Chapter 297

Andrew shook his head. "I'm not sure. While these photos might anger Atlas, his calculated nature suggests he'll remain calm."

"Precisely," Natasha agreed. "Atlas is too shrewd. His initial reaction to these photos will be to control his anger toward Finley. We need to push further, provoking Atlas's fury to the point he turns against Finley completely."

Dylan shrugged. "Going further means catching them in the act. But where do we find that kind of evidence?"

"Where are Finley and Yvonne now?" Andrew asked.

"They went to the lounge after the gala, but we have no cameras there," Dylan replied.

Natasha sighed. "We can't install surveillance in the lounges—it would offend too many important people."

Antonio entered, announcing, "Madam, Mr. Garner, Mr. Lloyd—Yvonne has already left the estate."

"So this operation wasn't perfect," Natasha said, rubbing her temples. "Without concrete evidence linking Yvonne and Finley, we lack the leverage to drive a wedge between them and Atlas."

"Finley has remarkable self-control," Dylan remarked. "I expected him to take Yvonne to a hotel immediately after the gala, but he let her leave alone."

Antonio spoke with disdain. "Since this was Mr. Lloyd's plan, perhaps he has other brilliant ideas?"

"You don't think my plan was sufficient?" Andrew asked, eyeing him.

"Inadequate is an understatement. It was utterly useless," Antonio scoffed. "If Finley and Atlas were this easily taken down, West End wouldn't be walking on eggshells around them."

"Antonio, leave us," Natasha ordered, frowning.

Before leaving, Antonio sneered at Andrew. "If Mr. Lloyd wants to impress Madam Vostokoff, he should bring something substantial. These amateur tactics merely reveal your inexperience."

"Natasha, your subordinate seems suicidal," Dylan said grimly. "Who does this old fool think he is, disrespecting Mr. Lloyd?"

"Mr. Lloyd, I apologize for my subordinate's behavior," Natasha said sincerely.

"Let's check Finley's lounge," Andrew suggested, dismissing the apology.

Natasha hesitated. "They're gone. What's the point of looking now?"

They arrived at a guest lounge. Andrew opened the door to find a staff member tidying the room.

Dylan glanced around. "This is where Finley and Yvonne were. Had we placed a camera here, we might have captured something… interesting."

Andrew shook his head. "Unrealistic. In such a small space, with Finley's awareness, he would've noticed any surveillance immediately."

Natasha stepped forward. "Mr. Garner, Mr. Lloyd, there's nothing left to see here. Let's go. Even if these photos don't damage Finley and Atlas's alliance, sending them to Atlas will still be worthwhile."

Suddenly, Andrew said, "Wait."

Dylan and Natasha exchanged puzzled looks as he approached the staff member.

"Is something wrong, sir?" the staff member asked politely.

Andrew ignored her, focusing on her tray. Two wine glasses, each holding remnants of a deep red liquid, sat upon it.

Natasha chuckled. "Mr. Lloyd, if you're interested in wine, there's a cellar with hundreds of premium selections. You can sample them at your leisure."

Andrew remained silent, then picked up the glasses, holding them to his nose. He sniffed carefully, his expression growing serious. "Cantharides!"

Natasha's smile vanished. "Cantharides? Isn't that a potent aphrodisiac?"

Dylan's face paled. "Mr. Lloyd, are you saying… this wine contained cantharides?"