It was all part of Quinton's plan to make it easier to control his subordinates once he inherited the Wrights. Moreover, the fatter Elon was, the narrower his thinking seemed to get. Still, despite looking down on him, Quinton was not about to waste a perfect pawn. So, in the middle of the night, he made the call. As he expected, Elon had not gone to bed either. After all, with Andrew still walking around free, how could they possibly sleep? "Elon, I've got Andrew's location. He's staying at the Crown Hotel," Quinton said the moment the line connected. Elon's voice on the other end sounded totally disinterested. "Got it." Quinton frowned. "What's up with you, Elon? If you know where Andrew is, then get your people from the Goldings over there and take him out! Or what, is your family's kill order just for show? Move your damn men already!" He could not stand how lifeless Elon sounded, so he kept pressing him. However, Elon replied flatly, "Quinton, I'm not in the mood to
Late at night at the Golding family estate, the massive mansion blazed with lights from top to bottom. Strangely, though, the entire place was dead silent, not a single person in sight. Only the grand hall was occupied—several figures stood beneath the towering chandeliers. At the center sat Richard, head of the Golding family, high on the main seat with an icy expression carved into his face. The butler stepped forward and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Sir, there's an update on the bounty." Richard's eyes flickered. He growled, "Well? Where's Andrew's head?" The butler's face twisted slightly. "We didn't recover Andrew's head, sir… but three members of the assassin group were found dead at the villa. We believe it was Andrew's residence here, but by the time our men arrived, the place had already been cleaned out." The flicker of satisfaction in Richard's eyes disappeared, replaced with pure disgust. He hissed, "How useless." Knowing his place, the butler backed away q
At that moment, Kenny would much rather die than suffer the humiliation. He had fought tooth and nail to get Sherilyn married into the Goldings, thinking it was their one-way ticket to the top—a guaranteed leap from rags to royalty. However, he never imagined that in a family like the Goldings, they would stop treating someone like a human altogether once they lost their worth. They were tossed aside the moment they were no longer useful. Richard looked over at Elon, who still had not made a move, and let out a cold laugh. "If you can't do it, get out of my sight." Elon numbly stepped aside, staring at the weeping Sherilyn as if she were a stranger. His eyes were hollow, and his body did not move. Suddenly, three men and eight women were dragged into the hall and forced to their knees before Richard. Each one wore a look of absolute horror. "So, you're the ones who were fooling around with Sherilyn, right?" Richard asked calmly. None of the group who had participated in the
In the faint light of dawn, Aspen slowly woke up back at the hotel. Her body ached, and a soft groan escaped her lips as she frowned from the soreness. The last thing she remembered before blacking out was Andrew finally arriving at the villa to find her. Everything else after that was a blur. However, she vaguely recalled him treating her wounds and undressing her. When Aspen realized Andrew had undressed her, she bolted upright and flung the covers aside in a panic. Her bare, pale body was fully exposed beneath the sheets, with bandages wrapped around her chest and lower abdomen. She wondered how Andrew helped with the bandage, and if he had touched her. If he did, where did he touch? Did he touch her chest, her thighs, or even her private part? A sharp scream echoed through Room 9527, and Andrew jolted awake on the sofa, looking more irritated than surprised. "What the hell? You moaning from a dream or something?" Aspen scrambled to sit up, her face flushed with fu
"Not bad. You look stunning," Andrew commented with a smirk. Aspen silently cursed him for being a pervert. Though she was fully dressed now, her expression remained dark, and her mind kept flashing back to the thought that he might have touched every inch of her body—especially the most private parts. Her skin crawled just thinking about it. … After a quiet breakfast downstairs, the two returned to the villa they had been staying in. "Pack your things. We're leaving. It's not safe to stay here anymore," Andrew said casually. Aspen frowned, feeling both annoyed and disappointed. "The house was perfect, and it was paid for, too. Such a waste, all thanks to you!" Andrew let out a cold laugh. "Then why don't you stay behind?" Aspen's face went pale in an instant, and she did not dare argue further. At this point, she and Andrew were practically bound together—if she did not stick with him, she was not sure she would live to see the next day. They gathered a few essentia
In one of the rooms inside the private club. "Mr. Parks, I'm still recovering from my injuries, so I truly can't drink. I hope you'll understand," Aspen said politely, her brow tightening. She had come expecting a legitimate business conversation—a contract negotiation. However, judging by the atmosphere and Davon's sleazy expression, it was clear he had other intentions. Fat-faced and beady-eyed, Davon swirled a glass of red wine as he leered at her. He said, "Ms. Stevens, you must be new around here. I guess you're not familiar with how things work in this city. "When you sit down to talk business, drinks and fun go hand in hand. Loosen up. Don't be so uptight. Tell you what—down this bottle, and I'll sign that contract on the spot. Deal done." Aspen replied calmly, "I'm sorry, Mr. Parks. I don't drink at all. But if you sign the deal today, once I've recovered, I'll gladly toast with you to celebrate." Davon's smile faded, and his tone sharpened with irritation. "Aspen,
Aspen's expression fell immediately. If she had not been injured, this group of muscle heads would not have even made her blink. However, her chest wound had just been freshly bandaged by Andrew—if she fought now, the stitches would rip open for sure. Still clutching in pain, Davon was helped to his feet by two of his men. He stared at Aspen with a twisted grin. He taunted, "What, getting scared now, slut? Do you think you're walking out of here after that? Think again. Let me be real clear—the only reason I agreed to meet you today was to screw you. If I don't have you writhing and begging under me tonight, then this deal is far from over." Aspen's face twisted in fury. "Why don't you go home and screw your mother instead, you fat freak?" Davon roared, "Get her! Hold this bitch down for me!" His goons lunged at Aspen like starving wolves. Suddenly, a figure shot in from the side and landed in front of Aspen like a shadow. Then, three kicks flew out in the blink of an eye,
Aspen glared coldly. "Says who? What is this? Are the Haywoods running a den of thugs now? Does no one here know what decency even looks like?" Rufus let out a sinister chuckle. "Sweetheart, did you really think this club was built for a legitimate business? You rookies must be first-timers here. This entire club belongs to Seth Haywood himself. "And what we offer isn't just champagne and contract signings. We provide services that rich men like Mr. Parks truly value. You want logic and fairness? Girl, after you've been taken a few times, you'll realize reason doesn't matter. Power and money are all that do." Aspen's face darkened instantly when she heard that it was Seth, the same man who had once pursued her and paraded around like a golden boy from a noble lineage. She never would have guessed he was secretly running this kind of hellhole. She was glad she never placed any hopes on him. But right now? They were surrounded by over 100 armed guards. Injured or not, there was n
Yet, of all the fearless, reckless men they had encountered, neither Aspen nor Chantelle had ever seen anyone as stubbornly arrogant as Andrew. Both women were completely stunned, wondering where he even got the guts to say things like that. In this world, commoners fear officials—but officials? They fear the men with guns—the military. However, here was Andrew, treating a colonel like Xavier as if he were worthless weeds. It was utter madness—like a sparrow challenging an eagle, a lamb taunting a wolf. It was sheer recklessness bordering on suicide. With a thunderous swoosh, Xavier's massive broadsword came crashing down with enough force to split boulders and level trees. Just the murderous pressure from that swing made Chantelle's face go pale. She was starting to doubt if she could even stand up to Xavier herself. After all, Andrew looked like he was about to be torn in half by that blade. What infuriated her even more was that, at the height of danger, Andrew just st
"Colonel Haywood, you know full well that with your rank and position, you can't just go around killing people on a whim," Chantelle warned coldly. She added, "Besides, your friend Andarov used banned weaponry on Holtrien soil, which is a serious offense. You can be sure Mr. McCormick won't just let that slide." Left with no other option, Chantelle had to drop Derek's name to try to rein Xavier in. However, Xavier was not intimidated at all. His voice dripped with venom as he said, "Ms. Garcia, I respect Mr. McCormick—he governs this province, and I'll give him that. But do you think the Haywoods' name should be trampled like dirt? Especially by some no-name punk who doesn't know his place? "I'll chop him into pieces, and if I have to, I'll apologize to Mr. McCormick myself. But with the military accolades I've earned, the Haywood family's backing, and my deep ties in the defense department, killing this bug wouldn't even cause a blip on the radar." Chantelle's stomach twiste
Chantelle sneered, "All in all, you're just an ordinary man, a slave to your desires with a pathetically mediocre mind." She had finally caught an opening to hit Andrew where it hurt, and she was not about to waste it. Andrew chuckled. "Ms. Garcia, you really do live up to your title as a master of psychology. You got most of it right. But you still missed one tiny detail—like the fact that, right now, I've got a very clear image of your naked body in my mind." The bluntness of that line stunned Chantelle, and her expression twisted in outrage. She snapped, "Andrew! That was in the past—how dare you bring it up like it's nothing? Aren't you worried I'll kill you?" The usually cold woman was genuinely furious now. Andrew shrugged lazily. "I'm sitting right here, wounded and unarmed. Go ahead, kill me. But even if you did, you still wouldn't erase the fact that you once stripped bare in front of me." Chantelle raised her hand in fury but forced herself to lower it again with
Andrew was sitting on the lawn outside Serenity Villa, watching the crew from The Sovereign Residences repair his home. After the attack last night, it was a miracle the place was still standing—if the villa had not been built to the highest security standards, it would have been reduced to nothing but ash and rubble by the Srovika Federation mercenaries. Felix Daughtry, the security captain from The Sovereign Residences, a semi-martial king-level fighter, walked over with a grim expression and reported, "Mr. Lloyd, Serenity Villa took quite a hit. Full restoration might be difficult." Andrew glanced at him and said coldly, "I want it restored exactly as it was, and not just that—The Sovereign Residences will need to compensate me for all damages, including emotional distress. If that's too much, then I don't want the house anymore. I'll go to the press and let the world know just how useless your brand really is." Felix's face darkened, turning almost pitch black with anger. H
Since the night before, Xavier had been fully suited in military attire, standing vigilant and sleepless. He gripped a massive broadsword, and when the butler spoke, his voice was ice-cold. "Don't worry. Andarov won't fail me. That bastard Andrew is as good as dead." Though those were his words, doubt lingered in Xavier's mind. After all, Andarov never took this long to finish a kill. Nonetheless, the sun was rising—he should be back any minute now. Andarov, commander of the Blood Wolf Mercenaries, was ruthless and battle-hardened. Xavier met him while stationed overseas, and after several missions together, they became close allies. "With the entire Blood Wolf squad under him, it doesn't matter if Andrew has bodyguards. He won't last five minutes," Xavier sneered, confident. He was already planning the next steps—hold Seth's memorial as soon as Andarov returned, then introduce him to Luna to score even more clout. Having a famous international mercenary as a personal friend? E
At the Golding family estate, Elon exclaimed in disbelief, "What did you just say? Black Wolf is dead?" The butler, face tight with unease, replied, "Yes, sir. Early this morning, his body was found dumped in the sewer. The cause of death matched the last group of assassins perfectly. There's no doubt that it was Andrew who killed him." Elon's expression darkened instantly. "Even Black Wolf failed and ended up dead? Andrew... you've clearly been hiding more strength than we thought." The butler nodded gravely. "Sir, that man is definitely not some pawn on the board. Not only is Black Wolf gone, but the Srovika Federation mercenary commander the Haywoods brought in also died at Serenity Villa." Elon gasped. "Even Xavier's overseas hitman got wiped out? Are you absolutely sure?" The old butler's brow twitched. "Completely sure. This morning, both bodies—Black Wolf and the mercenary captain—were found side by side in the sewer on Blumedale's main street." Elon clenched his ja
On the ground, Black Wolf writhed in pain, howling in disbelief. He finally understood why that last squad of heavily armed mercenaries had vanished without a trace after storming Serenity Villa. This place was not just a house—it was a damn death trap. "Who sent you to kill me?" Andrew asked calmly as he twirled the dagger Black Wolf had dropped. Pinned down by Natasha and Dylan, Black Wolf was drenched in sweat, his shattered legs leaving him gasping in agony. He growled, "Why the hell should I tell you? You should know exactly who you've pissed off. Even if I'm in your hands, kid, if you lay a finger on me, the consequences—" Andrew did not let him finish. Instead, he drove the blade straight into Black Wolf's chest. Whatever threat Black Wolf was about to spit out died on his tongue. His eyes bulged in shock before his head slumped to the side—dead. "If you didn't have the sense to act like a prisoner, then I did you a favor and sent you straight to hell. Next time, try
Aspen could not help leaning closer to see what Andrew was doing. To her surprise, his breathing was steady—he was already asleep. She stared at him, both amused and annoyed as she thought, 'I'm lying right next to him, and he still manages to fall asleep? Am I not attractive enough? Or does this guy just not find me worth the effort?' That split second of realization triggered an unexpected wave of disappointment and frustration in her. … Meanwhile, outside Serenity Villa, a black figure moved silently across the ruined outer wall, climbing with inhuman ease. It was Black Wolf—Elon's secret weapon, a top-tier assassin with a reputation to match. A matte-finished blade dangled from his lips as he surveyed the building, swiftly memorizing the layout of the damaged villa. He was not alone. At least a dozen other men hid in the dark, surrounding the perimeter and lying in wait. Nonetheless, they were not predators, at least not to him. He scoffed, thinking, 'They're the bait,
Through the second half of the night, Serenity Villa remained eerily quiet. Chantelle stepped out from her lookout post and announced, "Looks like no one else is coming tonight. Everyone should get some rest." Andrew stopped her. "Hold up. You all stay on watch—I'll go rest." Chantelle narrowed her eyes. "Are you giving me orders like I'm your subordinate?" Andrew responded calmly, "Not at all. I just want to isolate myself and draw the next assassin in alone." Chantelle frowned. "So, you're planning to be alone in a room and give the assassin a shot at you? You're using yourself as bait?" Andrew replied, "Exactly. One mercenary commander from the Srovika Federation is dead, but with the Haywoods and Goldings both after my head, there's no way they'd just send one decent hitter and be done." Chantelle nodded. "That… makes sense. But you're injured. What happens if something unexpected comes up? Can you really handle it?" Before Andrew could answer, Aspen blurted, "It's