Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance
Chapter 632

Hank was terrified his daughter might get stung by the bees swarming in their backyard. He sprinted over with lightning speed, pulling her into his arms and shielding her head from the buzzing menace. Leo, worried about Anya, quickly unbuttoned his shirt and wrapped it around her, protecting her as they sought refuge.

Soon, the air echoed with Wesley's agonizing screams, causing a commotion that woke the little one. Barely awake, the poor baby was jolted back to consciousness, crying uncontrollably. "Andre won't get away with this. Even if we fail, another family will take him down. Such a heartless man, he'll lose everything eventually and face retribution. Mia, Molly, you're not off my hook either." Leo captured the moment on his phone and immediately sent it to his uncle overseas. He also gave his uncle a quick rundown of the day's events and the current family situation.

As dusk approached, Andre's phone vibrated. He checked the message, his expression darkening. Opening the video, a proud smirk curled at his lips. "These fools, not sure if they deserve praise or punishment." "Still waiting for news from your three sons?" Old Walker asked, the tension in the room thickening. For Old Walker, this gathering was the most suffocating experience of his life. "Andre, I can't fathom your intentions." Andre replied, "If I'm not mistaken, Wesley was your pride and joy. He went to Eldoria Havenbrook, to my place, to see if my son was with Tom. If so, you wanted my mining rights. If not, you'd sever ties with Tom." Old Walker managed a strained smile, "Andre, your imagination is quite vivid."

Andre flipped his phone, showing Walker the live misery of his son Wesley, interspersed with a baby's cries. Old Walker's demeanor changed dramatically upon seeing his suffering son. "How could this be!"

Andre, recognizing his son's cries in the video, said, "That's my son, making a fuss again."

"Let my son go, Andre."

Andre put down his phone, the room filling with smoke again. "Then why did you touch my son?"

Old Walker's anger was palpable; he realized he had no leverage over Andre, but rather his own son was in Andre's control. "What do you want?"

"A choice, give me an answer."

Old Walker glared at Andre, "Don't overdo it. You're just a businessman; there are laws above you."

"Five years ago, the Nianci design was about to launch. Overnight, the founder had an accident, his wife committed suicide, and their child was killed by thugs. You then acquired it for a low price. Three years ago, a reporter who exposed the Walker family's materials as radioactive mysteriously disappeared overnight. The same day, you hired an assassin. Two years ago..."

"Enough!" Old Walker exploded. "And how are you any cleaner than me?"

Andre looked at him with disdain, "Tom is dead, Jillian a walking corpse. I'm offering you a choice for your fate."

Old Walker's phone rang, showing the Walker Corporation's stocks plummeting. "Andre!"

Andre remained silent, smiling.

"Having too many enemies makes you vulnerable to backlash," Old Walker said, trying to maintain his composure. "If I disappear, with the enemies you've made in the business world, there will be another Old Walker."

Andre chuckled, "No, kill one to warn a hundred. You're the chicken; they're the monkeys."

"What do you want?" Old Walker asked directly.

Andre looked at him, "I've already given you too much face by repeating myself three times."

"I'll give you the company, just let us go."

Andre scoffed, "I'm not interested."

A Walker Corporation without the sinister father-son duo, and with Reagan and Dylan's internal strife, would be defeated without his intervention.

Andre glanced outside, "It's getting dark. I promised my wife and child I'd be home early today, so they can see me when they wake up tomorrow. If it gets any later, I'll have to make your choice." "Alive!"

Andre stood, handing Old Walker a broken chopstick, "A gift for you, keep it."

"What about my son?" Old Walker asked, but Andre no longer responded.

Leaving the room, Andre instructed the men at the door, "Follow him closely. Act immediately if there's any trouble." "Yes, sir!"

Downstairs, Andre entered his waiting car, checking the stock information on his phone, "Continue the manipulation." "Yes, President."

Andre closed his eyes, ordering, "Book a flight back home for tonight, ensure the plane can land by 7 a.m. tomorrow. If not, use the private jet."

His son needed a diaper change every morning at eight, and by then, his wife and child would be awake.

"Understood."

Thinking of his little one, Andre replayed his son's crying voice messages in the car. His son's cries, unexpectedly more melodious than music, filled the space.

Back at the hotel, Andre asked the head of his second department to meet him there. Mr. Feng didn't waste a second, rushing over from the company, "President, you wanted to see me."

"The Walker family needs to disappear quickly, hand over the prepared documents to the police. Ensure Old Walker gets a special welcome in prison."

"Received."

Andre leaned back, his youthful appearance belying a weariness as if aged beyond his years, his demeanor calm as if tempered by time. "Which of our people who jumped ship to Walker Corporation is in D8 prison?"

Mr. Feng immediately responded, "His name is Nicholas, scapegoated by the Walker family, serving four years."

Andre's eyes flickered open, revealing a calm determination, "The news of Walker Corporation's bankruptcy must reach Nicholas's ears. And Old Walker... send him to Cell Block D8."

"Sir, what if the two of them..."

"Roommates."

The division head barely dared to question, simply responding, "Understood!"

Leaning back into his couch, Andre hadn't felt this drained in a long time. Indeed, people who grow accustomed to comfort tend to grow complacent.

Old Walker, let Nicholas keep him entertained then.

Before long, another subordinate approached with an update. Andre dismissed the division head and was then approached by a man in black. "Sir, we've placed Ann with a middle-aged couple. Good jobs, no vices, and they've always wanted a daughter. As soon as they saw Ann, they decided to adopt her." Andre had almost forgotten about her, "The details?"

His subordinate handed over a folder, containing every piece of information about Ann, including her birth certificate.

Andre lit his lighter, setting Ann's documents ablaze, watching as they turned to ash. He then handed over evidence of Wesley's illicit funds to his subordinate, "Take this to the police when you return, and start digging into Finley." "Understood!"