Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) novel Chapter 970

Andrew chuckled mockingly. "Looks like Harvey and the rest have finally learned their lesson."

After hanging up the phone, Andrew did not spare another thought for Quinton. Right now, in Jayrodale, it did not matter whether it was Quinton or even his father—the head of one of the Five Apex Families—if Andrew did not feel like showing respect, he would not even blink.

Meanwhile, Francesca was in the shower, her curvy silhouette faintly visible behind the frosted glass. Andrew saw it every day, so he was completely unfazed by now.

Before the busty little troublemaker came out and started clinging to him again, Andrew made another call—this time to Aspen.

"What do you want?" Aspen snapped the moment she picked up. "Calling at this hour—don't you think that's incredibly rude?"

Andrew smirked. "It's barely past eight—how is that rude? Or wait… are you with some pretty boy over in Blumedale right now? You two in the middle of something?"

Aspen was furious and shouted, "You're disgusting, Andrew! Do you think everyone's as shameless and horny as you are? I'm at a yoga class, and it's with a female instructor. So if you've got nothing useful to say, don't go running your mouth."

Andrew's tone stayed flat. "Yoga's good for you. I heard it's a real man-slayer. Anyway, let's cut to the chase. Two things. First—what's the update on the Rhodes family?"

Aspen sneered. "What, you nervous now? Hmph. Kenny just wrapped up the funeral for Michael, so things are winding down over there. It won't be long now before it's officially over.

"And his eldest daughter, Sherilyn—you know, the Goldings' daughter-in-law—she's already making moves. Word is, she's pulling every string she has to flatten Jayrodale and bury you."

Andrew replied indifferently, "If the Goldings show up, I'll kill every last one of them. Second—check your account. I just wired more money for the new company's operations. Use it wisely."

Nowadays, if you scrolled through any short video platform, every clip of someone doing yoga came with an endless stream of thirsty comments.

"Ms. Aspen, something bothering you?" her instructor asked, gently pressing down on Aspen's raised leg, bending her deeper into the stretch.

The move put her body on full display—hips elevated, legs fully spread, suspended mid-air like a living sculpture.

Aspen winced slightly from the stretch but forced a small smile. "I'm fine, don't worry."

But in her mind, she was screaming—hurling every insult she could think of at Andrew. 'Tyrant. Capitalist pig. Arrogant asshole. Absolute menace…'