My Husband Is a Million Years Old Vampire-Chapter 178

At that moment the man finished stripping off the last of his clothes, his movements slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the fear thick in the air.

Then Valentina squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, willing herself to wake up from this nightmare. But when she opened them, the reality was still there, cruel and pressing down on her like a heavy stone.

The leader’s voice cut through the room, rough and full of mockery.

"Be a good girl," he said, his grin wide and disgusting. "If you behave, it won’t be too hard on you. But if you fight..." He leaned closer, his breath foul against her skin. "I’ll make sure you won’t even be able to walk again."

Valentina’s body shivered uncontrollably. The threat wasn’t empty. She could see it in his eyes—the dead, merciless glint that promised he meant every word.

"No, please..." she begged, her voice cracking as she tried to push herself backward with the little strength she had. "I’m sorry. I swear I’m sorry. I don’t even know what I did. I didn’t hurt anyone. Please, don’t do this to me."

She choked on her sobs, the tears blinding her vision. She raised her hands slightly, as if surrendering would somehow calm him, somehow make him stop coming closer.

"Please..." she whispered again. "I didn’t do anything wrong. I swear I didn’t. Why are you doing this? Why are you treating me like this?"

Her words poured out fast, desperate, messy. She tried everything—pleading, explaining, apologizing for sins she hadn’t even committed—anything that might touch a shred of mercy inside him.

But the man only sneered, unmoved, deaf to her cries.

At that moment he grabbed her by the arm roughly, yanking her closer to the filthy mattress.

Valentina’s heart sank deeper into despair. Her mind screamed for someone—anyone—to come. But no one would come.

And the monster in front of her showed no signs of stopping.

Valentina’s heart pounded against her chest so hard she thought it might tear through her ribs.

Her mind was racing—searching, grasping for anything, anything at all that could buy her a few more seconds, or buy her a chance.

Her voice trembled as she opened her mouth, forcing herself to speak even when her throat felt too tight to breathe.

"I’ll pay you," she said quickly, desperate. "I’ll give you money... any amount you want."

Upon hearing what Valentina just said The man paused, amusement flickering in his dead eyes. He leaned closer, towering over her like a nightmare.

"You?" he scoffed. "What can a little thing like you even offer?"

Valentina gulped down her fear and pushed forward. "One million dollars," she blurted. "I’ll give you one million dollars. Cash. Just let me go."

The man chuckled, low and mocking. He shook his head slowly, as if she were a naïve child.

"One million?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You think I’m cheap?"

Valentina’s hands clenched into weak fists on the ground. Her head was spinning, but she fought through it, desperation sharpening her voice.

"Five million!" she cried. "I’ll give you five million! You don’t even have to hurt me. Just... just let me go."

But he only smiled wider, enjoying the panic dancing across her face.

"No deal," he said coldly, standing taller.

Immediately Valentina felt her stomach twist in horror, but she refused to give up. Not now. She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

"Ten million!" she gasped, her words tumbling out frantically. "Ten million dollars! You’ll never have to lift a finger again in your life! Just please—please don’t do this!"

Still, the man stood unmoved. His eyes were already glazed over with the kind of cruelty that no amount of money could wash away.

Her voice cracked as she pushed out the final, desperate offer, her entire body trembling.

"Twenty million!" she screamed. "I’ll give you twenty million dollars! Please! I swear! Just let me go!"

The man’s smile faded slightly, but not because he was tempted. He simply crouched down to her eye level, his face inches from hers.

"I’m not interested in your money," he said quietly, his voice colder than death itself. "I want something else."

At that moment Valentina’s breath caught in her throat, terror creeping deeper into her bones as he reached for her again.

Valentina’s mind raced violently.

I have to fight. I have to do something. Anything.

Even though her body was betraying her, even though the drugs still weighed heavy in her veins, she knew—if she stay still, it’s over.

Her fists clenched weakly against the floor. She could barely lift her own weight, let alone push a man like him away. But none of that mattered. She didn’t have a choice anymore.

’Even if I die trying, I have to fight.’

Her breathing grew shallow as she stared up at him. He was coming closer now, his heavy footsteps sounding like thunder in the silent room.

Valentina’s heart slammed against her chest as he crouched in front of her, his large hand reaching out without hesitation.

She flinched as his rough fingers grabbed her thigh, squeezing her lap firmly, possessively, like he was inspecting something he had just bought.

At that moment a wicked grin stretched across his face. His voice came out low and thick with lust.

"Damn... you’re perfect," he said, almost in awe.

"The most beautiful body I’ve ever seen... All these years chasing women, and spending a lot on them and none of them had this..." His fingers traced along her skin, slow and cruel. "Just look at this lap... so soft... so perfect. I could stare at it forever."

Valentina’s stomach turned violently. She wanted to scream, to claw his eyes out, to disappear.

But before she could even think, the man’s other hand moved quickly.

With a sharp, brutal tug, he ripped her shirt at the neckline.

The tearing sound echoed in the filthy room.

Cold air rushed against her now-exposed skin, sending a violent shiver down her spine.

And Part of her breast was now visible, her body trembling under his sick gaze.

The man’s smile widened even more, dark and hungry.

Valentina’s nails dug into the ground. Her soul screamed louder than her voice ever could.

At that moment the man’s eyes roamed hungrily over her exposed skin. His face twisted with excitement, his voice thick with perversion.

"Wow," he breathed, almost laughing to himself. "Not just your lap... but even your breasts... they’re the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. Damn..."

Valentina’s heart nearly stopped.

Without thinking, she scrambled back with what little strength she had, dragging herself across the dirty floor. She crossed her arms over her chest in horror, trying desperately to cover herself, her hands trembling so badly they barely stayed in place.

"No... please..." she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of pure terror. "Please don’t do this... I’ll do anything, just—just don’t..."

Her body pressed against the wall, trying to shrink herself, trying to disappear, but the man kept coming, closing the little distance between them with slow, eager steps.

He didn’t care about her begging.

He didn’t even look at her face anymore. His hands moved to the front of his trousers, his fingers grabbing the zipper.

A wicked smile pulled at his mouth as he dragged the zipper down.

Valentina’s eyes widened in horror, her body frozen, her mind screaming.

**

Outside, the scene was thick with the scent of dust, rust, and something fouler. The abandoned warehouse.

A black SUV tore across the broken gravel road, screeching to a halt just yards from the entrance.

Immediately the door slammed open.

then Raymond stepped out, his face was like a storm. His jaw was tight, his eyes blazing with a rage so deep it could burn the whole place to ashes.

He stood still for a second, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as his eyes scanned the building, reading the signs—fresh tire marks, a cigarette still burning by the entrance, faint traces of disturbed dust.

And then, he caught it, a faint scent in the air.

Valentina.

Immediately his nostrils flared. His body tensed like a predator locking onto its prey.

"She’s here," he muttered under his breath, his voice low, deadly.

"Valentina is here."

Without wasting another second, Raymond stormed toward the warehouse door.

He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t knock. He didn’t even slow down.

With one brutal kick, the rusty metal door slammed open against the wall with a deafening bang.

His boots hit the concrete floor hard as he marched inside.

His face was a mask of cold fury. His jaw was tight, muscles twitching under the skin. His eyes—bloodshot from rage—burned like twin embers, deadly and unblinking.

He looked like a man possessed.

Inside, the place reeked of stale smoke, alcohol, and filth. A single flickering bulb hung from the ceiling, casting ugly shadows across the cracked walls.

And there—right in front of him—sat three men.

They were huddled around a table, laughing loudly, their voices bouncing off the empty walls.

On the table, Raymond caught sight of a pile of little packets—stimulants, enhancers—the kind of trash lowlifes used to boost their strength

For a half-second, none of the men noticed him. They were too lost in their sick jokes, their loud, careless laughter.

But the moment Raymond’s heavy steps echoed into the room—the moment his towering figure and terrifying red gaze locked onto them—their laughter died instantly.

All three heads snapped toward him.

Their faces drained of color.

The chairs scraped back violently as all three of them shot to their feet at once.