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Chapter 288

Author: Only For You
Atlas' mistress was overjoyed, showering him with sweet words over the phone. "Thank you, baby! I'll dress up beautifully for when you come. Oh, I've bought several sets of sexy lingerie—come rip them off me soon!"

Atlas laughed happily. "Don't worry, baby. Once I handle these important matters, I'll keep you busy for days."

After hanging up, Atlas felt deeply satisfied. His empire was rising, with Northern District at its peak, and soon, he would devour both Natasha's West End and Dylan's South City. Then, he would rule Jayrodale's underworld as its sole king, crushing Marvin, the Wellers, and Rhodes beneath his feet.

Meanwhile, in Andrew's office at Jayrodale General Hospital, Francesca walked in to find Andrew in a sharp suit.

"Do you have a meeting or event?" she asked with a smile behind her hand, admiring his tall, elegant figure.

"Neither—just attending a gala," Andrew replied with a smile.

Francesca's eyebrows furrowed with concern. "Are you going to a gala? Do
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    Meanwhile in Scarlet Lounge, West End. Natasha had rented out the entire luxury resort for the event. When Andrew and Dylan arrived, they saw that the entrance was lined with high-end cars. Stunning women in designer dresses and sharp-looking men in tailored suits moved in and out of the venue, all exuding power and wealth. Dylan leaned closer and whispered, "Mr. Lloyd, you might not know this, but Natasha's not as conventional as she seems. "She's been keeping West End in check for years, but behind the scenes, she's got ties with several high-ranking officials and wealthy benefactors in Jayrodale. A lot of the men here might just be her… admirers." Andrew adjusted his crisp suit and replied casually, "It was obvious last night—Natasha knows how to use her charm to her advantage." Dylan smirked. "No doubt about it. Those legs of hers? God knows how many men she's brought to their knees with them, willing to do anything for her." Andrew smiled faintly. "Smart women always

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    Dylan said, "Atlas would never lower himself to be seen publicly with Yvonne, no matter how much fun she was behind closed doors." Andrew nodded. "Let's head inside and meet with Madam Vostokoff." Dylan was just about to agree when he suddenly stopped and let out a sharp, "Huh? Mr. Lloyd, check that out—another attention-seeking diva just showed up." Andrew followed Dylan's gaze and frowned. "She looks familiar." Dylan smirked. "That's Serena Halbert, the widow of the late Kane. She's got quite a reputation." Andrew's expression turned curious. "You seem to know quite a lot about these women." Dylan scratched his head awkwardly, blushing slightly. "Well, I wouldn't say I know them, but I've heard the gossip." He continued, leaning in conspiratorially. "Take Serena, for instance. She's nearly 20 years younger than Kane, making her about 32 now. She was at her prime, but Kane was already a frail, sickly old man. There's no way he could keep up with her." Lowering his voic

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    It was clear that Natasha did not want Finley touching her, but he basked in the attention, beaming as he said, "Madam, you've heard everyone's requests. Since they all want to see us dance, how can you refuse?" Natasha frowned slightly. Finley was annoying as a persistent pest, but she worried that refusing him outright in front of everyone might cause a scene. Just then, a female voice cut through the tension. "If Madam Vostokoff doesn't want to dance with Mr. Moore, shouldn't a true gentleman step back rather than put her in an awkward position?" "Who do you think you are to meddle in my affairs?" Finley turned with displeasure. Aspen smiled, looking sharp in her tailored suit. "Mr. Moore, you seem quite temperamental. I'm Aspen from the Bridgefields' Stevens family." Finley nodded thoughtfully and said, "Ah, Ms. Stevens. Don't tell me you're also vying to be Madam Vostokoff's dance partner?" "And why not?" Aspen lifted her chin proudly. "Who says Madam Vostokoff's partn

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    Logan shouted, his voice cracking, "Dr. Lake, get out of the way!" Mosby forced himself to stay conscious, pried his eyes open, and immediately saw death rushing at him. He screamed, "Mr. Keller Senior, please—spare me!" However, George had already charged in, eyes blood-red, and a brutal hand chop was aimed straight for Mosby's skull. If that blow landed, the so-called legend of Blumedale would die right here, with his head cracked open. Chantelle gritted her teeth and moved in without hesitation. Her long leg, clad in sleek, tailored slacks, swept out in a horizontal arc. George stumbled back two steps, let out a low, guttural growl, and immediately lunged at her instead. Logan shouted from the side, trying to talk his father down, yet it was useless. George had fully descended into a killing trance. "Dr. Lake, get clear!" Chantelle barked as she spun forward. Her pale, graceful hand landed squarely on George's shoulder, and with a sharp twist, she executed a perfect shoul

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    Logan instinctively stepped forward, panicked, ready to intervene. However, Andrew stopped him. "No rush. Mr. Keller Senior needs to burn off some of that energy first. That way, it'll be easier for me to treat him afterward." Logan's voice trembled. "Dr. Lloyd, my father is not going to get hurt, right?" Andrew smirked. "Relax. Mr. Keller Senior will be fine. If anyone's in danger, it's probably Dr. Lake." Mosby and George had already gone head-to-head in combat. However, George looked completely possessed, growling like a wild beast, clearly stripped of rationality. His physical strength was nothing short of monstrous. Every vase, table, and piece of furniture in the room that stood in his way was shattered to dust under his fists. He held nothing back. Chantelle's eyes widened. "That strength… Has Mr. Keller Senior reached martial king level?" Logan sighed, conflicted. "That was originally a tightly guarded secret of the Keller family. No outsiders were supposed to know.

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