CHAPTER 182: CHAPTER 182

Raymond shifted his weight slightly, the subtle movement somehow more threatening than any overt gesture. Trevor flinched.

"The organization..." Trevor continued, scrambling for words that might save him. "We have protocols. Layers of protection. The person who gave me the job isn’t the same person who ordered it."

The gamble stretched before him like a precipice. Tell Raymond what he wanted to know and face certain death from his own people, or refuse and face whatever this man had planned for him right here, right now. The inhuman strength Raymond had already demonstrated made that option terrifyingly clear.

Trevor’s mind raced through scenarios, each ending worse than the last. The cold concrete beneath his knees seemed to leach the last warmth from his body as seconds stretched into eternity.

"All I know," he finally whispered, decision made, "is that it was a woman." He watched Raymond’s face for any reaction, any softening. "I don’t know her personally, but from what I gathered, she knows the lady very well."

Raymond released his grip just enough for the boss to suck in a ragged breath. His voice was dangerously soft.

"Did she call your phone?"

The boss nodded frantically, desperate for any reprieve from the pain.

"Y-yes," he managed through his broken jaw, the word nearly unintelligible.

"Call her back. Tell her you did it. Successfully." Raymond’s eyes narrowed. "Now."

His fingers tightened again, a reminder of what would happen if his orders weren’t followed.

With trembling hands, the boss crawled toward his desk once he was released. Blood dripped onto the polished floor as he fumbled through drawers, finally producing a sleek phone. His swollen fingers smeared crimson across the screen as he dialed.

One ring. Two rings. Three.

"Hello?" Maria’s voice crackled through the speaker. "It’s been almost ten hours! What’s taking so long? The job should’ve been done in five—"

Raymond snatched the phone. "Maria," he said calmly. "It was you who plotted all this against Valentina, right?"

The silence on the other end stretched for three heartbeats.

"Raymond?" Maria’s voice had transformed to a horrified whisper. "How—"

"I asked you a question."

Through the phone, he could hear her rapid breathing. The sound of something heavy falling against furniture.

"Listen carefully," Raymond continued, his voice ice-cold. "Stay exactly where you are. Don’t move a single step. I’m coming for you. And if you run..." He paused, letting the threat hang in the air. "What almost happened to Valentina will seem merciful compared to what I’ll do to you."

On the other end, the sound of ragged breathing stopped. Then came the distinct clatter of a phone hitting the floor.

Raymond turned back to the bloodied boss, who had crumpled against the desk. Despite his mangled face, desperation gleamed in his eyes.

"I did what you asked," he pleaded through broken teeth and swollen lips. "Please... forgive me. I swear, I won’t ever—"

His words cut off mid-sentence as Raymond’s movement became a blur. One moment Raymond stood three feet away; the next, his fingers had plunged deep into the man’s throat.

A wet, tearing sound filled the room.

The boss’s eyes bulged impossibly wide—surprise, pain, and the sudden knowledge of death all flashing across them in an instant. His hands flew to his neck, fingers scrambling uselessly against the gushing wound where his throat had been.

No sound emerged but a bubbling gurgle as he slid down the wall, leaving a crimson smear behind him. His expensive shoes kicked once, twice against the polished floor. Then stillness.

Raymond looked down at his bloodied hand with cold detachment. He reached for a pristine white handkerchief in his pocket and methodically wiped his fingers clean.

"Maria," he whispered, the name like venom on his tongue. His eyes darkened with a fury that had only just begun. The image of Valentina’s battered face burned in his mind, fueling something primal and merciless within him.

He stepped over the body without a second glance, his footsteps leaving red prints as he headed for the door. His path was clear now. There would be no mercy, no forgiveness.

Raymond stepped over the threshold of the warehouse, the heavy door swinging shut behind him with a metallic clang. The night air felt cold against his blood-spattered skin. His phone buzzed in his pocket, vibrating against his thigh like an urgent heartbeat.

Valentina’s name illuminated the screen. His breath caught in his throat.

"Valentina?" he answered, his voice suddenly softer than it had been moments before. "Are you alright? You’re awake?"

"Yes," she whispered. Her voice was fragile, like glass ready to shatter. He could hear the hospital machines beeping rhythmically in the background. "I’m awake, Ray."

He closed his eyes briefly, relief washing over him. When he opened them again, the determination had returned.

"I know where Maria is," he said. "I know what she did."

"Ray, listen to me." There was a new strength in Valentina’s voice now, despite its raspy quality. "I know it was her. I’ve known for a while she might try something like this, but I over looked this."

Raymond’s fingers tightened around the phone. "She nearly destroyed you, Val."

"I know." A pause. He could hear her shifting in the hospital bed. "But I’m asking you—I’m begging you—let me handle this my way."

"Your way?" Raymond’s jaw clenched. "She doesn’t deserve—"

"She’s still my family," Valentina interrupted. "This is between me and her. I don’t want you involved when it comes to my family. Please, Ray. I need to deal with this myself. My way."

The hospital room was quiet save for the steady beep of the heart monitor. Valentina sat propped against pillows, her face still pale but her eyes clear and alert. The bruise on her cheek had darkened to a deep purple, a stark reminder of what she’d endured.

Raymond paced at the foot of her bed, his footsteps heavy with restrained anger. He stopped abruptly, his hands gripping the rail of her bed until his knuckles whitened.

"So it was Maria," he said, voice low and dangerous. "Maria orchestrated all of this."

Valentina’s fingers twisted in the thin hospital blanket. "Yes."

"And you knew?" The question hung between them, sharp as broken glass.

"I suspected," she admitted. "I couldn’t be certain until now."

Raymond slammed his palm against the wall, making the whiteboard with her nurse’s information rattle. "Damn it, Val! This isn’t a game. You could have been killed."

"You think I don’t know that?" Her voice remained steady despite the fire in her eyes. "I was the one in that warehouse, Raymond. Not you."

"And I’m not going to sit back and let her destroy you." Raymond’s jaw clenched. "Maria doesn’t get to do this to you—to us—and walk away. I won’t allow it."

Valentina pushed herself up straighter, wincing slightly at the movement. "This isn’t your battle to fight."

"The hell it isn’t!" Raymond ran a hand through his hair, struggling to keep his voice down. "She came after what’s important to me. That makes it my fight."

"No." The single word cut through his anger like a blade. Valentina held his gaze, unwavering. "I made the mistake of underestimating her before. I won’t do it again."

Raymond crossed his arms. "So what? I’m supposed to stand aside while you put yourself in danger again?"

"You’re supposed to trust me." Valentina’s voice softened slightly. "Let me handle this my way. If I fail—" she hesitated, "—if I don’t handle it right, then you can step in. But I need to do this myself first."

"That’s not happening." Raymond’s voice was firm, final. "Not a chance."

"It is happening." Valentina’s chin lifted in defiance. "You can’t control this, Raymond. You can’t control me."

The silence between them stretched tight as a wire. Raymond’s breathing was heavy, his hands clenched at his sides. The anger radiating from him was almost palpable, filling the small room.

But beneath the anger, something else flickered in his eyes—uncertainty. For the first time since he’d known her, Valentina wasn’t backing down. Not an inch.

"Fine," he said finally, the word clipped and cold. "You want to handle it your way? Go ahead. But when it goes sideways—don’t expect me to stand by and watch you get hurt again."

He turned toward the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. "I just hope you know what you’re doing."

As the door closed behind him, Valentina released a shaky breath. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding it. Her heart raced beneath her hospital gown, but her resolve remained firm.

This was her battle, and she would fight it on her terms. As she leaned back against the pillows, she knew Raymond was furious—but she could also tell from the look in his eyes that, despite everything, he understood she needed to do this her own way.

Raymond’s grip on his phone tightened as he paced the hospital parking lot. The evening air felt thick with tension, matching the storm brewing inside him. His instinct screamed to protect Valentina, to hunt down Maria himself and end this threat permanently. But something else tugged at him—the memory of Valentina’s unwavering stare from her hospital bed, the determination in her voice.

’She needs to learn to fight her own battles. If she can’t...’