Aspen said through gritted teeth, "I'll never submit to any men. If you try to force yourself on me, I swear I'll die before I let that happen!" Seth's temper flared. "Even now, you're still rejecting me? Still looking down on me?" Aspen shot him a cold glare. "Damn right I am. Seth, if you weren't part of the Haywoods, what the hell would you even be worth?" Seth roared, "You think I'm worthless?! Then what about Andrew? That bastard—what the hell is he supposed to be?" Aspen let out a scornful laugh. "You clearly have no idea how terrifying Andrew really is. You wanna know what he is? Let me tell you—when it comes to combat, to medicine, to tactics, he's way out of your league. You're not even in the same universe." Seth's lips twisted into a manic grin. "Yeah, yeah, he's amazing. Sure, he's got skills. But no matter how good he is, he's still just a bug to me! This is Blumedale—we play by my rules here. And I don't care if that bastard has nine lives, he's dying tonight!"
"You're asking for death!" One of the older Haywood enforcers snarled and launched a palm strike toward Andrew's head. "Get out of my way," Andrew growled without even sparing the man a glance, throwing a punch sideways in one smooth motion. The man, a peak senior grandmaster, flew backward, his face contorted in shock and disbelief. His arm, which had met Andrew's punch, shattered instantly. He hit the ground hard, screaming in agony while clutching the mangled remains of his limb. That brief moment of destruction was enough to jolt Seth out of his daze. He started stumbling backward and screamed, "All of you, attack him now! Kill that bastard!" Yet, no one moved. The Haywood men froze, their faces pale with fear, looking at Andrew like they were staring at a monster. They backed away instinctively, their courage completely drained. It was not just fear—it was terror that ran bone-deep. Andrew's strikes were lethal and merciless, each blow either killing or disabling instan
Andrew hissed, "This third slap? No reason at all. I just don't like the look of your face and feel like beating you to death. And this fourth one's for your parents—since they clearly failed to raise you, I'll handle it for them." After the string of brutal slaps, Seth's head was spinning. His ears rang like sirens, and his vision started going black around the edges. "Andrew… I swear…" he gasped, his voice shaky. "I'll kill you. I'll kill you, you arrogant bastard!" However, just as he spat out his threat, a blood-curdling scream ripped from his throat—Andrew had suddenly snapped five of his fingers. "Keep going," Andrew said coldly, his voice like a death sentence. Seth's mouth bled as he glared up with bloodshot eyes. "You're dead. You're so fucking dead… "How dare you treat me like this? My family—everyone in the Haywoods—they'll never let this slide!" His scream pitched into hysteria as Andrew crushed the remaining five fingers on his other hand, rendering both of Se
"Y-You actually dared to kill someone?" Chantelle stormed up to Andrew, her chest heaving with rage as she shouted, "You do know that murder is a crime, right?" Andrew replied flatly, "Then go ahead and arrest me. But you saw it too—this dead mutt barged into my company with a gang of thugs and trashed the place. He kidnapped my secretary, tortured her, and tried to get away with it." Chantelle fumed. "You had every right to fight back, but you had no right to kill him, do you understand?" Andrew's voice sharpened with impatience. "Ms. Garcia, that's enough! So what if I killed him? The guy came stomping into my space, and I'm supposed to just roll over and play dead?" Chantelle let out a bitter laugh and hissed, "Andrew, Mr. McCormick favored you. You've got incredible medical skills, and in Blumedale, you were this close to making your mark. "You had a bright future ahead of you—respect, success, everything within reach. But why would you throw it all away like this? Don't y
Chantelle said with a smirk. "The moment he found out something happened to you, the look on his face could've scared someone to death." Aspen froze for a second, her heart thumping wildly as she glanced at Andrew walking just ahead. She could not help but wonder if Andrew actually cared whether she lived or died. Chantelle gave a half-smile, half-sigh. "Mr. Lloyd sure seems emotionally invested in you, Ms. Stevens. But, if you don't mind me overstepping—there's something off in your head." Aspen blinked. "Excuse me? Ms. Garcia, what do you mean by that?" Chantelle chuckled softly. "I majored in psychology, both undergrad and grad school. Even with just a little observation, I'd say you're showing classic signs of Stockholm syndrome." Aspen's lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Chantelle studied her with a piercing gaze. "And I can tell you're an intelligent woman. You know you're getting deeper and deeper emotionally involved. But deep down… you don't actually want
"I'm sorry, Andrew, but I can't marry you!" Christina Stevens declared coldly in the CEO's office of Stevens Corporation. She sat behind her desk, looking elegant in a black lace dress, her demeanor icy and aloof. Across from her sat a handsome man in modest attire. Andrew Lloyd could not believe what he was hearing and asked, "Christie, what do you mean? What happened to the promise between us?" They had agreed to tie the knot on the day Stevens Corporation went public, marking the end of their three-year courtship. "Since we've been dating each other, I'll be frank," Christina replied, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her stunning features exuded grace and beauty with every movement. "Andrew, don't you think the gap between us has grown too wide? It's like we're from different worlds now. Forcing this relationship won't do you any good. For me, it would be… a burden." A burden? Andrew was stunned, never expecting Christina to say such a thing. If it had not
In the elevator, Andrew opened the modest ring box. A dazzling pink diamond immediately caught the light, its brilliance filling the small space. This 7.5-million-dollar luxury ring was once known as the "King of Diamonds" of Jayrodale, truly one of a kind. Andrew did not know exactly how much money was on the bank card, but he was sure it was enough to buy Stevens Corporations ten times over. Moments ago, Christina and Irene had not even bothered to look at these treasures, with Irene dismissing them as junk. As the elevator doors opened, Andrew stepped out. "Well, well, if it isn't Andrew! You don't look so good," a mocking voice greeted him. Andrew calmly looked up to see a man in a tailored suit, his hair slicked back, holding a bouquet of blue roses. It was Shawn Fields, Jayrodale's infamous trust fund baby and one of Christina's most persistent admirers. Not wanting to talk to him, Andrew tried to sidestep him, but Shawn moved to block his path again. Andrew's eyes turn
Meanwhile, Andrew had already settled into a Rolls-Royce, heading toward Jayrodale General Hospital. His phone rang, and to his surprise, it was Christina calling. Since their relationship was over, Andrew saw no reason to answer. Yet, the phone kept ringing, seemingly urgent. Frowning, Andrew finally decided to pick up. "Andrew, listen to me. Turn yourself in immediately!" Christina's voice blared through the speaker, catching Andrew off guard. "That King of Diamonds is worth 7.5 million dollars, Andrew. Have you lost your mind? I know you did this to make me happy, but have you considered the legal consequences? Turn yourself in now, while there's still time. Don't worry, with Stevens Corporation's influence in Jayrodale, I'll do my best to keep you out of jail!" Christina's voice was filled with righteous indignation, feeling disappointed in Andrew. Andrew finally understood—she thought he had stolen the King of Diamonds. "You've got it wrong. I didn't steal it," he said sim