Chapter 1100
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 no way she could take them all down.
She looked at Andrew, a trace of urgency in her voice. “Come up with something. What do we do?”
Andrew shrugged nonchalantly. “What do we do? We fight our way out. What else?”
Aspen blinked, wondering if he was serious about fighting out. This demon was really that confident. After all, these were 100 trained muscles, fully armed.
Davon, still holding his stomach, sneered. “Fight your way out? Who do you think you are? You think you can take on 100 guys with bare hands? You messed with the wrong man today. You’re both dead meat!”
Rufus scoffed. “Last chance, punk. Get down on your knees. Apologize to Mr. Parks and pay him a million in damages. If he’s in a good mood, I might let you crawl out of here alive.”
Andrew tilted his head slightly. “Thanks for reminding me. Let me lay my terms down too. I’m giving the Haywoods and this pig-faced Mr. Parks one chance. You get on your knees and apologize to us. Do it now, and I’ll let it go. Otherwise… none of you are walking out of here in one piece.”
Rufus was stunned for a second, and then his face twisted into a snarl. “You really are asking to die. You come into our territory, mouth off like that, and threaten us? Not crippling you here and now would be an insult to the Haywoods' name!”
Davon spat through clenched teeth. “Aspen, you’re not actually betting your life on this clown, are you? Look at him–he’s gone delusional. You better get over here and give me what I want, or I swear, you’ll be begging for death before this night is over.”
Aspen sneered in disgust. “I told you–go home and screw your mother, you fat bastard.” Davon exploded. “Mr. Haywood! I want him dead! Kill him now–and if he dies, I’ll take full responsibility!”
However, Andrew started throwing punches before Rufus could even give the command. Within seconds, the room erupted in chaos—body after body hit the floor, groaning in pain.
Not a single one of the Haywoods' enforcers could even last a full round.
Aspen stood frozen, stunned. She knew Andrew could fight and had seen him take out elites before.
But this? This was something else.
He was not just winning—he was bulldozing through everyone like a human wrecking ball.
With a brutal stomp, Andrew kicked Davon square in the jaw. The fat man screamed as he flew back and crashed into a table, sending glasses and plates flying across the room.
Davon’s wail was guttural. “Mr. Haywood! Kill him! Kill that bastard! If anything happens to me in this goddamn club, I swear—I’ll make sure your family pays!”
Rufus’s face turned a deep shade of rage. He could not believe that Andrew dared to cause a scene under his nose, and he wanted Andrew dead.
Rufus could not afford to let this slide. With a cold snort, he leaped into the fray himself.
As a Haywood, he was not just some amateur–he was a full-fledged senior grandmaster. Running the club for Seth meant dealing with all kinds of troublemakers and hard cases, but in the end, whenever his intervention was required, every situation would be resolved flawlessly.