My Husband Is a Million Years Old Vampire-Chapter 181

The third slap sent the man’s consciousness flickering like a dying lightbulb.

Immediately his head lolled to the side, eyes rolling back momentarily before desperately fighting to stay awake. A strangled moan escaped his ruined mouth.

Then Blood streamed from his nose and lips, streaming down his neck and staining his expensive shirt. Now his face had swollen beyond recognition—a grotesque, distorted mask of what it had been minutes before.

He tried to form words, but only unintelligible sounds bubbled through the blood. His thoughts scattered like frightened birds. Nothing made sense anymore. The pain clouded everything. The world had narrowed to this moment, this room, this punishment that he couldn’t comprehend.

Raymond’s palm stung as it connected with Trevor’s jawline, the sound like a whip crack in the abandoned warehouse.

The man eyes rolled back, his knees buckling as he crumpled to the concrete floor with a dull thud.

Standing over the unconscious man, Raymond’s chest heaved, his knuckles white with tension. Blood trickled from a cut above his eye, but he barely noticed it. The rage that had fueled him through the fight was beginning to subside, leaving only a cold, hard knot in his stomach.

"I’m coming back for you," he spat, his voice raw with fury. The words hung in the musty air like a promise.

At that moment he turned away without a second glance, his attention immediately drawn to the small figure slumped against the far wall. Each step across the warehouse floor felt like an eternity, his heart hammering against his ribs.

"Valentina," he whispered as he knelt beside her.

Her skin was pale in the dim light filtering through the dirty windows, but the gentle rise and fall of her chest sent a wave of relief through him. Dark hair fell across her face, matted with sweat. A bruise was beginning to form along her cheekbone.

’She’s alive. Thank God, she’s alive.’

Raymond pressed two fingers to her neck, finding her pulse – weak but steady. He brushed the hair from her face with trembling fingers.

"Val, can you hear me?"

No response. She had passed out, probably from the drugs they’d used to subdue her.

At that moment Raymond’s throat tightened with guilt.

’I should have been watching. I should have known something was wrong when she didn’t call.’ The weight of his failure pressed down on him like a physical thing.

"I’m sorry," he murmured, though she couldn’t hear him.

"This is on me."

In the distance, sirens wailed – whether heading toward them or somewhere else entirely, he couldn’t tell. They didn’t have time to wait and find out. The thug wouldn’t stay unconscious forever, and his associates could return any minute.

Raymond slid one arm beneath Valentina’s knees, the other supporting her back. He lifted her against his chest, surprised as always by how little she weighed. Her head lolled against his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck.

"I’ve got you now," he whispered into her hair. "I’m getting you out of here."

With Valentina secure in his arms, Raymond headed for the exit, already calculating the fastest route to the hospital.

Not long after he arrived, and Raymond burst through the emergency room doors, Valentina’s limp form cradled against his chest. The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across her pale face, the bruise on her cheek now a deep purple against her skin.

"I need help!" His voice carried across the waiting room, drawing immediate attention from the nurses’ station.

A nurse in pale blue scrubs rushed toward them, her eyes quickly assessing Valentina’s condition. "What happened to her?"

"She was drugged," Raymond said, his voice tight. "I found her in a warehouse. She’s been unconscious for at least an minutes."

The nurse motioned to an orderly who wheeled over a gurney. Raymond hesitated before laying Valentina down, his hands lingering on her arm for a moment too long.

"Are you family?" the nurse asked, already checking Valentina’s vitals.

"Yes, I’m husband"

"We’ll take good care of her. You should wait here." freeweɓnovel.cѳm

Raymond pulled out his phone as Valentina disappeared behind double doors. His mother answered on the second ring.

"Cecilia, I need you." His voice cracked, betraying the calm he’d been fighting to maintain.

Fifteen minutes later, Cecilia rushed through the waiting room doors, her eyes finding him immediately.

"Where is she?" she asked, pulling back to search his face.

"They took her back for evaluation." He glanced toward the treatment area. "Cecilia,stay with her? She shouldn’t wake up alone, and I—"

"You have something to finish," his mother said, her expression knowing. She’d seen that look in his eyes before. "Go. I’ll call if anything changes."

without wasting anymore time Raymond headed for the exit. Once outside, his measured walk became a run to his car. His body hummed with renewed purpose as he sped back toward the warehouse.

**

At that moment the man consciousness returned in fragments—first pain, then confusion, then memory. His jaw throbbed where Raymond’s fist had connected, the taste of copper filling his mouth. He blinked at the concrete ceiling, trying to piece together what had happened.

"Who was that man?" he mumbled, words slurring through his swollen jaw. "Am I still alive?"

The warehouse remained silent save for the distant drip of water somewhere. He pressed his palms against the cold floor, attempting to push himself up. His arms trembled, giving way beneath his weight.

Then He collapsed with a grunt.

He needs to try again, he needs to get up and leave before he comes back.

The man second attempt ended the same way, his body betraying him. On the third try, he managed to roll onto his side, then lever himself up on one elbow. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the effort, but fear drove him forward. He got one knee under himself, then shakily rose to his feet.

The room tilted dangerously. Trevor staggered, catching himself against the wall. His legs felt like water, but he forced himself to take one step toward the door, then another. Each movement sent fresh waves of pain through his body.

He’d just reached the doorway when a voice froze him in place.

"You’re awake now, right?"

The voice sliced through the dim warehouse air like a blade. Trevor’s entire body seized, as if electricity had surged through his limbs. His heart hammered so violently against his ribs that he felt it might burst through his chest.

’He’s still here. He never left.’

At that moment the man mouth went desert-dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. He turned slowly, each degree of rotation sending fresh agony through his battered body. Raymond stood in the shadows, his silhouette darker than the darkness itself.

"Please," Trevor managed, the word barely audible. His legs gave way beneath him, knees cracking against the concrete floor. The pain barely registered compared to the terror flooding his system. "Please, I—"

Raymond stepped forward, emerging from the shadows. His face was a mask of controlled rage, eyes like two chips of ice. He didn’t speak, didn’t need to. The silence stretched between them, more threatening than any shouted threat could be.

The man words tumbled out in a desperate rush. "I’m very, very sorry for everything I did. I swear!" His hands trembled as he raised them in supplication. "I was just trying to scare her, that’s all. Just threaten her a little. I wasn’t going to really hurt her. I wasn’t going to use force or anything."

Sweat trickled down his spine despite the warehouse’s chill. Each second of Raymond’s silence felt like an eternity, like standing before an executioner waiting for the axe to fall.

Raymond took another step closer. The warehouse light caught his face at an angle, illuminating just enough for the man to see the cold calculation in his eyes. He said nothing, just stared down at the kneeling man with an expression that made the man blood run cold.

In that moment, understanding dawned on the man face—a terrible realization that turned his already pale complexion ashen. Raymond’s message was clear without a single word being spoken.

"That is the same thing I’m going to do to you. I am just going to threaten you."

The man ’s heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped animal. Each thunderous beat seemed to echo in the cavernous warehouse, a countdown to a decision he never wanted to make. Cold sweat trickled down his spine as Raymond loomed over him, silent and unreadable.

’he’ll kill me if I talk. He’ll kill me if I don’t.’

The code was absolute. Everyone in the organization knew it: client confidentiality above all else. The Thug Boss had drilled it into them from day one—reveal a client’s identity, and your life was forfeit. No exceptions, no second chances. The higher-ups didn’t tolerate loose ends.

The man swallowed hard, his throat clicking audibly in the silence. His gaze darted to the exit, now impossibly far away with Raymond standing between him and freedom.

"Look," he said, his voice cracking. "I don’t know who that woman is to you, but I—I can’t tell you who hired us." He licked his cracked lips, tasting blood. "I don’t personally know who the client is."