Chapter 1437
Rachel was not just any woman—she was a high-society heiress worth billions and the wealthiest divorcee in all of Blumedale. If she so much as lifted a finger, powerful men would line up just to kiss her feet.
But right now, she had only one thought in her mind—total submission to Andrew. She knew from this moment on that she would never overstep again. If it meant staying in his good graces, she was willing to humble herself completely.
If he wanted her body, she would give it—one night, two nights, as many nights as he pleased.
After all, no woman could resist men like him.
Once her initial fear faded, Rachel realized something even more intense had taken its place—she had completely fallen for him. She was ready to hand over everything—her heart, her body, even her fortune—if only he would cherish her for the rest of her life.
Like Aspen, Rachel craved to be conquered by a powerful man. However, her obsession came from pure awe, while Aspen’s came from something far darker and more unhinged.
Rachel admired strength, while Aspen was rough, volatile, and shameless in her desires. Yet, when it came to Andrew, both of them yearned to be dominated, to be utterly broken by him.
Unlike Rachel’s obsession, which was driven by admiration, Aspen’s feelings were twisted, intense, and disturbingly deranged. Truth be told, her Stockholm syndrome had already reached the point of no return.
Meanwhile, Andrew had no idea that the Keller sisters were now secretly competing for his attention. Nor did he realize that Rachel, the famously untouchable widow, had also set her sights on him.
Frankly, he had no interest in any of these shallow, painted women.
Just then, Lauren called. “Andrew, have you heard from Aspen?”
Andrew sounded surprised. “She’s not back yet? I’m almost home.”
Lauren’s voice was tight with worry. “Fran and I tried calling her multiple times, but her phone keeps going straight to voicemail!”
Andrew replied calmly, “Don’t panic. I’ll head to the company and check in.”
However, Lauren stopped him. “No need. I already went by the office—they said she left early and hasn’t come back.”
Andrew’s face darkened. “Stay home with Fran and don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”
After ending the call, a cold gleam began to rise in Andrew’s eyes. He tried calling Aspen’s phone again—once, twice, three times—but each time, the result was the same: shut off.
That alone told him something had gone terribly wrong.
Moments later, his phone rang—it was Aspen’s number.
Andrew answered, his voice flat. “Just name your terms, Mr. Driscoll.”
There was a pause, and then a dark chuckle from Rafael. “Didn’t expect you to be this sharp. Figured out it was me already, huh?”
Andrew replied, voice like ice. “Not only do I know it was you, I also know exactly how miserably you’re going to die.”
Rafael scoffed. “Cut the tough guy act, Andrew. You’re nothing in my eyes. Now listen up—follow the GPS coordinates I sent. There’s an old abandoned warehouse on the outskirts. That’s where your little girlfriend is. Bring me both pieces of the map, or you can kiss her goodbye. And I gotta say, you’ve got great taste. That girl’s got me tempted to mess her up myself.”
He let out a sleazy laugh, then ended the call.
A location pinged on Andrew’s phone immediately after. His face showed no emotion as he ordered the driver to head to that spot.
Sitting silently in the backseat, he closed his eyes to rest. He knew the moment he opened them again, blood would flow.
Whoever laid a hand on his little servant would die in his hands.