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Chapter 296

Author: Only For You
Christina could not understand how Andrew had such an effect on these exceptional women.

First Lauren, then Francesca, and now someone even more remarkable—Natasha, the powerful widow who ruled West End.

Returning to the lounge, she said to Aspen, "Aspen, let's just head home."

Aspen shook her head. "Not yet, Christie. You need to learn to handle these situations, even if you don't like them."

"I don't want to breathe the same air as Andrew," Christina replied coldly.

"What's wrong? Does it bother you that this worthless gold-digger is suddenly so successful?" Aspen asked with a knowing smile.

Christina responded stiffly, "If he can climb the social ladder through women, that's his talent. It doesn't bother me."

Aspen said seriously. "No, Christie, you're wrong. He's not moving up his status—he simply doesn't know his place. Once powerful women like Madam Vostokoff get bored with this nobody, they'll kick him to the curb. I've seen it happen countless times."

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    Andrew shook his head, "I'm not sure. Although these photos alone might anger Atlas, given his calculated nature, he'll likely choose to stay calm." "True," Natasha agreed. "Atlas is too shrewd. When he sees these photos, his first instinct will be to control his anger toward Finley. We need to push further, make Atlas so furious he'll turn against Finley completely." Dylan shrugged. "Going further means catching them in the act. But where are we going to get that kind of evidence?" "Where are Finley and Yvonne now?" Andrew asked. "They went to the lounge after the gala, but we don't have cameras there," Dylan replied. Natasha sighed, "We obviously can't install surveillance in the lounges—that would offend too many important people." Just then, Antonio came in with news. "Madam, Mr. Garner, Mr. Lloyd—Yvonne has already left the estate." "So this operation wasn't perfect," Natasha said, rubbing her temples. "Without concrete evidence between Yvonne and Finley, we don't ha

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    Andrew set down the glasses and nodded to them both. "Both glasses contain traces of the drug. Since Finley and Yvonne used this lounge, it's safe to assume they both consumed it." "So, Finley drugged Yvonne," Natasha blurted out. "Which means he wanted to…" "He wanted to sleep with her," Dylan cut in eagerly. "Everything before was just an act. He secretly drugged Yvonne, and they might be in the middle of it right now!" Natasha's face lit up with excitement. "That's got to be it! That sly bastard Finley really knows how to play dirty." "Quick, we need to find out where Finley and Yvonne went," Andrew urged. "The drug acts fast. Based on when they left, it should be taking effect right about now." Natasha smirked coldly. "Leave it to my people to handle this. We'll track them down and catch them in the act." She turned to Andrew with an amused smile. "Impressive. Even in this mess, you still managed to uncover a lead, darling." Without Andrew's sharp observation and noti

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    "I can't believe a powerful woman like Madam Vostokoff would lose her head over a worthless man. How disappointing," Aspen muttered, finally suppressing her humiliation and anger. "Come on, Christie. If she doesn't recognize our value, we'll go to Mr. Giordano in the Northern District," she declared. "Aspen, there are many ways to expand our family's business into Jayrodale," Christina said worriedly. "I don't think you need to deal with underground figures like them. Their methods are often questionable, and I'm concerned—" Aspen interrupted with a dismissive laugh, "I know what you're worried about, Christie. You're afraid I'm too naïve and might get played by them, right? Don't underestimate me. Just watch—soon, the two of us will make such a name for ourselves in Jayrodale that no one will dare look down on us." Christina frowned slightly, her instincts telling her that her cousin from the main family was being too hasty. Nonetheless, given Aspen's headstrong nature, which

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    Members of West End were already negotiating with the hotel's security staff at the entrance. However, the hotel's security guards were clearly unfazed by West End's reputation and blocked the entrance without hesitation. Dylan's face darkened, and he stepped forward, ready to force their way in. Andrew quickly stopped him, saying, "Don't make a scene!" Dylan argued, "Mr. Lloyd, if we don't get in now, Finley might be slipping away soon!" Andrew shook his head. "Relax, the effects of cantharides last at least half a day." Natasha chimed in, "This hotel belongs to the Rhodes family, and West End has a decent relationship with them. Let me try." She approached the entrance with a cold expression. "Move aside. I'm Natasha Vostokoff from West End." The guards exchanged uneasy glances, clearly intimidated by her commanding presence. One of them finally mustered the courage to say, "Madam Vostokoff, the hotel has been reserved for the night. Mr. Rhodes has ordered that no on

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    "Since you're not leaving, suit yourself," Michael said with a shrug. He had his men bring over a couch and plopped down at the entrance like a stubborn bouncer. "But today, our hotel is closed to the public, so we might as well get comfortable waiting here." "You idiot," Natasha snapped, her temper flaring. "Looks like I'll need to teach you a lesson since you think I'm bluffing." However, Andrew merely chuckled. "Since Mr. Rhodes seems to enjoy playing concierge so much, let's not disturb his new career choice." Michael's face twitched as he suppressed his rage while Andrew kept taunting him with concierge jokes, making the humiliation almost unbearable. He had no choice though—Finley was currently having a steamy affair with Atlas' mistress inside. Michael had to guard the hotel well because the consequences would be devastating if this got exposed. However, if he could satisfy Finley, Michael would finally have an involvement with the Hidden Dragons organization. Andre

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    Aspen stood up gracefully and said, "Well then, Christie and I will take our leave. And I'd like to offer my early congratulations to you on your inevitable dominance of Jayrodale's underworld—this will create an even better foundation for our partnership." Atlas was thoroughly pleased with himself. He boasted, "Ms. Stevens, you clearly have excellent foresight, knowing that I'll soon control all of Jayrodale's underworld. Before long, you'll witness the golden age of our Northern District." Just then, one of Atlas's top lieutenants entered with a troubled expression and signaled urgently to speak with him. Atlas maintained his composure and said smoothly, "In that case, ladies, please excuse me from seeing you out." "Farewell, Mr. Giordano," Aspen replied with a polite smile. After leaving the Northern District, Christina turned to Aspen. "Aspen, investing 150 million dollars just like that makes me nervous." Aspen exuded complete confidence as if everything was already perf

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    Atlas' man quickly said, "Mr. Giordano, please calm down. These photos are from an unknown source and might not tell the whole story, and we should investigate first. Besides, Mr. Moore is our ally, and if we let this scandal tear us apart, wouldn't that play right into our enemies' hands?" Atlas snapped out of his rage and nodded repeatedly. "You're right! I almost lost my head there." His expression darkened as he realized these photos were likely Natasha's or Dylan's handiwork, meant to drive a wedge between him and Finley. "Dylan, Natasha, you're both quite devious," he muttered through gritted teeth. "But unfortunately for you, I'm not so easily manipulated." He silently vowed to deal with them both as soon as possible. Just then, another of Atlas's trusted men burst in, looking even more distressed than the man before. Atlas frowned. "What now? Why does everyone look like they're at a funeral?" The man's face was grim as he reported, "Mr. Giordano, I just received w

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    After his furious outburst, Atlas continued in an ice-cold voice, "Besides, even if this is Dylan and Natasha's trap, what do I have to fear? Do you think they'd dare to make a move against me on Rhodes family territory?" His men had to admit he had a point. Even if it was a trap, who would dare touch Atlas when he brought all his Northern District enforcers? Still, what truly terrified them was the possibility that Finley really was fooling around with Atlas' woman. In their world, there were certain unwritten rules, and messing with another man's woman was asking for a brutal death. … Ten minutes later, over a dozen SUVs screeched to a halt in front of the Rhodes family hotel. Atlas led the charge with dozens of his Northern District muscle trailing behind him, storming toward the hotel entrance. Michael was still lounging at the entrance with his legs crossed. He muttered, "Mr. Moore, I'm sticking my neck out for you here. You've got some nerve going after Mr. Giordano's

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    Andrew waved a hand dismissively. "I don't have time to explain everything to you, and even if I did, you wouldn't understand it anyway. You just need to know this—if you want to save your father, then do exactly what I tell you to." Logan looked uncertain and shot a quick glance at Chantelle as if to ask, "Who is this guy you brought along, and what's with the ego?" Chantelle's face darkened. "Mr. Keller, this man is Andrew Lloyd—he came at Mr. McCormick's recommendation. But honestly, you don't have to take him seriously. Just carry on with your own plans—ignore him." However, Logan shook his head and turned toward Andrew. "Dr. Lloyd, go ahead. Tell me what you need. As long as it'll help my father, I'll make it happen." His respectful tone stunned Chantelle. She wondered if Logan was out of his mind for believing Andrew just like that. Andrew smiled. "My request is actually pretty simple. If I'm going to treat your father, I expect to be compensated. So, I want access to al

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    Chantelle could not lash out, so she gritted her teeth and quickly followed behind. Inwardly, she made a mental note to report this arrogant clown to Derek later. To her, Andrew was reckless, so full of hot air, and completely unworthy of trust—nothing but a showboating jester. … Inside the main hall of the Keller residence, the place was packed with people coming and going. A group of specialists and renowned doctors stood gathered, their brows furrowed as they exchanged anxious whispers. One commented, "Mr. Keller Senior's condition is strange—truly bizarre!" "Exactly. His entire face is paralyzed. Even his tongue won't move. He can't swallow even a spoonful of medicine!" Another chimed in, "And the worst part? No one can get within three feet of him. The second anyone tries, they get attacked—some left with cracked skulls, others… well, some didn't make it." "Jeez! That serious? Who would dare try to treat him now? No matter how much the Keller family is offering, it's no

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    Chantelle was behind the wheel while Andrew rode along in the passenger seat as they headed out to treat Derek's old friend, George Keller. The atmosphere inside the car was tense, with Chantelle's resting expression as frosty and detached as ever, her face practically carved from ice. Andrew was not the kind of guy to throw warmth at a wall of cold, so he simply stayed quiet, staring out the window at the passing streets. After holding back for a while, Chantelle finally could not resist and let out a mocking laugh. "Mr. Lloyd, what a clever move—create your own mess, then try to get Mr. McCormick to step in and clean it up for you. Don't you think you're playing with fire?" Andrew smiled. "Playing with fire? Nah, I don't see it that way. At this point, I'm pretty much one of Mr. McCormick's trusted men. So if the little guy's getting targeted, doesn't it make perfect sense for the boss to step in and fix it?" Chantelle was momentarily stunned before letting out a scoff. "An

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