Filed To Story: Watch Out! She's a Mastermind Heiress (Isabella Patton) Book PDF Free
How was this even possible? They had been poisoning her for years—there was no way anyone could have discovered it.
Savannah clenched her fists tightly, unease prickling at her thoughts.
For now, she decided to wait for Dottie’s speech first.
“Next, let’s hear the candidates speak in turn,” the host announced before stepping aside.
Laurence was the first to take the stage.
As the current king, he spoke with a deep, resonant voice.
His words carried a commanding presence, yet his tone remained approachable and gentle, earning nods of approval from Isabella.
Owen, in contrast, addressed the audience with a confident demeanor, but there was a glint of harshness in his eyes, a subtle warning of ambition.
Isabella could tell at a glance that if Owen ascended to the throne, his first move would undoubtedly be to wage war on neighboring nations.
At last, the moment everyone had been waiting for arrived — it was Dottie’s turn.
Some in the audience had already heard whispers of her miraculous recovery, but for those who hadn’t, their faces were filled with shock and anticipation.
All eyes were on Dottie as they wondered—if she had truly recovered, would it change everything?
Dottie, dressed in a striking deep blue suit paired with a crisp white shirt, strode confidently to the stage.
Her movements were poised and deliberate, radiating an unshakable aura of leadership.
The sheer force of her presence stirred something primal in the audience—an urge to bow, to submit to her authority.
Her sharp, luminous features glowed under the lights, and her voice rang clear and powerful.
Each word she spoke was deliberate, her gaze steady and wise, evoking a sense of trust and loyalty in everyone watching.
The election was broadcast across the nation, capturing the attention of millions.
As Dottie stood on stage, her presence commanded such power that many watching couldn’t remain still.
“Oh my God, it’s Dottie! Has she really recovered?”
“It looks like she has fully recovered. Dottie is our hope!”
“She seems born to be the queen.”
“A master once predicted her fate—a star destined for leadership and prosperity. If she becomes the queen, she’ll undoubtedly steer our nation’s economy toward rapid growth.”
“It feels like there’s hope again. Surely, everyone will choose Dottie!”
As Dottie’s resonant words filled the hall, Savannah’s face darkened, her fingertips digging so sharply into her palms that they nearly broke the skin.
Her mind swirled in chaos, utterly blank except for one overwhelming realization: Dottie had indeed recovered!
Even Savannah, despite her confidence, was forced to acknowledge the undeniable truth—Dottie radiated the aura of a true queen.
She glanced around and noticed the shift in the room.
Many of those present already seemed eager to cast their votes.
Just a year ago, the nation had pinned its hopes on Dottie, waiting for her to grow up and take her rightful place as queen.
But her tragic incident had changed everything, giving Savannah’s father a chance to vie for the throne.
“I look forward to witnessing our country’s rapid development and embracing a new era! I am confident that I can lead us all toward a brighter, better future.”
As Dottie’s speech concluded, the hall erupted into thunderous applause, far more enthusiastic than for the previous speakers.
Savannah gritted her teeth.
“Damn it!”
Her uncle and aunt-in-law had been far too cunning, concealing Dottie’s recovery for so long.
But so what if Dottie had recovered? The powerful business magnates in attendance would undoubtedly side with Owen.
They accounted for over 60% of the votes, which meant 60% would surely go to him!
Savannah took a slow, steady breath, allowing the tension to dissolve as a sense of calm spread through her chest.
With the speeches now finished, the mood shifted.
The air was thick with anticipation—it was time to vote.
Each seat had a small panel in front of it, designed to capture each person’s choice with a single press.
Isabella didn’t hesitate.
She clicked on Dottie’s name, her decision sure and clear.
Savannah selected her father’s name, then glanced around the room.
She could feel the nervous energy in the air.
Three minutes later, the voting ended.
The host walked to the center of the stage, his face a blend of professionalism and excitement.
“Thank you all for participating.
We’ve received a total of 590 votes.
Now, let’s see how the results stand.”
With a dramatic sweep of his hand, the giant screen behind him flickered to life, revealing the numbers for all to see:
Laurence Wilson: 0 votes.
Dottie Wilson: 350 votes.
Owen Wilson: 190 votes.
Abstentions: 50 votes.
The room gasped in unison, the shock rippling through the crowd like a sudden windstorm.
Dottie, who had stayed out of the spotlight for a full year, had come back strong, taking a commanding lead over Owen in the votes.
It didn’t take much to understand why Owen received zero votes—those who had been supporting him had consciously given their votes to Dottie.
Isabella’s eyes shone with a mix of relief and satisfaction.
The results matched what the people had been hoping for.
Just as the host was about to move on, a sharp voice cut through the tension.
“This can’t be right! Something’s wrong!” Savannah’s voice trembled with disbelief.
“I want to see the voting list!”
“Of course,” the host said, quickly moving to bring up the list.
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