Andrew frowned as he glanced at the arrogant woman before him. Though attractive, her superiority complex was something he could not stand. "I suppose this is Aspen Stevens from the Bridgefields' Stevens family?" Dylan asked in surprise. Aspen smiled condescendingly and replied, "Mr. Garner, I'm surprised you know who I am. I didn't realize my reputation had spread so far into Jayrodale." "You're indeed well-known for both your business acumen and martial arts skills," Dylan said coldly. "However, this isn't Bridgefields—it's Jayrodale, and such a high-profile attitude might not serve you well here." Aspen responded with unwavering confidence, "Mr. Garner, you should worry about yourself first. I hear South City is about to fall into Mr. Giordano's hands from the Northern District." She paused before adding, "As it happens, I have quite a good relationship with Mr. Giordano. If you ask nicely, I might put in a good word for South City." Dylan scoffed. "Who do you think you

The gala officially began at six in the evening. Since Andrew and Dylan were not there to dance, they found a spot to sit down and sample the gourmet offerings while keeping an eye on Finley and Yvonne's movements. The West End gala attracted Jayrodale's elite society, and the dining area showcased nothing but premium delicacies. "There are some real beauties here, like that Serena," Dylan said admiringly. "I wouldn't mind getting to know such a sultry woman." Andrew gave him an odd look and said, "You're sick—you've got the Casanova Syndrome." "Mr. Lloyd, is this Casanova Syndrome serious?" Dylan asked anxiously, knowing that Andrew was a brilliant physician whose diagnoses were never to be taken lightly. Andrew peeled a lobster tail, popped it in his mouth, and shook his head. "This condition is usually incurable." "Incurable?" Dylan's face turned pale. "Mr. Lloyd, am I going to die?" "You won't die," Andrew laughed, making Dylan sigh with relief. "Mr. Lloyd, I've nev

"Is there a problem?" Natasha asked with a smile. "Madam, please hear me out," Aspen said seriously. "Andrew isn't worthy of being your dance partner. In fact, he's not even worthy of being your servant." Natasha shook her head and replied, "Ms. Stevens, this is my business. Now, if you'll excuse me, we can chat more after the gala." After that, she walked straight toward Andrew, leaving Aspen stunned. The other guests had also noticed Natasha's movement, and whispers began to circulate through the crowd. "What's so special about this guy that Madam Vostokoff would ask him to dance?" someone muttered. "She even turned down Finley. Could she actually be interested in him?" another wondered aloud. "That's no ordinary guy—that's Andrew Lloyd, and rumor has it that he doesn't even bow down to Finley or Atlas!" someone explained. The crowd buzzed with gossip, especially the men who watched jealousy as Natasha smiled at Andrew like a lovesick teenager. Finley squeezed Yvo

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

"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