The demolition and reconstruction of the Oakridge Club would take some time. Andre handed all the responsibilities to Lauren, leaving him free to enjoy a rare moment of leisure. By the time he returned to Moonlit Sanctuary, evening had fallen. Under the warm glow of the fading sunset, Andrew removed his shirt and began practicing his punches in the courtyard. An elderly man sat at a stone table under an old tree, sipping tea with a smile. "Prince Andrew, your technique has become more fluid and natural. I've only seen such mastery in His Majesty himself!" Andrew continued his practice without turning. "Marvin, when did you get here?" Marvin chuckled. "I just arrived a short while ago. I made myself some tea since you weren't around. I must say, everything here is of the finest quality!" Andrew faced the setting sun as his movements became more controlled yet powerful. "Marvin, I'm no longer a prince, so drop that title. Here in Jayrodale, we should just live our own lives qui
Among the items Andrew needed to regain his strength and break the seals were the Seventh-Heaven Quince from Mark and the Morlic Root from Cedric. "The Radiant Group is holding an auction soon, and this Celestial Nymphaea is one of the featured items," Marvin explained. He continued, "With my connections as the wealthiest man in Jayrodale, I could have purchased the Celestial Nymphaea directly, but apparently, someone else has already shown interest in it. "The Radiant Group is in a difficult position and doesn't dare to sell it privately, which is why I came to you." Andrew nodded thoughtfully. "Got it. Give me the time and location of the auction, and I'll handle it personally." Marvin replied, "It's the day after tomorrow at 8 pm sharp in Radiant Group's underground hall." In Jayrodale, Radiant Group was a heavyweight in the jewelry, antiques, and luxury goods industry. For them to offer something as rare as the Celestial Nymphaea did not surprise Andrew. After all, he
Leroy shrugged dismissively and said, "Christie, how much is the Stevens family's reputation really worth?" "You won't buy me a luxury car, and when I try to get one from someone who can afford it, you say I'm embarrassing you—I don't understand what you want." Christina's chest heaved with anger. Her pride could not bear watching her brother behave like a bootlicker in front of Andrew. Her voice trembled with anger and hurt as she growled, "You must be really enjoying this, aren't you, Andrew? Watching Leroy debase himself and making our family look like fools." "So you're saying it's wrong for me to drive a luxury car?" Andrew asked calmly. "Aren't you just showing off to provoke Leroy and get under my skin?" Christina accused. Andrew chuckled. "Christina, you're overestimating your importance and underestimating me at the same time. It's just a car— what's there to show off about?" Irene smirked. "Who knows what tricks you're trying to pull now? But it doesn't matter b
Christina was clearly affected by Andrew's words, but she said nothing. Over the past few days, she had felt increasingly uneasy as Harvey's true nature began to emerge. After all, it was vastly different from the gentleman and promising young man she thought she knew. Even so, her pride would not allow her to admit to Andrew that she had misjudged someone so completely. Finally, the night of the auction arrived. By 8 p.m., luxury cars filled the parking lot of the Radiant Group building as Jayrodale's elite gathered for the event. Among them were Michael and Harvey, both dressed in impeccable suits and projecting an air of elegance, with stunning women in their arms. "Harvey, long time no see! You look like you're living the high life—definitely more comfortable than I am!" Michael spoke first, casually glancing at Christina, who was standing next to Harvey. He had long admired Jayrodale's "Ice Queen CEO" himself, and though she was truly flawless in every way, he could on
Michael smirked, fanning the flames. "Mr. Moore, you're asking for trouble now. Everyone in Jayrodale knows that Christina is Harvey's true love." Finley opened his fan with a proud look. "They aren't married yet, so I still have a shot!" His two attendants glanced at Christina and smirked. "Pretty lady, catching Mr. Moore's eye is the luck of a lifetime. Be his, and you'll live a life of luxury and power—everything you desire will be within reach," one of them said. Christina remained silent, her face cold as ice. "Mr. Moore, I respect you as a guest from Hidden Dragons, so I'm showing restraint," Harvey said through gritted teeth. "But if you continue to be so disrespectful, I might have to teach you a lesson." Finley sneered. "Harvey, the Weller family has fallen so low they're selling off assets. Don't you think it's a bit ridiculous to act tough with me? Besides, why are you making such a fuss? I'm not interested in you—it's Ms. Stevens who's caught my eye." Finley'
Harvey felt the sting of humiliation but could only swallow his anger in silence. He was about to take over the Weller family, and he could not afford to make any mistakes now. Although Finley was a nuisance, Harvey knew that the Hidden Dragons had too much power for the Weller family to risk angering them. Michael stepped forward, playing peacemaker with fake sincerity. "Gentlemen, we're all respectable people here, and the auction is about to begin. Why don't we head inside?" "Fine, let's attend the auction first," Finley replied haughtily. "But my love for Ms. Stevens is as clear as day, and I won't rest until she's mine. Mr. Weller, you'd better do the right thing and step aside!" His arrogant words were another blatant insult. The onlookers silently noted that since Finley came from the martial arts clans of Gabo Creek, no one in Jayrodale would dare challenge his authority tonight. Just then, a Mercedes G-Wagon pulled up forcefully in front of the Radiant Group building
Lauren and Francesca arrived just in time to intervene. Lauren warned, "Mr. Moore, this is Radiant Group's territory. Please think carefully before starting any trouble." "Who cares whose property this is?" Finley roared. "My granduncle is the leader of Hidden Dragons—no one dares to disrespect me!" Andrew felt a headache coming on at these words. These entitled martial arts heirs always seemed to throw around their family connections. Even though he had only encountered Finley twice, the idiot had used the same line over and over again—it was almost laughable. The crowd backed away from Finley's outburst. Though Andrew's appearance had knocked Finley down a peg and given them some satisfaction, no one could deny that Hidden Dragons was still a formidable organization. "Christie, let's go," Harvey urged, pulling at Christina's arm. "Finley's lost it, and Andrew is done for." Christina yanked her arm away coldly. She asked, "So you're scared, Harvey? Andrew might be reck
"Out of respect for me," Silas said calmly, "how about we let this one go?" Finley scoffed, resting his sword over his shoulder with an arrogant smirk. "Let this one go? Sorry, Mr. Vaughn, even if you're personally here to plead, this little punk will bleed out on the spot tonight." The onlookers tensed, shocked that Finley would not even show respect to the auction host. Then again, the Hidden Dragons' reputation was formidable enough to back Finley's audacity. Most spectators silently fretted. If even Silas could not control Finley, Andrew might be in grave danger. However, Silas looked at Finley as if he were an idiot. He barked, "You fool, when I said to let this slide, did you think I was begging you?" The crowd was stunned by Silas' words. Finley froze and darkly replied, "Silas, I don't owe you any respect just because you're Radiant Group's CEO. You'd better back off." Silas raised a finger, nearly poking Finley in the face. "You little brat, you're nothing more t
Natasha trembled but stood her ground. "Andrew, I know I'm no match for you, but I'm not someone to be trifled with either. You at least owe me some compensation." "What do you want?" Andrew asked with an amused smile. "I'm not greedy—just give me some of that medicine," Natasha said, her eyes lighting up as she held out her hand. Andrew chuckled and tossed her a small vial. "You say you're not greedy, yet you ask for something money can't buy." Natasha's face lit up with delight as she examined the vial's contents. "Well, at least you have some conscience," she said, carefully tucking it away. Her eyes roamed over Andrew's form as her cheeks flushed. "I have one last request. If you agree, then I'll be yours forever." "Let's hear it," Andrew said with a laugh, "but I'm warning you—nothing excessive!" Natasha stepped closer until she was nearly pressed against him and whispered, "Andrew, I want to be your woman. I've never submitted to many men, but you're different. Take
"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