Chapter 289

Meanwhile, in the Scarlet Lounge, West End. Natasha had rented the entire luxury resort for the event. Andrew and Dylan arrived to find the entrance lined with high-end cars. Stunning women in designer dresses and sharply dressed men in tailored suits moved in and out, exuding power and wealth.

Dylan leaned closer, whispering, "Mr. Lloyd, Natasha isn't as conventional as she seems. She's kept West End in check for years, but she has ties with several high-ranking officials and wealthy benefactors in Jayrodale. Many of the men here are… admirers."

Andrew adjusted his suit, replying casually, "It was obvious last night—Natasha knows how to use her charm to her advantage."

Dylan smirked. "No doubt. Those legs? God knows how many men she's brought to their knees."

Andrew smiled faintly. "Smart women always know how to use their assets. Something you, with your bluntness, wouldn't understand."

Dylan chuckled. "You're right, Mr. Lloyd. I'm just a regular guy, and I definitely lack Natasha's ability to leave men powerless."

As they spoke, a bright pink Bentley pulled up, drawing everyone's attention. A valet opened the door, revealing a curvaceous woman who stepped out with exaggerated grace. She was dripping in designer labels, her makeup heavy, and she carried herself like a spoiled diva.

Dylan grinned, nudging Andrew. "Mr. Lloyd, that's tonight's star, Atlas's mistress, actress Yvonne Fuller."

Andrew observed the woman as she exited. Her face held a haughty smile, as if judging everyone. When the valet reached for the keys, she sneered, "Make sure you clean the seat. I don't want your filthy self leaving any marks."

The valet stammered, "O-Of course, Ms. Fuller," before nervously driving off.

Just as Andrew was about to look away, another figure caught his eye—a man in a loud, head-to-toe red outfit, including gaudy red loafers, swaggering toward the entrance. It was Finley, his flamboyant style making him look like a strutting rooster.

"Well, well, Mrs. Giordano! Fancy seeing you here. Invited by Madam Vostokoff? Perfect timing—we can go in together!" Finley exclaimed, his face lighting up upon seeing her.

Yvonne extended her perfectly manicured hand, giggling as Finley took it. "Mr. Moore, what a pleasant surprise. With you here, tonight won't be boring. Will you be my dance partner later?"

Finley's eyes glinted. "It would be an honor, Mrs. Giordano. We'll tear up the dance floor!"

Andrew and Dylan watched them strut inside, laughing and flirting.

Dylan snorted. "Honestly, gala or not, I bet Finley and Yvonne are already involved. Those two certainly don't keep things platonic."

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "If Yvonne's Atlas's mistress, why didn't Atlas come with her?"

Dylan hesitated, clearly surprised. "Mr. Lloyd, you're misunderstanding. Yvonne and Atlas… it's an affair. Atlas likes to maintain appearances. Yvonne's just another plaything he's had his fun with."

He smirked. "If you asked Atlas about Yvonne, he'd deny everything and claim he never associates with actresses or models."

Andrew chuckled. "So, he enjoys it secretly but won't admit it publicly?"

Dylan nodded eagerly. "Exactly. That's what makes her his mistress. Yvonne's a trophy—a pampered pet Atlas spoils when he's in the mood."