My Husband Is a Million Years Old Vampire-Chapter 180

For a second, the man’s body twitched—then went completely still, crumpling lifelessly to the floor.

Across the room, the last remaining man stood frozen in place, his whole body shaking uncontrollably.

He couldn’t even breathe properly anymore.

His lungs burned. His mind screamed at him to run, but his legs wouldn’t obey.

His mouth opened to shout—to beg—to do anything—but no sound came out.

Only a faint whimper escaped his throat.

This isn’t human, his mind screamed. This isn’t human at all!

But Raymond didn’t give him the time to process it.

With a terrifying calmness, Raymond stepped around him.

Before the man could even turn to defend himself, Raymond was already at his back.

Without a single wasted movement, Raymond’s fingers curled into claws, and with a savage, tearing motion, he ripped into the man’s neck.

The flesh tore open with a wet, grotesque sound.

Blood gushed out in a violent spray, coating the floor and walls around them.

The man stumbled forward, gasping helplessly, before crumpling into a heap, lifeless.

Raymond didn’t even glance at the body.

His face was carved in stone, his breathing calm.

Fueled by fury, by the silent, burning rage inside him, Raymond turned and began to walk forward—his boots heavy and sure against the blood-slick floor—as he made his way towards the room where he knew Valentina and their so-called boss were.

Inside the dim, filthy room, the man remained twisted in his ugly excitement.

Valentina, weak and trembling on the floor, was still fighting with everything she had left, but it was barely enough to keep him at bay. Her arms flailed weakly, her legs kicked with no real power behind them. The drugs still had their grip on her, weighing her body down like chains.

The man smirked wider, drunk on the sight of her helplessness.

Without a shred of hesitation, he crouched down to her level, his breath hot and foul against her skin.

"You’re mine now," he muttered darkly.

Before Valentina could turn her head away, he pressed his mouth against her neck, forcing rough kisses along her skin. His hands roamed greedily, ignoring her every desperate attempt to shove him off.

Valentina whimpered, twisting and pushing, her heart screaming louder than her voice ever could.

But it was useless.

The strength difference was overwhelming.

Still, she fought.

Still, she refused to stop resisting.

And that—more than anything—infuriated him.

With a guttural growl of frustration, the man raised his hand and delivered a brutal slap across her face.

CRACK!

Valentina’s head snapped sideways from the force.

Pain exploded across her cheek as she slumped to the side, gasping, dizzy.

The man stood up, seething, his face twisted into a monstrous scowl.

"You little bitch!" he roared, pacing angrily in front of her. "I was trying to be nice! I was going to pamper you, you ungrateful slut!"

He pointed a trembling finger at her, shaking with rage.

"But no—you want to fight? You want to act like you’re still a princess?"

He kicked the side of the mattress viciously, sending dust and dirt flying into the air.

"Fine!" he snarled. "One more move—just one—and I’ll call the others in here to hold you down! I swear to God, if you resist again, you’re going to wish you were dead!"

His voice cracked under the weight of his anger as he loomed over her, ready to strike again.

The man, breathing heavily, crouched down again, grabbing Valentina by the arm, forcing her roughly onto the filthy mattress.

Valentina’s mind screamed in panic.

Her body was weak, trembling from the drugs and the earlier struggle, but her spirit—her spirit refused to die.

Fight. Fight. Don’t give up.

As the man forced himself closer, Valentina gathered every ounce of strength she had left. Without thinking, without hesitating, she turned her head and sank her teeth deep into the flesh of his hand.

"Aghhh!" the man screamed, his voice tearing through the room. "You bitch!"

His hand yanked back instinctively, blood already dripping from the fresh bite mark.

His face contorted in pure rage.

"You ungrateful whore!" he roared, his voice shaking the walls.

Without any mercy, he raised his heavy boot and kicked Valentina hard against the floor.

The force of the kick made her body jolt violently, a sharp cry of pain escaping her lips as she curled into herself instinctively.

"You don’t deserve kindness! You don’t deserve peace!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the small room like a death sentence. "I’m going to make sure you regret this! I’m going to destroy you so much you’ll pray for death!"

Fueled by his rage, he turned toward the door, his voice bellowing.

"Where are you, idiots?!" he screamed. "Get in here! Now! She doesn’t want it the easy way—fine! We’ll make her regret ever being born!"

His footsteps thundered toward the entrance, ready to open the door for his men.

But before his hand could even reach the knob, there was a sharp click—the sound of the door being opened... from the outside.

The man froze, smirking viciously, thinking his backup had finally arrived.

"Good," he muttered under his breath. "Now you’ll see what real hell looks like."

But before he could take another step, a cold voice sliced through the air like a blade.

"How dare you."

immediately the boss heard the words behind the boss. His heart jumped into his throat. Then The boss turned around. His eyes got big, like dinner plates.

At that moment Raymond eyes landed right on Valentina. She was on the floor. Her eyes were half open. She tried to lift her head.

Valentina saw a shape in front of her. A shadow. It was Raymond. She knew it was him. She heard his voice.

"Val, I’m here," he said. His voice was soft but shaky.

"Ray..." she whispered. Her lips barely moved.

A warm feeling filled her chest. Raymond was here. She was safe now. This thought hugged her mind as everything went dark. She fell into the black. But it was okay. She felt safe.

"How did you get in here?" he yelled.

The boss lurched to his feet, his chest puffing like a threatened animal. His face contorted with indignation, veins bulging at his temples.

"Who the hell do you think—" he began, spittle flying from his lips.

Raymond didn’t wait for the tirade to build steam. He moved with a fluid precision that belied the rage coursing through him. Three quick strides brought him face-to-face with the blustering man.

The boss’s words died in his throat as Raymond’s hand shot out, fingers closing around his neck with vice-like pressure. In one swift motion, Raymond hoisted him upward, the boss’s expensive leather shoes dangling uselessly above the floor.

"What... how..." the boss gurgled, his eyes widening to saucers.

Shock replaced arrogance on the man’s face. His hands clawed desperately at Raymond’s forearm, but Raymond’s grip remained unshakeable. The boss’s gaze darted frantically to Raymond’s frame—noting he wasn’t particularly massive or muscle-bound. Yet somehow, this ordinary-looking man was holding him aloft with a single hand, as effortlessly as one might lift a paper cup.

The impossibility of the situation slowly dawned on the boss. His face drained of color, turning from crimson rage to ashen fear. This wasn’t just anger he was facing—it was something he couldn’t comprehend.

"Please," the boss wheezed, his legs kicking feebly in the air. "I’m sorry—I’m so sorry. Just put me down." His hands clutched desperately at Raymond’s iron grip.

In the same breath, his chin jutted forward defiantly. "This doesn’t concern you anyway. Let me go and we’ll forget this ever happened. You don’t understand what you’re getting into."

Raymond said nothing. His eyes were cold, distant—like he was looking through the man rather than at him. The silence stretched between them, heavy and ominous.

The boss opened his mouth again, but before any words emerged, Raymond’s free hand whipped through the air.

CRACK!

The slap connected with devastating force. The boss’s head snapped violently to the side as five teeth exploded from his mouth, scattering across the polished floor like bloody dice. A perfect crimson handprint bloomed across his cheek.

Blood poured from his ruined mouth. His eyes bulged with shock and pain.

"You bwoke my teef!" he garbled, blood bubbling over his lips. "You—"

CRACK!

The second slap landed even harder than the first. The sickening sound of cartilage and bone giving way echoed through the room. The boss’s nose collapsed sideways, and something in his jaw shifted with an audible pop.

At that moment the boss’s eyes glazed with terror as realization crashed over him. There would be no escape. No talking his way out. No second chances.

"P-pweash," he gurgled through his mangled mouth, blood and saliva dripping down his chin. His body trembled violently in Raymond’s grip, like a leaf in a storm. "I’m sh-shorry... so shorry..."

His words slurred incomprehensibly through broken teeth and shattered jaw. His once-commanding voice had diminished to a pathetic, quivering whisper.

Raymond’s face remained stone-cold. His eyes were distant, as if watching the scene unfold from somewhere far away.

CRACK!