Chapter 936
“We’ll tag team you and drain you dry!” Francesca teased with a smirk.
Andrew waved her off, signaling it was time to get serious. "Lauren and her parents headed back to Blumedale, right?”
Francesca nodded. “Yeah, they left early this morning to attend Michael’s funeral.”
She hesitated before asking, “Andrew, was Michael’s death really your doing?”
Andrew could read her like a book. She was softening, clearly having second thoughts.
However, Andrew was not the type to show mercy—not to someone like Michael, who had practically written his own death sentence.
“If I said it wasn’t me, would you believe me?” he replied calmly, deflecting the question.
Francesca smiled faintly. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever you say, I’ll believe it. You say the word, and I’ll follow it.”
Andrew chuckled. “That’s my girl. Then tonight, wash up and be ready for me on time.”
Francesca had not expected the conversation to take that sharp of a turn and blushed furiously. “Pervert! No way!” After breakfast, Francesca had the day off and headed over to Moonlit Apothecary. It was just Cedric holding the place down, so whenever she had free time, she would swing by to help.
Meanwhile, Andrew—true to form—played the role of hands-off boss and did absolutely nothing. Instead, he drove his G-Wagon straight to West End’s headquarters.
Aspen had already launched the company operations in Blumedale. As the man behind a billion-dollar empire, Andrew knew he would have to make an appearance there soon. However, he still had unfinished business in Jayrodale.
One of those pressing matters? Shiloh had captured another semi-martial king. At this point, the West End dungeon was holding two of them.
Natasha and Dylan were both stunned by it. Since when did guys at the semi-martial king level get thrown into lockup like street punks caught shoplifting?
When the steel door creaked open, Andrew stepped inside and finally came face to face with the one Elon had mentioned—Reuben.
The man was huge, nearly seven feet tall, with a menacing presence. His long, jet-black hair hung down in a wild mess that half-covered his face, making him look like some outlaw villain straight out of a martial arts flick.
In the neighboring cell, Phantom Eye let out a cold laugh. “Kid, you’ve got balls, I’ll give you that. Reuben’s a guest elder of the Golding family. Even their patriarch, Richard Golding, has to show him respect.
“And now you just walk in here like it’s no big deal? If Reuben wanted to kill you, he could snap your neck in a blink.”
Natasha and Dylan tensed up immediately. They had not expected Andrew to just waltz into the cell like that, especially not in front of someone as dangerous as Reuben.
Unlike Phantom Eye, who had been nearly beaten to death by Shiloh and had not recovered yet, Reuben was still in full form—he was a walking time bomb.
When he sensed someone approaching, Reuben lifted his head from the corner. His eyes, hidden beneath that wildness of hair, gleamed like a predator’s. A sinister grin stretched across his face.
He hissed, “I’m guessing you heard what Phantom Eye just said? I really have no idea who gave you the guts, but you seriously came in here empty-handed to face me? That violent woman’s not here right now. If I take you hostage, I can walk right out of here.”
Andrew glanced around casually as if he had not heard a word Reuben said and replied, completely unbothered, “Well, if you can take me hostage, then yeah… feel free to leave this place.”