#Chapter 259 The Task Force

Andrew buried his face in his hands, his arms propped up on his desk. It had been a whirlwind of a few days with no time to decompress. Between the press conferences and the meetings to discuss possible ways to save the werewolf/human trade agreement, Andrew had barely had ten minutes to himself. Now that he finally did, Andrew could not help feeling the overwhelming weight of the situation on his hands. Only in the privacy of his home office did he allow himself the freedom to immerse himself in the emotions that had been trying to bombard him since the vampires attacked his wedding: despair, fury, remorse. More than anything, he wished that he could turn back time and stop the attack—or at least protect Princess Aurora from harm. Just as he was letting the remorse sink its hooks into him, Andrew’s phone began to buzz. Reluctantly, Andrew shook off his melancholy and picked up the phone, putting back on his air of authority and power. “Hello?” he answered. “Hello, sir,” George Bla