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,
Lauren was angry at how arrogantly Jerry had been acting. She could not help but think these martial arts experts were all challenging to deal with, whether it was Tracia or Jerry. Andrew suddenly spoke up. "I know what he's so smug about, but unfortunately, it won't help him at all!" "Please tell me where to find the clues about the stolen herbs!" Lauren exclaimed excitedly. Andrew explained, "He must be thinking about following the trucks' tire tracks." Lauren nodded thoughtfully, "That's actually not a bad idea. There are plenty of dirt roads in the countryside, and our trucks would definitely leave tracks." Andrew shook his head and replied, "Unless the thieves are complete idiots, they wouldn't leave such obvious tracks for us to follow. Besides, Ms. Rhodes, have you considered what happens when the trucks hit concrete or asphalt roads?" "I guess that would make the tracks useless…" Lauren deflated. "Let's go," Andrew said with a smile. "Where to?" Lauren asked, co
Lauren watched this scene unfold with a dreamy look in her eyes. She admired his kindness and compassion, secretly wishing she could marry him right then and there. Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside as Jerry rushed in with his men. When he spotted Andrew and Lauren, he briefly showed panic before quickly composing himself. He cleared his throat and said, "Ms. Rhodes, I'm impressed you found the trucks before I did. Your brilliant mind truly proves why you're the most exceptional member of the younger Rhodes generation!" Jerry laughed nervously, showering her with compliments while conveniently forgetting his earlier boastful promises about finding the trucks himself. Lauren smiled graciously. "Thank you for your efforts too, Jerry. The important thing is that we recovered the herbs." "Indeed… But did you manage to catch the criminals who stole it?" Jerry asked, trying to sound casual. Lauren shook her head. "The place was empty when we arrived, so we couldn't identify w
Andrew shrugged casually. "Those are your words, not mine." This finally pushed Jerry over the edge as he angrily shouted, "You fool! Stop trying to sow discord! I've served the Rhodes family faithfully for over 20 years. Do you think your petty words can discredit my loyalty?" In his fury, Jerry turned to Lauren and said respectfully, "Ms Rhodes, this pretty boy is insulting me. I demand justice." "Jerry, he just tends to be very direct with his words," Lauren stated diplomatically. "I know your loyalty to the Rhodes family, so on his behalf, I apologize." Jerry let out a cold snort and stormed off with his men, but not before shooting Andrew a murderous glare. Andrew, however, maintained his smile, completely unfazed. Once Jerry was gone, Lauren's expression turned ice-cold. "Do you think Jerry was telling the truth?" "I'd rather believe pigs could fly than trust him," Andrew replied without hesitation. Lauren burst into laughter. "You can be quite funny sometimes." A
Bane silently crouched down and examined Tracia's body. After a moment, he stood up with a grim expression and said, "She must've encountered a skilled martial artist." "What kind of master could kill a Rhodes family security chief?" Michael demanded angrily. Bane remained silent for a moment, his face unusually grave. "At the very least, someone on the level of a junior grandmaster—or maybe even a full grandmaster." He continued, "The ability to kill Tracia with a single punch is leagues beyond those amateurs who had just learned the basics." "Come on, Bane, you can't be serious," Michael said in horror. "How could there be a grandmaster hiding in this place?" To Michael, a grandmaster was practically a living legend—someone even the Rhodes family would show respect. In his mind, those figures were untouchable, being able to kill others without breaking a sweat. Bane snapped, "I never joke about such a matter. She died at the hands of at least a junior grandmaster." "Ba
Michael nodded nervously. "Thank goodness we weren't there when Tracia died. Running into that grandmaster would've been bad news. Still, it's unfortunate Lauren escaped, but at least we have the herbs. When she returns to Rhodes Corporation empty-handed, she'll have to answer for this failure!" At this thought, a hint of a smile returned to Michael's gloomy face. However, Bane suddenly tensed and shouted, "Who's there? Show yourself, or you'll regret it!" Michael spun around in terror, stuttering, "B-Bane, you don't think it's that grandmaster coming for us?" A broad-shouldered man emerged from the shadows, and Michael immediately relaxed. "Oh, it's just you, Jerry. You scared me half to death!" Jerry scoffed. "Mr. Rhodes, if you want to take over Rhodes Corporation, you need to show more backbone. Being spooked by every little noise makes you look like a coward." Michael laughed. "Relax, Jerry, it's just us three here. Even if I'm scared out of my wits, no one else will kno
"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