Aspen's expression darkened as she watched Christina nervously hover her thumb over the call button. "Christie, are you sure you want to make this call? You and Andrew have already gone your separate ways. What's the point of reaching out now?" Christina bit her lip, her anxiety plain to see. "Honestly, I don't even know what I want to say. But… I need to know. I need to hear his voice. I need to know if he really hates me as much as I think he does." Aspen did not say another word. She just leaned back and crossed her arms, her eyes cold with indifference. 'What a waste of time', she thought, 'Andrew is long gone—probably feeding worms in a coffin by now. This phone call is pointless.' Still, if Christina wanted to chase ghosts, so be it. The phone would either go straight to voicemail, or someone else would pick up. Andrew was not alive to answer. To Aspen's surprise, the call connected. "Hello?" came Andrew's familiar voice on the other end. Christina's heart leaped. S
Aspen was in disbelief. After all, she thought Gordon was supposed to have already killed Andrew. Hence, there was no way Andrew could still be alive. Aspen's mind spiraled into chaos. Her breathing grew ragged, and her thoughts twisted in every possible direction. She even wondered if it were Andrew's ghost, a vengeful spirit coming back from the grave. Her trembling fingers fumbled for her phone as dread coiled tighter around her chest. She quickly called Gordon's number, only to find that his phone had been turned off. Aspen's heart skipped a beat. She already knew it would not go through, but she kept dialing anyway—again and again. She tried more than a dozen times, and each time, she was met with the same automated response that the number was unavailable. Frustration exploded within her, and she screamed, "Gordon! What the hell is going on? Are you dead or alive? Can't you give me a damn sign?" The silence that followed was deafening. Nothing about this made sense. A
Aspen's heart pounded in her chest as she led Bruce and Jackie, two of the family's top enforcers, toward the location on the GPS. Her pulse was racing, her anxiety reaching its peak with every step. When they finally arrived at the indicated spot, Aspen's eyes scanned the area. However, there was nothing—no sign of Gordon. "Damn it!" she cursed, her frustration boiling over. "Did the GPS malfunction?" Her mind raced with anxious thoughts as she silently prayed, 'Please, Mr. Woods… please be fine.' If Gordon was gone, her position in Jayrodale would collapse. All the advantages she had painstakingly built would vanish overnight. However, that was not the worst of it. If Gordon—their so-called "secret weapon"—was really dead, the Bridgefields' Stevens family would be dealt a disastrous blow. Without him, the family's strength would be cut in half, leaving the Stevens family wide open to its enemies. "Miss, there's no sign of Mr. Woods anywhere," Bruce reported. Aspen's
Aspen did not say a word. Her lips trembled as she crouched down, reaching toward the skeleton. Her fingers found the metal ring resting on the bony remains of a hand. She pulled it free, her breath catching in her throat. It was a signet ring—made of reinforced alloy, untouched by the decay around it. Etched into the surface was a single word: Woods. Aspen's mind went blank for a moment before a wave of dread crashed over her. She mumbled, "Mr. Woods… is dead." Her heart pounded erratically as the truth she had tried so hard to deny solidified into cold, undeniable reality. That ring was Gordon's—a personal item he never went anywhere without. Yet, here it was, buried with this broken, rotting corpse. The implications were crystal clear. Jackie stumbled back, his face deathly pale. "W-Who the hell did this? Who the hell in Jayrodale is capable of taking him down?" Bruce sucked in a sharp breath. "Miss, t-this has to be Mr. Woods. There's no mistake. We need to inform the f
Jackie wore a deep frown, worry etched across his face. "But Miss, we're completely stuck here in Jayrodale. We have no working capital, no reliable connections, and now Mr. Woods—our strongest card—is gone. We can't pull off anything without resources." Aspen shot her a glare, voice cold and sharp. "Shut up. It's not as hopeless as it looks. Don't forget that I still have the pharmaceutical formulas from Rhodes Corporation's Pharmaceutical Division. Those formulas are pure gold." She added, "Stevens Corporation has already partnered with a manufacturing firm to start production. Once that kicks off, we'll have cash flowing in soon enough." Bruce gave a cautious nod. "That's a start, but we still need protection. Without someone strong guarding our operations, we'll be exposed." Aspen's lips twisted into a venomous sneer. Her grip on the ring tightened, her knuckles turning white. "Andrew… this is all your fault." She turned to Bruce. "Find Finley Moore for me. Tell him I wan
Andrew smiled warmly. "Fran, you've really thought this through. What does Mr. Aicker think about it?" Francesca nodded. "Grandpa agreed, but he asked me to check with you first. The Moonlit Apothecary is yours, after all. He doesn't want to come here uninvited and cause trouble." He continued, "He's also worried people might start gossiping that the Aickers are trying to take over your medical center." Andrew's expression turned serious. "If Mr. Aicker feels that way, he's being way too polite. Tell him the doors of the Moonlit Apothecary will always be open to him. Anytime he wants to come by, he's more than welcome. He won't just be a guest—he'll be part of this place." Francesca's eyes lit up with gratitude. "Thank you, Andrew! Honestly, Grandpa's always wanted to run a medical center like this—something prestigious and respected. But our family's been struggling for years. Grandpa's been saving every penny for Simon and us younger ones. He couldn't bear to spend the money
Lauren said with a playful smile, "Of course not! If anyone's doing the bullying, it'll be me bullying Dr. Lloyd!" Francesca rolled her eyes and said, "Lame. Then why did you drag me over here? Just to flaunt your sweet, lovey-dovey moments and make me jealous?" Lauren gave her a mock glare. "Francesca, we've known each other for years. When have I ever done something disloyal to you?" Francesca thought for a moment and realized she was right. With a laugh, she said, "Okay, fine. What is it then? You've got that mischievous smile, so spill it already!" Lauren stared at her intently, so long that Francesca started to feel uncomfortable. Finally, Lauren asked, "Fran, tell me the truth… do you like Andrew?" Francesca gasped, eyes wide as she quickly lowered her head. "I-I don't know what you're talking about. Of course not! I mean… obviously not!" Lauren huffed in exasperation. "Fran, do you really think you can fool me? I know you like the back of my hand, so stop with the aw
Lauren sighed and said, "At the end of the day, it all comes down to my family's alliance with the Driscoll family in Blumedale. Anyway, Fran, I can't sleep with Dr. Lloyd right now. But you don't have that restriction, so you can go ahead and give him what he needs." Francesca bit her lip, looking embarrassed. "Forget it. How could I take Andrew before you do? I'd rather wait for you… maybe we can figure it out together." Lauren's face turned bright red as she squirmed in her seat. "What? If we do it together, wouldn't that mean all three of us in bed? Like… a threesome?" Francesca's cheeks flushed even deeper. "I-I don't know either." She took a shaky breath and added, "But Lauren, since you've been so good to me, I should be honest, too. I need to tell you something… or else I'll feel guilty." Lauren covered her mouth, stifling a laugh. "Don't tell me… you've already slept with Dr. Lloyd?" Francesca's face turned ghostly pale. Her eyes filled with guilt as she whispered,
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