Chapter 99: Are You Kelvin's Disciple? (Part 3)

"Hattori is the protector of the Whitmore Family," Ethan repeated somberly.

Asher's expression turned concerned nodded and inquired further, "How much do you know about this guy named Hattori? What's he best at? And what's his background?"

"Hattori isn't exactly a secret; he's the guardian for the Whitmores. I do know a thing or two about him. The guy is tough as nails—he used to be a recon scout in the military. After serving his time, he spent three years in Europe as a mercenary hitman. He might not be topping any hitman rankings, but surviving in that world speaks volumes about his capabilities."

Ethan's voice took on a serious tone, "The thing is, ever since he got hired by the Whitmores, he's been low-key, no one ever sees him. There's some chatter that he's skilled with a combat knife, can stab straight through a target's heart. But that's all open-source info. Any classified skills, well, that's for him to know. But given his scout background, he's probably more proficient with firearms than anything; he wouldn't resort to using them unless absolutely necessary."

"As for other background details, I don't know the name of his mercenary group in Europe, but I've heard they were pretty notorious."

"Got it," Asher acknowledged, his thoughts growing heavier.

When Asher didn't speak for a while, Ethan's voice broke the silence on the phone, "Asher, do you want to send someone to take him out? Or should I swing by the Whitmores for a little visit?"

"Take him out?" Asher was taken aback.

"The Whitmores have their big guns, and so do I. Sure, Hattori's got skills, but considering his scout roots, he's better at evasion and survival. Maybe he underestimated you, getting too eager to track you down—that's why you caught and snapped pictures of him," Ethan chuckled. "As for his prowess, he's just an adept fighter. If we can catch him, taking him down won't be a problem."

"Adept fighter, huh?" Asher mused, his furrowed brow relaxing slightly.

If Hattori was merely an adept fighter, Asher really had less to fear.

"Let's leave this be for now. However, assign someone skilled to keep an eye on Stella Turner discreetly."

After all, the Whitmores were a powerhouse, significantly more influential than the Morgans and even surpassing Ethan's operation. Ethan's rise was just over a decade, while the Whitmores had been around for at least three generations, building intricate ties throughout New York, deeply entrenched.

Ethan had already done plenty for him; Asher didn't want to drag Ethan into another feud with a prominent family.

"Asher seems to have a soft spot for Miss Turner," Ethan chuckled mischievously.

Rolling his eyes, Asher knew exactly what his buddy was implying, but he didn't plan to hide his feelings. It was time Ethan knew just how important Stella Turner was to him: "She's my woman now."

"Congrats, man! Way to go, Asher! But I don't know much about this Stella Turner... Should I dig up some info on her?" Ethan's excitement was almost palpable and thrilled.

"No need, I'm hanging up!" Asher cut him off briskly and hung up the phone.

Putting away his phone, Asher reclined on the hydro-massage bed, with his mind racing with strategies. Even though Hattori was just an elite fighter, Asher didn't take him lightly. As Ethan had pointed out, surviving in such a harsh environment meant Hattori had to be skilled.

Now that he'd openly crossed swords with the Whitmore family, there was no going back. If he could defeat, or even better, eliminate Hattori, that ought to strike fear into the hearts of the Whitmores...

At half-past eleven at night, the Spirit Elixirs were ready. Maybe it was his refined skill or his heightened mental acuity, but this time he'd managed to produce not one but three Spirit Elixirs! He carefully stored two of them in crystal flasks and cleaned his ceramic pot more than ten times, ensuring everything was spotless. Then, with a deliberate motion, he disposed of the remaining assorted plants into the bathing pool.

He wasn't sure if Hattori would be meticulous enough to notice which plants they had purchased. If they were to go missing the next day, it would be obvious they had been used to make the Spirit Elixirs—not something Asher wanted to reveal.

Once everything was taken care of, Asher took a shower and wrapped in a towel and headed upstairs to his bedroom. It was now well past midnight, and Stella Turner was deep in her dreams.

Standing by the bed, Asher watched the woman lying there. In the tranquility of sleep, Stella's usual grace and elegance faded away, along with her mature, alluring aura. She was just an ordinary woman. Yet it was this very ordinariness that made her appear all the more real and, to Asher, Stella Turner was anything but ordinary. From the moment he'd claimed her, she had soared to the pinnacle in his heart, equal to that of Avery.

Asher was not a heartless man. This woman had given herself to him without asking for a title, willing to be his for life.

This woman was undoubtedly a blessing from above for Asher.

Asher stood quietly by the bed, watching Stella Turner sleep in the dark, her body curled slightly beneath the blanket, a trace of a contented smile on her lips. Perhaps she was dreaming of something delightful...

After a moment's hesitation, Asher carefully climbed into bed, trying not to disturb Stella, now lost in dreams.

The third day, just past eight in the morning...

Stella Turner slowly woke up, made a trip to the bathroom, and upon returning, murmured at the sight of Asher still in bed. She flopped back down, intending to catch a few more moments of sleep.

She had been so tired the day before...

Asher, partly awake himself and having clocked a solid eight hours, was roused by Stella's bathroom trip. He opened his eyes to her stunning beauty close at hand and couldn't resist drawing her into his arms.

"Don't move, let me sleep a bit more," Stella murmured with a cute scrunch of her nose, batting away Asher's hands under the covers.

Although this wasn't their first time, Asher still felt a thrill.

But unlike that first time, he no longer needed to feel nervous; the woman in his arms was all his.

Stella knew that Asher was up to his usual antics, but she didn't bother to respond. However, after just a minute, her breathing grew heavier.

Time passed, and at some point, Asher spoke, "You seem a bit tense, don't be. You're making me nervous too."

Pausing, he continued, "I might not have much experience, but I did some research last night. I learn quickly, and let's just say, I don't lack observational skills."

Asher spoke seriously while Stella contended with a mix of embarrassment and the impulse to send Asher packing from the bed.

The dry theories and detached explanations about this seemed like a joke. In Asher's view, it was better expressed as 'words can't capture the joy, it's best experienced first-hand.'

Undetermined time drifted by.

Stella's hand, resting on his chest, clenched and unclenched rhythmically, while his sweat dripped onto her face. His features were not perfect, but the gleam in his eyes revealed an irrepressible joy...

Asher grabbed his phone to check the time, tossed it aside, and pulled the blanket over Stella, covering himself halfway as well.

Twenty-one minutes. Not an eternity, but by no means insignificant.

Despite what the self-help books say about not getting hung up on timing, Asher couldn't help but feel self-conscious about it.

The debacle from last night was still fresh in his mind. It had been an embarrassing three-minute ordeal that left him feeling utterly defeated and with a shadow cast over his confidence.

This time, though, it went... okay.

Stella Turner lay wrapped in the comforter, utterly oblivious to the storm of thoughts in Asher's mind. Her cheeks were flushed with a glow of contentment.

She turned her head slightly to sneak a peek at Asher, who lay beside her, his breathing finally calming down. Tiny beads of sweat glistened like dew on his forehead and nose...