Chapter 285

Andrew shook his head. "Madam Vostokoff, despite your assurances, I wish to confirm this myself. I have my own principles, and I wouldn't proceed if my plan harmed innocent people."

Natasha chuckled. "I understand your kind heart, Mr. Lloyd. In fact, based on your insights, I've already devised a plan to sow discord between Finley and Atlas. Tomorrow, as West End's leader, I'll host a gala. Atlas's attention-seeking mistress will undoubtedly appear uninvited, and as our honored guest, you can witness the truth firsthand."

"That works. I'll be there tomorrow," Andrew agreed.

Dylan grinned. "Excellent plan. At the gala, you can set the stage for that lecherous Finley to make his move on Atlas's mistress. Expect fireworks."

Natasha smirked. "Knowing Finley, he won't be able to resist. And that woman's no angel; they'll hit it off instantly."

Andrew checked his watch. "It's late, Dylan. We should leave."

Dylan stood, relieved. "Thank goodness you came with me, Mr. Lloyd. What seemed a monumental problem is solved—it feels fantastic."

Natasha rose and gave Andrew a meaningful look. "Mr. Lloyd, it's late. Why not stay the night in West End?"

"What about me, Madam Vostokoff?" Dylan quipped.

The warmth vanished from Natasha's smile. "Mr. Garner, I believe you'd be more comfortable returning to South City. My accommodations are rather modest."

Dylan was stunned, then shook his head with a forced laugh. The disparity in treatment was striking.

"Mr. Lloyd, will you stay?" Dylan asked Andrew.

Dylan believed that, given Natasha's forwardness, Andrew should seize the opportunity. While Natasha's intentions weren't entirely pure, Andrew had little to lose—a passionate night with the infamous Black Widow, forging closer ties with West End.

Andrew, however, felt a headache coming on. Lauren and Francesca had been relentlessly messaging him all night, leaving him disinterested in Natasha's advances.

After Andrew and Dylan departed, Natasha called out, "You may enter."

West End's top fighters, waiting outside, immediately filed into the conference room.

"Madam, are you truly allying with South City against the Northern District?" Antonio Torres, an elderly man with graying hair, inquired.

"Yes," Natasha replied gravely. "We nearly fell prey to Atlas's scheme. If it weren't for Andrew, who accompanied Dylan and opened my eyes, West End might have been in grave danger."

Antonio, a highly respected figure, scoffed. "In my estimation, Dylan and Andrew likely harbor ulterior motives. Every organization in Jayrodale's underworld waits for an opportunity to seize power."

Natasha waved dismissively. "Antonio, that's unfair. That 'pretty boy' possesses extraordinary insight and knowledge. More importantly, Dylan inadvertently revealed that Andrew killed Griffin. Don't you think there's more to this young man than meets the eye?"