Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance

Andre glanced at the boy who looked even younger than his years. When a man tried to include him in his assault, Andre didn't hesitate. He snapped his belt, letting it whip across the man's face with a sharp crack. A red welt quickly formed. "Damn it, I wasn't even getting

started..."

Tossing the belt aside, Andre launched himself into a brawl with the man.

It took less than a minute for Andre to overpower him, sending him sprawling to the ground. The man's back collided painfully with a roadside rock, leaving him writhing and unable to rise.

With the obstacle removed, Andre and Conner locked eyes for the first time, both surprised to find a contemporary in such a setting.

"What's your name?" Conner asked, clearly impressed by Andre's skill. "You've got some moves. How about sticking around with me?"

Unbeknownst to him, this encounter would be the start of a challenge he could never quite overcome: Andre.

Andre chuckled at Conner's cocky offer, dismissing him as a wannabe tough guy. He turned his attention to a girl, hoping she was his sister, Molly. But she wasn't, and disappointment clouded his expression.

The girl, desperate, clung to Andre's backpack, tears streaming down her face. "Please, help me."

"Don't get involved," Conner warned. "This place is a mess you don't want to handle."

Andre turned back to the girl, her bruised and battered state reminding him of his sister, who should have been safe and sound. "Do you know where you live?" he asked gently.

She nodded.

Andre made a quick call, and within ten minutes, two men arrived. "Mr. Andre," they greeted.

Gesturing toward the girl, Andre instructed, "Take care of her."

Conner whistled, impressed. "Looks like you've got some serious connections."

Their second encounter was in a club's private room.

"Fancy seeing you here again," Conner said, now the second-in-command of the street.

With Conner's help, the previous boss had solidified his reign over the red-light district. Andre knew that if he needed information, going straight to the boss was the way to go.

The boss, cigar in hand and flanked by admirers, eyed Andre with curiosity as the young man stood unfazed before him.

A heavily made-up woman sauntered over to Andre, ignoring his stern "Back off!" She reached out with her red-tipped nails, aiming for his shoulder.

In a flash, Andre picked up a wine bottle and smashed it over her head without a second thought.

Blood trickled down, staining his grey sweater. The other women in the room gasped, rushing to help the injured woman. Andre, however, remained still, his gaze fixed on the man across the room. "Mr. Chapman, we've got business to discuss." "What do you want?" the boss inquired, intrigued by this fearless youth. If Andre joined him, his ambitions could grow beyond this one street.

Andre pulled out a photograph. "I'm looking for someone. Has she been here?"

"Who are you?"

"André."

Conner, hearing Andre's name for the first time, scrutinized the clean-cut young man. Compared to him, Conner felt like dirt, unable to wash away his own darkness. Andre seemed like a proud, untouchable king.

But Conner knew better than to underestimate someone who looked so clean and composed.

Conner examined the photo. "Why are you looking for her?"

"Any useful information will be handsomely rewarded," Andre said with confidence.

The boss couldn't help but admire Andre's audacity. "Who exactly are you? Conner, do you know anything about him?"

Andre turned to Conner. "So, you're from the Nettleton family."

...

Without realizing it, Henry had dozed off while listening, pushed to the edge of the bed by his mom to sleep alone.

Meanwhile, Andre's cat nestled into her husband's arms, resting her head and wrapping her arms around his waist. "So, what happened next, honey?"

"Conner took the job, but Molly had been missing for two years. The area was too chaotic to trace her easily. I stayed there for a while."

"You stayed there?!" she exclaimed, jealousy flaring. She knew well enough what kind of place that was and didn't like the idea of her husband staying there. Andre quickly pulled her closer. "I stayed at a hotel owned by the Cedillo Group."

"Oh," she said, her jealousy fading. "Go on, honey."

"He was really loyal. Once he found out I was searching for my sister and that our mom had died of heartbreak, he helped me scour not just the street but all of Newtown, though he eventually had to tell me there was no trace of Molly

Though their interactions were brief, mutual respect grew between them.

Andre had no idea his friend would one day turn out to be such a fool.

His search for his sister had gone on long enough, and his brother Naomi had called repeatedly, urging him to return home. Before leaving, Andre looked for Conner, learning he had gone to the red-light district, and Andre followed. It happened to be the anniversary of Conner's mother's death.

Conner sat alone in the room he'd lived in for twelve years, burning paper money in a small pot.

Andre joined him, both sharing the silent sorrow of losing their mothers.

He crouched beside Conner, spreading out the paper money before tossing it into the fire.

"I kind of envy you," Conner said. "At least you have someone missing to hold onto."

"I don't think you'd envy the nightmares," Andre replied. "Not a day goes by without them."

Staring into the flames, Conner concealed his longing. "At least when they're missing, there's hope. Nightmares push you to find Molly. For me, there's no hope, only the memory of finding my mother's dismembered body and enduring that pain over and over."

Andre's hand shook, fully aware of the Nettleton family's tragedy.

"Andre, what will you do when you find the person who took Molly?" Conner asked, adding another piece of paper money to the fire.

"Kill them," Andre said simply.

After a pause, Andre asked, "And if you find the person who killed your mom?"

"Same," Conner replied.

They stayed indoors for about half an hour until Naomi called again, fabricating a story, "Andre, you need to come back and deal with Leq. He's causing trouble! If we don't get him a new bed, he's going to wet the mattress in protest."

While on the call, Naomi had to cover her son's mouth to keep him from protesting his innocence.

Andre hung up and stood. "I have to go. I'll have someone send over the payment."