My Husband Is a Million Years Old Vampire-Chapter 62

However Raymond remained still, his fingers lightly tapping against the table, his expression unreadable. The entire hall was watching him, waiting for his next move—waiting for him to officially back down.

Damien exhaled, shaking his head. It’s over. There was no way Raymond could go any higher. He had already pushed his luck, but this was the limit.

Even the wealthiest families had restrictions on spending.

A single transaction of 35 million dollars was impossible unless you controlled a bank yourself.

That was the rule, the law that kept even the top families in check.

And J12 controlled second to the largest banks in the country.

That meant they had already won.

Damien felt a bitter sense of relief. At least this is where it ends. Raymond might have made a scene, but he couldn’t do anything beyond this.

Beside him, Valentina reached for Raymond’s hand, squeezing it gently.

"That’s enough," she whispered, her voice soft but firm.

"You don’t have to do this anymore."

At that moment Raymond finally turned his head, looking at her. His expression didn’t waver, but there was something in his eyes—something unshaken, something absolute.

Then Valentina forced a smile, her grip tightening.

"You’ve already done enough. I’m not mad, Raymond. In fact... I’m really, really proud of you."

Her voice trembled slightly, but it was filled with sincerity.

"No one else would have done this for me. No one."

She exhaled, giving him a small, pleading smile. "So, let’s just leave now, okay? Quietly. We’ve already gone too far. There’s no need to humiliate ourselves any further."

She turned slightly, glancing at the crowd.

The amusement on their faces, the condescending smiles—she didn’t want Raymond to experience that.

Because no matter what, he had tried for her.

That was enough.

She just wanted to leave before they were truly embarrassed.

The moment stretched between them, silent, unbroken.

Then, Raymond chuckled softly.

A low, quiet laugh that sent chills up Damien’s spine.

Then Raymond leaned slightly toward Valentina, his voice calm, steady.

"Who said we’re done?"

Immediately Valentina stared at Raymond, her fingers still gripping his hand, but now, her concern was slowly turning into curiosity.

His confidence didn’t waver. Not even for a second.

Her heart pounded. What exactly is he thinking?

"Raymond," she whispered, her eyes locked on his.

"Are you serious about this? Thirty million dollars?"

Raymond let out a soft chuckle, his gaze steady.

"Did you think I came here just to lose?"

Valentina blinked. His tone wasn’t arrogant, but it carried an unshakable certainty. Like he had already won before the bidding even began.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough for only her to hear.

"Your husband knows exactly what he’s doing."

Valentina’s breath caught.

Raymond didn’t even glance at the J12 representatives—as if their presence didn’t matter to him in the slightest.

She thought back to earlier, when they arrived. The red card.

She hadn’t thought much about it then, but now...

She swallowed, her mind racing. The way the security guards bowed to him, the way the staff reacted, as if they were welcoming someone above even the highest elites in the room.

What does the red card actually mean?

She had wanted to wait until they left before asking, but now she she’s curious.

Because this wasn’t just confidence—this was something else entirely.

And for the first time, Valentina wasn’t just confused.

She was intrigued.

Then again Valentina’s heart raced as she gripped Raymond’s wrist, her voice urgent but hushed.

"Raymond, listen to me." She leaned closer, searching his face, hoping to see even the slightest hesitation in his confidence.

"Thirty million? This is ridiculous. Even if you belong to a third-class family, you can’t just spend this much on a necklace."

Raymond didn’t move. He didn’t waver.

Valentina’s frustration bubbled. "I’m your wife, Raymond. You should listen to me sometimes." Her fingers tightened.

"This money could be used for something important—something that will actually bring you returns, not this. This... is just reckless."

Her mind spun as she tried to reason with him.

"Let’s just leave. Please."

She knew Demian was watching them, knew others in the room were waiting to see how this would play out.

But she didn’t care about them. She only cared about Raymond, about making sure he wasn’t throwing away something he’d regret.

"This money could be invested into something that will bring you wealth, Raymond," she whispered again. "It could change our future. This isn’t worth it."

She tugged at his sleeve, pleading. "Let’s just go."

At that moment Raymond turned to Valentina, his expression steady, his voice unwavering.

"Like I said before, i made a promise, Valentina." His hand tightened over hers, firm yet gentle. "To your mother, to myself—to give you the best. To give you everything you deserve."

His words carried weight, not just because of what he was saying, but because of the certainty in his tone. He wasn’t just trying to reassure her—he meant every single word.

Valentina’s lips parted, but she hesitated. She wanted to argue, to tell him this wasn’t the way, but at the same time, from the little time she had knew Raymond. He wasn’t reckless. He wasn’t the type to act without reason.

Even so, she wasn’t convinced. Thirty-five million was not a small amount.

Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, a silent plea.

"Raymond, please... Just stop."

The hushed intensity in her voice, the way her eyes locked onto his, should have been enough to make him reconsider. But Raymond only smiled, his thumb brushing against her knuckles as if to calm her.

At that moment the room had begun to take notice. Their quiet exchange, Valentina’s hand clinging to his, the look of urgency on her face—it was drawing attention.

Valentina felt the weight of gazes shifting toward them.

She didn’t want to cause a scene. She wasn’t the type to embarrass her husband, to make a spectacle.

But she also couldn’t just let him do this.

Her voice dropped lower, desperate but controlled.

"Raymond... please."

She held onto him, her grip firm, but deep down, she knew.

Raymond had already made up his mind.