"Just buy me a Bugatti, or give me your Porsche Panamera, and I'll help you get back together with Christina. What do you say?" Leroy pressed on eagerly. Before Andrew could respond, Harvey exploded in rage. "Leroy, have you no shame? How dare you try to sell out Christie for your own gain? Did you even consider my feelings?" Leroy retorted, "Harvey, you're drowning in debt, and you're nothing but a broke loser. Why should I care about your feelings when you're worth nothing? Since you're too pathetic to come up with the money, Christina obviously can't be with you." Harvey had never in his life had he faced such humiliation, and he was fuming. "Leroy, one more word out of you, and you can get the hell out of here," Christina snapped coldly. "I don't need any of you men deciding my life for me. Do you think I can't survive without you?" Leroy's words had struck deep at Christina's pride. They made it sound like she could not survive without either Harvey or Andrew, but
"Kane, the head of the Weller family, has been thinking about stepping down due to his poor health," Francesca said with disdain. "But judging by Harvey's stupidity and self-destructive behavior, if the Weller family ends up in his hands, it will be a complete disaster!" Andrew shook his head. "That's the Weller family's business, not mine. I just hope Harvey doesn't do anything too foolish." "If he actually gets control of the Weller family, someone as petty as him will definitely come after you," Francesca remarked with a frown. Andrew replied calmly, "Then I'll make sure both he and the Weller family meet their end sooner rather than later." "Harvey has no idea what he's getting into by targeting someone like you—a silent powerhouse!" Francesca giggled. "I'm getting chills just thinking about it." "I'm no powerhouse," Andrew responded. "I just believe in live and let live. Don't mess with me, and I won't mess with you." Suddenly, Francesca remembered something and exclai
"Make sure our security stays close to the convoy at all times," Lauren instructed Eunice. "We can't afford any problems." Eunice protested, "But Miss, are we really going to leave behind a third of our herbs? If we go back with this amount, we'll have to shut down several pharmaceutical plants. The losses will be substantial." "I'll cover the losses personally," Lauren replied with a cold smile. "If Michael wants to play games, I'll play along until the end." Eunice was worried but stayed silent, turning to relay the orders to the convoy. After that, Lauren stepped out of the car and approached Tracia Martin, a scar-faced woman standing nearby. "Tracia, the convoy is heading out. Please have your team keep watch over them during the journey." Despite her unremarkable appearance and small frame, Tracia's eyes held a sharp gleam that revealed her expertise as a martial arts master. "I apologize, Miss, but my team and I have only one mission—to protect you. Anything else is b
Lauren bounced in the back seat, nearly getting sick from the rough ride. She exclaimed, "Tracia, what are you doing? We need to go back and help!" "Going back would be suicide," Tracia replied grimly, keeping her foot on the gas. "As for those useless people back there, their deaths mean nothing—they're worthless anyway!" "Tracia, do you even hear yourself?" Lauren shouted angrily. "As your employer, I order you to take me back right now. For this noncompliance, I'll put in a request to the family to terminate your contract as soon as we return!" Tracia let out a cold laugh, her scarred face looking more sinister than ever. "You're just a little girl. Who do you think you are, trying to order me around?" "What are you planning?" Lauren's expression finally changed as realization dawned. "What am I planning? Why, delivering you to my new employer, of course!" Tracia cackled. "I'm sorry, Ms. Rhodes, but while your family pays well, those who want you dead pay better. Don't tak
"What are you thinking about?" Tracia suddenly asked. "About someone… a man," Lauren replied softly. "Ms. Rhodes, you're such a stunning beauty. I'm curious who could be on your mind," Tracia said with interest. "His name is Andrew Lloyd," Lauren answered honestly. "He's an incredibly skilled doctor and quite handsome too. Before I met him, I never knew loving someone could be so painful—sometimes the loneliness makes me want to cry." "Shut up! I don't want to hear this nonsense," Tracia snapped. Lauren studied Tracia's scarred face with sudden understanding. "You've never been in love, have you, Tracia? Or rather, no man has ever loved you?" Tracia's expression turned ugly, as if Lauren had struck a nerve. "Men are all worthless idiots. Their so-called love makes me sick. Since you're about to die anyway, I don't mind sharing this with you. When I was young, I met several men. But they all betrayed me, sweet-talking liars who got what they deserved when I cut their throats
Andrew said earnestly, "Of course I'd come when you're in danger. I'd walk through fire for you." Lauren suddenly felt overwhelmed with emotion and burst into tears. "Andrew, you're such a jerk! Turn around—I won't let you see me cry. And just so you know, I'm not crying because of you!" Andrew was uncharacteristically flustered, having never seen this softer, more emotional side of Lauren before. "I hate seeing people being all lovey-dovey in front of me. Since you dared to come, I'll kill you first and let this girl die of heartbreak!" Tracia spat before laughing maniacally. "Perfect! I was planning to kill you anyway," Andrew replied, his eyes turning ice-cold. Then, Tracia lunged forward, curling her hands as she clawed at Andrew with lightning speed. The air whistled with the ferocity of her attacks, her movements almost too fast to follow. "Be careful, Andrew! She's a hidden force master," Lauren warned anxiously, wiping away her tears. Andrew remained calm. To ordi
Andrew shook his head. "There's no need for such formalities between us, Ms. Rhodes." Lauren felt warmth in her heart at his words but still huffed, "Well, at least you have some conscience. I thought you'd forgotten all about me now that you're rekindling things with Ms. Stevens!" Andrew gave a wry smile, wisely choosing not to explain. After all, some things would only get worse with explanation. Later, they made their way out of the forest and found the Rhodes family security team. "Miss, thank goodness you're safe!" they exclaimed upon seeing Lauren. "What happened to those thugs who ambushed us?" Lauren asked. "Mr. Keoghan arrived and drove them all away," Eunice replied angrily. "He even killed a few of them." "Jerry came? Where is he?" Lauren asked excitedly. Just then, a muscular middle-aged man strode toward them with purposeful steps. "Miss, where's Tracia? I don't see her," he asked. "Tracia is dead," Lauren replied coldly. Jerry Keoghan, the Rhodes family'
Only three of the Rhodes Corporation's ten trucks were recovered, while the other seven, fully loaded with medical supplies, had vanished without a trace. Jerry pointed at the injured security guards and shouted, "You're a bunch of good-for-nothings! The Rhodes family would've been better off keeping a pack of dogs than paying you!" "Come on, we all did our best," one guard protested, clutching his bleeding arm. "They caught us by surprise, and they had too many skilled fighters. We were overwhelmed." Jerry's eyes narrowed as he strode over and slapped the guard hard across the face. "Who do you think you are to talk back to me? Those supplies better be found, or I'll make sure you pay for your incompetence!" The guard swallowed his anger, and the others shot Jerry resentful looks. Within the Rhodes family, Jerry was the most despised figure. As the Rhodes family's elite fighter, he never treated them like human beings, regularly beating and berating them at will. "Jerry,
"Has West End lost all its pride?" Conan demanded. Natasha waved her hand dismissively and gritted her teeth. "Everyone out—I can't blame anyone when I'm simply outmatched. I underestimated him, and even if you all attacked together, you'd just be throwing your lives away." Conan and the other two men reluctantly withdrew, but this time, he remained stationed right outside the door. He wanted to be ready to rush in if Natasha needed help, though he knew they stood no chance against someone who could defeat her. "I admit now that you surpass me in both combat skills and intelligence," Natasha said blankly. "You even have mysterious connections with Marvin and Mark. I can't beat you, Andrew, so do what you will with me." For the first time, Natasha felt utterly defeated. She had never underestimated Andrew, but she had clearly misjudged him completely. She had admired him and wanted him to work for West End, believing her status, charm, and fighting prowess would be enough to t
Natasha's bedroom was in complete disarray. She lay on the floor, drenched in sweat with disheveled hair and blood at the corner of her mouth, her face ghostly pale. Her half-open eyes glared at Andrew with intense hatred, while he sat casually on the couch, sipping his tea as if nothing had happened. Unlike Natasha's battered state, not a single thread on Andrew's clothing was out of place. "Wait, so you two weren't… you were actually fighting?" the bearded enforcer asked in disbelief. Another West End thug added in shock, "How is it possible that Madam is injured?" To them, Natasha had always been an invincible fighter, yet now she lay helpless on the floor, thoroughly defeated by Andrew. Conan shot an angry glare at the bearded enforcer and his companion. "Weren't you just saying how much fun she was having? Stop standing there like idiots and help her up!" The two men rushed forward to assist Natasha, but she impatiently pushed them away. "Get out! All of you get out!
Andrew's fingers struck with precision, targeting pressure points that sent waves of intense pain through Natasha's body. "Darling, no! Please, stop! I was wrong—I'm sorry! I can't take it anymore. It hurts so much!" "Ahhh! Stop it, please stop! Don't do this anymore!" Natasha cried out, her voice switching between desperate wails and hysterical laughter as the unbearable pain pushed her to the brink. The excruciating pain caused Natasha to writhe on the floor. She crashed into the couch and coffee table, making loud thudding noises that echoed through the room. … In the hallway outside, several heads peeked around the corner, intently watching Natasha's door. Conan led the group, his weathered face twisted with concern as he whispered, "Something doesn't sound right about this." One of the West End enforcers chuckled. "Come on, can't you tell? Madam is just having a good time!" Another man with a scruffy beard joined in with a knowing chuckle. "Exactly! Madam Vostoko
Andrew remained seated on the couch, his expression unchanged, as he raised his leg to intercept Natasha's attack. "You won't even stand up? Fine! If you're going to disrespect me like this, I'll have to teach you a lesson!" Natasha's chest heaved with anger. Her combat abilities surpassed Dylan's, and she was just a hair's breadth away from matching Atlas. Yet, this arrogant young man would not even bother to get up from his seat to face her attack, which felt like a direct insult to her pride. She transformed her claw-like strikes into palm strikes, alternating blows aimed at Andrew's chest. Without even looking, the latter countered with two palm strikes of his own, and their hands collided with two dull thuds. Natasha felt an overwhelming force transmitted through Andrew's hands, causing her to stumble backward. Meanwhile, Andrew remained as steady as a mountain on the couch, even taking a moment to pick up his teacup for a casual sip. He commented, "I'm surprised that a
With frustration written across her face, Natasha gritted her teeth. She had decided it was better not to show off her strategies in front of Andrew anymore, wanting to avoid further embarrassment. Andrew ignored her visible discomfort and said calmly, "I want you to understand that anything gained through deception and betrayal will eventually become too hot to handle and turn to dust. That's the lesson history has taught us time and time again." Natasha scoffed. "Fine, I can't argue with you. But you have to admit that two-thirds or more of Jayrodale's underworld is now under my control. Either you and Dylan submit to my authority, or you'll face death!" Andrew shook his head and replied, "You're seeing things through rose-colored glasses. While Dylan might not be able to handle you, I can take you down with a single move. That's another lesson I want to teach you today—that in the face of absolute power, no amount of schemes or clever tricks will work." Natasha paused, then
After her initial shock, Natasha's face flushed with embarrassment and anger, refusing to back down as she questioned him. "Alright, you call yourself a master physician. Then let me ask you this—why did I still get injured in my fight with Atlas after taking the Blood Surge Pill? And now you're accusing me of faking it?" Andrew's lips curled into a mocking smile as he replied, "Is that so hard to figure out? The moment you got back, you took a high-quality healing pill. Judging by your complexion, it must've been a top-tier Vitality Pill. These pills can quickly replenish energy and restore blood, bringing you back from weakness in no time." "Well, am I wrong?" Andrew's tone was dripping with sarcasm as he stared at Natasha. Natasha fell silent for a long moment before clapping her hands, a rosy blush spreading across her face—there was not a hint of weakness left in her demeanor. "No wonder Dylan swears unwavering loyalty to you. Even I have to admit defeat before you, darlin
"At this point, West End can't even send out a proper representative," Andrew stated emotionlessly. "Since you're treating me like I don't exist, I'll kill you first, then have a chat with Natasha." "Mr. Lloyd, please don't go too far!" a voice suddenly thundered from behind. "Conan, done watching the show from your hiding spot?" Andrew smirked as he released his grip and kicked the tattooed giant toward Conan. Conan's face twitched. He knew the tattooed giant was one of Natasha's most fearless fighters, young and skilled in hand-to-hand combat, yet Andrew had broken him so effortlessly. "Please follow me, Mr. Lloyd. Madam Vostokoff will see you now," Conan said coldly. Andrew sneered. "Oh, now she's willing to meet after this show of force?" "Mr. Lloyd, West End has already absorbed Atlas's territory," Conan stated angrily. "If you were smart, you wouldn't have come here." "So, if I hadn't shown up, Natasha would just take everything herself?" Andrew's face remained expr
Andrew's patience had run out as he spoke in a cold tone. "One last time—tell Natasha to come out and talk now." The tattooed giant mocked, "Or what? What can you do? Andrew, you might have some history with West End, but if you think that gives you the right to make demands, you're in the wrong place." As he moved to push Andrew away again, the other guards snickered. With Atlas' fall, Natasha had become Jayrodale's most powerful underground leader, and they could not believe this man's audacity in challenging West End. Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed through the air—the sound of a wrist being broken. The tattooed giant let out an agonizing scream. "My hand! You broke my hand! Get him! Attack!" The fifty-over guards stood shocked for a moment before charging forward with angry shouts. Andrew's face turned cold as his leg swept out. Screams filled the air as the first wave of guards went flying, their faces meeting Andrew's foot. The tattooed giant, his wrist still in Andrew
Aspen had invested ten million dollars in Atlas's operation, and if it were all gone, there would be serious consequences. They immediately got into the car with Irene and Leroy, heading toward Jayrodale's Northern District. … Meanwhile, Andrew's G-Wagon drifted to a smooth stop in front of the West End headquarters. Unlike usual, the building was surrounded by guards in black suits, dark ties, and sunglasses, creating an intimidating atmosphere. One of Natasha's top enforcers blocked Andrew's path. "Sorry, Mr. Lloyd, but you can't enter right now!" "I'm here to see Madam Vostokoff. Is there a problem?" Andrew asked with a smile as he sized up the man. The enforcer was a muscular giant with a crew cut and tattoos covering his neck, chest, and arms. His bulging muscles and fists the size of melons marked him as someone not to be messed with. "Mr. Lloyd, please understand that Madam Vostokoff isn't available right now," the man chuckled, pushing Andrew back. "You're an honore