Chapter 195

“Blood…” Victoria trembled, her words fragmenting as shock overtook her. “So much blood… he jumped… oh God…”

Someone had committed suicide? Thalia felt her stomach drop.

“Victoria!” Sebastian burst through the doorway, immediately gathering the traumatized woman into his arms. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he murmured, cradling her against his chest. His voice dropped to a soothing whisper as he stroked her hair. “I’m right here. You’re safe now.”

Victoria shook uncontrollably, her fingers digging into Sebastian’s shirt collar. Tears streaked her ashen face—the sight had completely shattered her composure.

Guilt washed over Thalia. She should never have let Victoria wander the corridors alone. Judging by her state, Victoria must have witnessed the aftermath firsthand. That kind of trauma doesn’t fade easily.

After several moments consoling Victoria, Sebastian turned to face Thalia. To her shock, his complexion was nearly as pallid as Victoria’s. He met Thalia’s questioning gaze, drawing a deep breath before delivering the news.

“Andrew jumped to his death,” he said quietly. “Lady Blackwood couldn’t handle the shock. Her heart gave out on the spot.”

Thalia’s eyes widened in disbelief. Asher had barely returned to the Blackwood estate when he received news of his father’s suicide. Almost immediately after Asher had refused Andrew’s request to see Malfoy, Andrew had ended his life—a simple step from a window. Lady Blackwood had been in the same hospital wing. News travels quickly in such places. The shock triggered a massive cardiac arrest—the medical team couldn’t save her. Everything had happened with brutal suddenness. Yet somehow, it felt almost inevitable.

Chapter 195

After hanging up, Asher stood motionless in the mansion’s courtyard, rain beginning to speckle the flagstones around him. Two Blackwood deaths in a single day sent shockwaves through London’s elite circles. Asher moved quickly to suppress details of Andrew’s suicide. By the time of his death, Andrew had wasted away to skin and bones, his appearance so altered that even acquaintances wouldn’t have recognized the figure who plummeted past the hospital windows. As for Lady Blackwood’s fatal heart attack, the family withheld public announcement temporarily. This was the elder Mr. Blackwood’s explicit instruction. With one suicide already making headlines at the hospital, immediately announcing Lady Blackwood’s sudden death would inevitably feed the rumor mill. When the elder Mr. Blackwood received word of the double tragedy, he was still in the United States, unable to return immediately. After speaking with Asher, the old man spent the night slumped in an armchair, staring into nothing, grief etched into every line of his face. Following his father’s wishes, Asher arranged for both bodies to remain in the hospital morgue until the elder’s return, when proper funerals would be held.

Night pressed against the hospital windows. Thalia lay awake, her mind racing. The day’s events had knocked the world off its axis. She’d known about Lady Blackwood’s weak heart—at eighty-something, with chronically poor health, a sudden cardiac arrest wasn’t shocking under such circumstances. But Andrew’s suicide? Why would he suddenly decide to end his life? Was there a connection to Malfoy? These past days, Randolph had strictly prevented Asher from visiting her, and friends had carefully sidestepped any mention of Asher or the Blackwood family during their hospital visits. Consequently, Thalia remained completely unaware of Andrew’s poisoning.

Chapter 195

Asher had thrown himself into assisting police with the poisoning investigation while compiling evidence of Malfoy’s other crimes. They hadn’t spoken in weeks.

After tossing restlessly beneath the thin hospital blankets, Thalia finally reached for her phone. Her thumb hovered over the screen before typing a simple message: [I’m so sorry about your loss.]

Minutes stretched into an hour with no reply. Was he asleep? Or drowning in the administrative nightmare that follows family deaths? Thalia sighed, a heaviness settling in her chest. Though she wouldn’t admit it aloud, she hadn’t completely moved on from Asher. Not really. With the double tragedy striking the Blackwood family, her concern for him felt like a physical ache. He must be devastated.

Dawn was breaking when exhaustion finally began to claim her. As she drifted toward sleep, her phone screen illuminated the darkness. [I’m okay. Get some rest. You need it.]

Reading his message only intensified her worry. Okay? How could he possibly be okay? One was his father, the other his grandmother. She wanted to offer real comfort—something beyond platitudes. She rubbed her eyes, forcing them to focus on the screen. She typed. Deleted. Typed again. Deleted it all, character by character. In the end, Thalia sent nothing. Because words felt hollow in the face of such loss. Sleep finally overcame her resistance. Her fingers still curled around her phone, she surrendered to exhaustion. Thalia dreamed.

A small boy watched his father embrace another child, his eyes pools of sorrow and longing. She approached, realizing with a start that the boy had Asher’s distinctive eyes. “Asher…” she whispered. The little boy looked down, dejection written across his features. “I’m his son too,” he said softly. Pain bloomed in Thalia’s chest, sharp and insistent. She reached out, gently touching the boy’s head. “It’s going to be alright,” she said softly. “Someday you’ll meet someone who loves you completely. That person will be your salvation.” The boy lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Is that person you?” The pain in her chest intensified until breathing became difficult. Suddenly the dream shifted. Rain lashed down in sheets. Thunder crashed overhead. A man stood alone in the downpour, his silhouette a study in desolation. Adult Asher. She moved closer and saw his eyes were rimmed with red, his expression raw with grief. “He’s gone,” she heard him say, barely audible above the storm. Then, almost to himself: “That’s it. No second chances in this lifetime.” Thalia understood immediately—he meant he would never have another opportunity to experience his father’s love. She tried to speak, but her dream-self remained mute. Asher stood motionless, rain streaming down his face, indistinguishable from tears. “Asher…” Thalia murmured as consciousness reclaimed her. The ache in her heart lingered, too real to dismiss. Morning light filtered through gaps in the blinds. Another day had begun.

Chapter 195

On the third day after Andrew’s suicide, Thalia saw Asher. It was a stormy night. Lightning split the sky as rain hammered against the windows, driven sideways by gusts of wind. Tree shadows twisted and clawed at the walls, morphing into grotesque shapes that seemed to howl in the darkness. Thalia padded to the window, intending to close the blinds properly. That’s when she spotted him, a solitary figure standing in the deluge below. That silhouette was unmistakable. Asher. The scene mirrored her dream with unsettling precision. Her hand froze on the blind cord. She stood motionless, watching the rain-soaked man below. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she turned and pulled open her door, heading toward the stairs…