“Mr. Lake, please teach me. What’s the solution?” the young disciple asked.

Mosby grinned darkly. “Simple. Let them die.”

At The Sovereign Residences, Andrew pushed open the door to Aspen’s room only to find it empty. He turned sharply, frowning. “Didn’t I tell you guys to keep an eye on Aspen? I said don’t let her jump off the damn building!”

Dylan gave an awkward laugh. “Come on, Mr. Lloyd, isn’t that a bit dramatic? I really don’t think she’s that unstable.”

Andrew sneered. “Says the guy who’s still single at your age. Figures.”

Dylan blinked. “Excuse me?”

What happened to having a normal conversation? Did Andrew have to aim straight for the personal wounds?

Still, Andrew could not shake the worry gnawing at his chest. He really was concerned that Aspen might have done something reckless. That woman had always been a little unstable, and the stuff that happened between them in the car recently? Yeah, not exactly therapy-approved.

If Aspen got caught in a spiral and decided to jump from a building or into a river, that guilt would land squarely on his shoulders. He pulled out his phone, ready to call her–only for it to start ringing first. Aspen had beaten him to it.

“Come to the office,” her voice snapped. “Someone from the Wrights is here, making a scene.”

Then, without giving him a chance to reply, the little brat hung up on him. Andrew let out a cold laugh.

So, Christina had gone crying to Quinton after what happened at Phoenixdream Enterprises–playing with wolves like that? She was bound to get bitten eventually.

Ten minutes later, Andrew arrived at Supreme Capital Group. He scanned the room–no Christina or Quinton. The only ones present were Aspen and a tall, ice-cold woman with a face that screamed, ‘I’m better than you.’

Andrew sized her up instantly. Another heiress from one of those high-ranking families, carrying herself like the world owed her something just for existing.

“So you’re the owner of Supreme Capital Group?” she asked, her tone sharp and mocking. “The guy who made my brother–and even the Haywoods and the Goldings–look like amateurs?”

Andrew didn’t flinch. His face remained expressionless. “Yeah, I’m Andrew Lloyd. And you are?”

The woman extended her hand. “Yara Wrights. Quinton’s sister. Well, half-sister, to be exact.”

Andrew gave a flat reply. “Ms. Wright, let’s stick to business. I’m not interested in your family drama.”

Yara retracted her hand with poise. “I only brought it up to make one thing clear–I’m not on Quinton’s side.”

Andrew raised a brow but said nothing. He turned to glance at Aspen.

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Aspen looked uneasy and muttered, “Ms. Wright didn’t come here to pick a fight, it seems. She came to talk business… with you.”

Andrew was caught off guard. “Business?”

He turned back to Yara, who had just crossed the room and seated herself without invitation. She casually crossed her long legs, putting them on full display–her sheer black stockings extending all the way up, and those tiny shorts doing little to hide anything.

From the right angle, anyone could see straight into her most private territory, not that she cared. She sat facing Andrew, completely unbothered, and said coolly, “That’s right. I’m here to discuss a partnership, Mr. Lloyd.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes. “What kind of partnership? Let’s hear it.”

Yara paused for a moment, then spoke without a shred of emotion. “A joint venture… to kill Quinton. Tell me, Mr. Lloyd–would you be interested in that sort of project?”

Chapter 1230