Aspen said, "As long as I have the power, I'll do everything I can to block Stevens Corporation from expanding in Blumedale. Andrew may have spared the Stevens family, but I'm not Andrew—I'm Aspen Stevens. "And you, Christina, are nothing but a vicious, two-faced bitch. I'd rather be a straight-up villainess than show you an ounce of mercy." With those cold parting words, Aspen turned and walked away. Dylan followed behind her, casting a mocking glance at the Stevens family trio. He thought they really were pitiful. With Aspen backed by Andrew and holding massive influence, the amount of resources and wealth she could mobilize was practically limitless. Crushing a small-time family like the Stevens? That was nothing to her, and she could do that with a flick of her finger. Christina snapped, "Mr. Garner, how does someone like you end up as Aspen's bodyguard? Doesn't that feel beneath you?" Dylan shrugged. "What's there to feel beneath about it? Ms. Aspen is with Mr. Lloyd

Dylan explained, "But you're a proud woman. You never used to bow to anyone, especially not to Mr. Lloyd. Now, you're just clinging to that same pride and defiance. "But the truth is, that pride of yours? It's already been worn down by Mr. Lloyd, completely. As for what's left… well, you know it better than anyone. You just don't want to admit it."Aspen grew frustrated. "I don't need you psychoanalyzing me. I just need someone to tell me—what do I have to do to break out of this mess? This constant confusion and misery?"Dylan shrugged. "Isn't it obvious? You're just as stunning as Ms. Aicker or Ms. Rhodes. Those two didn't mind letting Mr. Lloyd take what he wanted. So, why not follow their lead? Let's be real, Aspen—you've already fallen for Mr. Lloyd, and there's no shame in that. "Mr. Lloyd has that effect on women. I've been around him long enough to stop being surprised. You, Natasha, Francesca, Lauren… even that girl Nyla Goth from the Moonlit Apothecary in Jayrodale—if Mr

Aspen's face burned crimson as she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest. Damn it—her habit of going braless after showers had become second nature, and Andrew had seen her in this state. Humiliated, she spat, "Fine! Since my kindness is wasted on you, I'm going to bed!" She turned to stomp upstairs in a huff. However, Andrew suddenly sprang from his chair and tackled her to the ground. His arm locked around her slender waist as they rolled across the floor. Aspen's shock quickly turned to fury, wondering what the hell this bastard was doing. Was he actually trying to take advantage of her in the dark? She silently cursed herself for being dumb and wandered around practically naked in front of this pervert. She was basically giving him a chance to pounce at her. Just as she began struggling in earnest, Andrew's growl cut through the night. "Stop moving unless you want to die!" The next moment, a hail of gunfire erupted, muzzle flashes lighting up the darkness as b

Andarov could not care less about anything else and turned to flee, trying to blast through the villa wall and make his escape. However, Andrew's attacks were relentless, like crashing waves, giving him no chance to run. With perfect aim, Andrew struck the center of Andarov's back with a palm strike that exploded like a thunderclap. Bones shattered with a sickening crunch, and nearly two-thirds of Andarov's skeleton was crushed in an instant. Then, blood gushed out from his mouth as he collapsed, his massive eight-foot frame crashing to the floor. Raising his trembling, blood-soaked hand, he pointed at Andrew, gasping, "You're not… not just some ordinary man. You're from… Holtrien's Chetvine… You're part of the royal fa—" He never got to finish the sentence. Before the final word left his lips, Andarov exhaled his last breath and died on the spot. A single drop of blood fell from Andrew's waist, and part of his shirt had already soaked through with red. Natasha rushed over

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,