Chapter 104

“Asher, I suspect the person who put Thalia into that predicament today works for Tom Malfoy. I can’t think of anyone else who would do something like that,” Thalia said quietly.

Asher’s arm tightened around her, his dark eyes gleaming with cold fury. “Tom Malfoy? Matry has indeed returned to London.”

Thalia stiffened.

“Lia, darling, I think it’s best if you work from home for a while. Keep outings to a minimum.”

“Is he… is Malfoy truly that dangerous?”

Asher released her but kept his hands on her shoulders, looking intently into her eyes. “I’m unwilling to gamble with your safety. When I learned how close you came to being killed today, my heart nearly stopped. You mean more to me than my own life—you must know that.”

The corners of Asher’s eyes reddened. “Against Malfoy, I’m entirely confident in my ability to prevail. His tactics are brutal, but I can be more ruthless when necessary. The difference is, he lacks any human feeling—no emotional vulnerabilities, nothing to exploit. One might say he lacks basic humanity. I, however, have you.”

“Lia, I simply can’t put you at risk.”

The dining room was brilliantly lit, the dishes on the table releasing enticing aromas. From the living room, the evening news played softly.

Thalia lowered her gaze, her eyes stinging. “Asher, am I becoming a liability to you?” she asked softly.

Asher’s eyes flashed with anguish and guilt. “How can you even think that? If anyone’s at fault, it’s me. If not for our relationship, you wouldn’t be targeted by Grace, nor would you have caught Malfoy’s attention.”

Thalia shook her head. “You’ve never been at fault. I’ve never once thought that.”

“But I do, because it’s the truth,” Asher sighed. “Just stay in for the next few days, would you? I’ll come round every day to be with you.”

Thalia nodded. “All right.”

“Asher, could you look into someone for me?”

“Who?”

“Feynman Port.”

A dangerous glint appeared in Asher’s eyes. “The man who arranged those thugs to assault you today?”

“Yes,” Thalia nodded. “My gut tells me he has powerful backing. A small factory owner wouldn’t dare arrange such a brazen attack on a barrister. It had all the hallmarks of organized crime.”

“I’ve already put people onto it,” Asher replied.

“Good.”

“Lia, let’s eat before everything gets cold,” Asher said, pulling out the chair beside her and sitting down.

“Yes, do join me.”

Tom Malfoy sat in the back seat of his car. His driver and bodyguard, Jerry, glanced in the rearview mirror. “Back to Miss Petrov’s place tonight, sir?”

Valeria Petrov, half-English, half-Russian, was from a wealthy family. With her fluent language skills, she had worked as a luxury travel guide before meeting Tom. She hadn’t returned to England in over two years. She was his favorite mistress in Russia and had accompanied him on this trip to London.

In the back seat, Tom lit a cigarette, lifting his eyelids slightly. “No. Take me to that girl… you know, the innocent-looking one. What was her name again?”

Tom was notorious for his philandering. With his strikingly handsome face and captivating eyes, he had countless mistresses in Russia. Within days of arriving in London, women were already throwing themselves at him. As long as they were attractive, Tom never refused.

His business ventures were constantly risky; one small mistake could cost him his life. Living in excess and pursuing immediate pleasures had become his philosophy. He craved intense gratification and used sexual indulgence to release tension. For Tom, women’s bodies were merely instruments for his relief. He could sleep with many, give them anything they desired—except love. He was a man without sentiments or heart. To him, love was the most useless thing in existence.

“You mean Miss Sophie, sir?” Jerry tentatively asked.

Tom took a drag of his cigarette. “Don’t think that was her name. The one Arno Jones brought around the night we arrived. Petite thing, long straight black hair, large eyes. Just turned eighteen, a university student, I believe.”

Jerry remembered. When they had first landed in London, Arno had arranged a welcome gathering. To please Tom, he had selected several exceptionally beautiful virgins, including the girl Tom described. That night, Tom had chosen two other girls to accompany him to his hotel for a threesome, leaving the black-haired girl behind. Nevertheless, Tom had apparently been interested in her. Though he hadn’t taken her that night, he had given her £20,000, ostensibly to fund her university education. The £20,000, everyone understood, was payment for her virginity. Tom had also gifted her an apartment near her university.

Having served Tom the longest, Jerry understood his nature perfectly. Tom was consistently debauched and promiscuous, keeping over a dozen women. Some, like Valeria, had been with him longer—nearly two years in her case. Others he would sleep with once or twice and never contact again.

“Sir, Miss Petrov rang about an hour ago. She’s prepared dinner and is waiting for you. You did say you’d be back for supper with her,” Jerry hesitantly said.

Tom gave a derisive laugh. “Lost my appetite for that, I’m afraid.”

“Very well, sir.”

Jerry said nothing more, quietly starting the car.

At Valeria’s luxurious residence, the dining room stood empty and silent. She had spent the evening preparing. A perfectly cooked steak sat on the table, alongside roses and a bottle of fine wine. She had dressed in an elegant burgundy silk gown.

She sat at the dining table, gently swirling her wine glass, her beautiful eyes filled with anticipation. The wall clock ticked steadily. The anticipation gradually gave way to disappointment. Finally, she reached for her phone and made a call.

The phone rang for a long time before being answered.

“Tom, are you busy?” Valeria asked carefully.

Sounds from the other end made her heart clench. She gripped the phone tightly, her knuckles turning white, tears falling instantly.

“Can’t talk now, darling. Won’t make it for dinner tonight,” Tom’s voice was slightly hoarse.

Valeria bit her lip, tears streaming down her face. Tom didn’t end the call but carelessly tossed his phone aside. The sounds that continued were unmistakable.

Valeria listened, each sound like a knife twisting in her heart. She had believed she was different in Tom’s eyes. She was the woman who had been with him the longest, the only one he’d brought to London. But now she realized her perceived special status was merely self-delusion.

As the sounds grew more intense, Valeria couldn’t bear it any longer. She hurled her phone across the room.