My Husband Is a Million Years Old Vampire-Chapter 41

Hearing what Victoria just said.

Valentina’s stomach churned.

She knew exactly what Victoria was trying to do.

If she apologized, it would be recorded, posted, twisted. The world would see her broken, humiliated.

’Never.’

She refused to give Victoria that satisfaction.

Her lips pressed into a firm line, her jaw tightening as she looked away.

Victoria’s smirk faltered slightly at the lack of reaction. Her fingers twitched against her phone.

She wanted more. She needed to see Valentina break.

But Valentina wasn’t giving her anything.

Edward, annoyed by the lingering silence, exhaled sharply. His patience was thinning.

"Enough of this nonsense."

He turned to the officer standing at the door.

"Take her to a cell. Now."

Valentina didn’t flinch.

Immediately Victoria grinned.

"Oh, this just keeps getting better."

Edward continued, his voice sharp.

"I don’t want to see her face sitting here comfortably when the owner arrives."

His eyes flickered with a hint of amusement.

"Let her get used to where she belongs."

The officer nodded, then moved forward.

However Valentina held her head high, refusing to show fear, but deep down, frustration burned in her chest.

As the officer reached for her wrist, Victoria lifted her phone again, recording.

"Smile, Valentina," she sneered. "This is only the beginning."

At that moment the manager said again.

"All of you are making a big mistake."

The officer hesitated for a brief moment, his grip on Valentina’s wrist loosening as he glanced toward Edward for confirmation. Edward’s jaw clenched.

The last thing he needed was a lowly manager challenging his authority in front of Victoria.

"What did you just say?" Edward’s voice was low, cold.

The manager, despite the evident tension in the room, didn’t waver. He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as he spoke.

"I said," he repeated, voice firm, "the owner of the company did not order for Valentina to be locked up. He ordered for her to be released immediately."

Edward let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

"And who the hell do you think you are to question me?" He stepped forward, his presence overwhelming, towering over the manager.

But the manager stood his ground.

"You’re making a mistake," he warned again.

"A very, very big mistake."

Immediately Edward’s eyes darkened even more.

"Oh? And what exactly do you think is going to happen?"

The manager’s voice remained unwavering.

"If you go against the owner’s orders, Edward, you’ll be the one paying the price. And trust me, you won’t just lose your job."

At that moment Victoria’s amused smirk faltered slightly.

Edward, for the first time, looked uncertain.

The officer’s grip on Valentina fully loosened as he took a step back, awaiting further instructions.

The manager took a slow, steady breath before delivering his final words.

"If you go through with this, Edward, you won’t just be throwing your career away. You’ll be the one inside that cell very, very soon."

Edward’s face twisted in disgust as he took a step closer to the manager. His eyes burned with fury, his lips curled in contempt.

"You’re pathetic," he sneered. "Absolutely useless. No wonder you’ve been nothing but a liability to this company."

The room was thick with tension. The staff who had been watching from the corners dared not breathe too loudly. Even Victoria, who had been enjoying the humiliation of Valentina, fell silent for a moment.

But the manager didn’t flinch.

"I know what I did," the manager said, his voice calm but firm. "And I stand by it. You, on the other hand, are making a grave mistake."

Edward let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

"A grave mistake?" His voice dripped with mockery.

"The only mistake here is that you’re still standing in front of me, running your mouth like you have any authority."

At that moment the police officer shifted uncomfortably, his grip on Valentina tightening slightly before loosening again. He was waiting for clearer instructions.

Valentina, watching the exchange, was deeply confused.

Why?

Why was the manager still standing by his words?

Why wasn’t he doing what any sane person would do—lie to save himself? Why wasn’t he throwing her under the bus, claiming she seduced him, or manipulated him into giving her the items?

Why was he so sure of what he was saying?

She couldn’t wrap her head around it.

The manager, with a strange, eerie confidence, repeated his words.

"You’re making a mistake, Edward."

Edward’s jaw ticked.

He had had enough.

His eyes flashed with pure rage as he turned sharply to the officers.

"Lock them up!" His voice boomed through the room.

"Both of them. I don’t want to see their faces again."

**

Raymond sat in his study room, his fingers tapping against the wooden desk, his jaw clenched in frustration. The clock on the wall ticked in slow, agonizing seconds, but Valentina was still not back.

His gut twisted. Something felt off.

He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his dark, slightly tousled hair, his eyes clouded with unease.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.

He should have followed her. At least watched from a distance. Why had he let her go alone?

Then his hands curled into fists.

Not again.

He had just found her. After everything—he had finally gotten her back. He wasn’t going to lose her again. Not now. Not ever.

His chest tightened, a heavy weight pressing against his ribs.

She was strong—he knew that. But she had also suffered. And he had sworn, sworn that this time, he would protect her. That he would keep her safe. That he would make sure she grew old without ever fearing for her life again.

But now—she was out there, alone.

And he didn’t even know where she was.

The sudden realization made him sit up sharply.

His phone.

Without wasting another second, he grabbed it from the desk, fingers hovering over the screen. He would just call her. He would hear her voice, and everything would be fine.

But then—he froze, his breath caught in his throat.

He didn’t have her number, his fingers clenched so tightly around the phone that his knuckles turned white.

"Damn it!" His voice came out sharp, cutting through the silence of the room.

How the hell had he been this stupid? How did he not have his own wife’s number?

His teeth gritted, frustration and worry mixing like fire in his veins.

He couldn’t waste anymore time.

Without hesitation, he typed out a message and sent it to a particular number—ZK.

[Send me my wife’s number. Now.]