Chapter 388
Aspen had invested ten million dollars in Atlas’s operation, and if it were all gone, there would be serious consequences. They immediately got into the car with Irene and Leroy, heading toward Jayrodale’s Northern District.
Meanwhile, Andrew’s G–Wagon drifted to a smooth stop in front of the West End headquarters. Unlike usual, the building was surrounded by guards in black suits, dark ties, and sunglasses, creating an intimidating atmosphere.
One of Natasha’s top enforcers blocked Andrew’s path. “Sorry, Mr. Lloyd, but you can’t enter right now!”
“I’m here to see Madam Vostokoff. Is there a problem?” Andrew asked with a smile as he sized up the man.
The enforcer was a muscular giant with a crew cut and tattoos covering his neck, chest, and arms. His bulging muscles and fists the size of melons marked him as someone not to be messed with.
“Mr. Lloyd, please understand that Madam Vostokoff isn’t available right now,” the man chuckled, pushing Andrew back. “You’re an honored guest of West End, so come back another day, and we’ll talk properly then.”
“What if I insist on seeing her now?” Andrew’s smile remained unchanged.
The tattooed giant forced a polite smile. “Mr. Lloyd, it’s really not possible. How about I treat you to coffee next door while you wait for Madam Vostokoff to finish her business?”
Andrew glanced at the hand pushing him, and his smile faded. “Remove your hand and get out of my way.”
The man’s fake smile disappeared as his face darkened. “Listen, Mr. Lloyd. We’re being respectful because you’re a capable man who has Madam Vostokoff’s favor. But if you overestimate your importance, I won’t be so nice anymore.”
The enforcer looked at Andrew contemptuously, thinking he was just a pretty boy who had caught Natasha’s eye.
Before Atlas’s fall, they had needed his strategic advice to take down the Northern District. Still, now that Atlas was dead and West End had claimed the territory, Natasha was practically the underground queen of Jayrodale.
“Is West End really going to be so shameless as to burn bridges and take everything for themselves?” Andrew asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
The man growled, “Watch your mouth, Andrew! This is West End headquarters–if you don’t choose your words carefully, you’ll regret it!”
With a wave of his hand, about 60 guards in sunglasses surrounded Andrew, looking at him with disdain. They thought he was suicidal to challenge West End alone.
“Ready to leave quietly now? Let me give you some advice–know your place. When a little rabbit tries to provoke a pack of wolves, it won’t end well.”
West End had mounted this show of force to discourage troublemakers. They were prepared to turn away anyone who came looking for trouble, even if it was the Weller family or Finley himself.