CHAPTER 204: CHAPTER 204

Valentina lay back against the pillows, her skin still slightly clammy, but the worst had passed. Or so it seemed.

She watched Raymond quietly as he moved around the room — adjusting the lighting, pouring a glass of water, checking the antique cabinet where the ancient antibiotics were kept. His movements were calm, methodical... but his face told another story entirely. Beneath the surface, she could feel it — the intensity, the storm, the worry that he wouldn’t say out loud.

She managed a faint smile, her voice hoarse but steady. "Raymond... how are you going to keep a close eye on me when you have so much going on? The company... the family business... all of it. You can’t be in two places at once."

Raymond turned and met her eyes. For a moment, he didn’t speak. Then, he slowly stepped closer and placed the glass of water in her hand.

"You’re my priority," he said quietly. "Everything else can wait."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a hand.

"I don’t care what meetings are scheduled. I don’t care what partnerships are at stake. What just happened to you—" his voice dropped lower, heavier "—was not a coincidence."

Valentina lowered her eyes slightly, her fingers tightening around the glass.

She inhaled shakily. "Maybe... maybe it’s just the stress. When I was running everything by myself at Sterling, I pushed too hard. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I felt like I was being pulled in every direction. Maybe that’s why the headache came. Maybe it was just my body... breaking down."

Raymond didn’t answer immediately. He crouched in front of her, resting one arm on the bed’s edge, looking up into her face like he was reading between every word she said.

"Valentina," he said, his voice low but sharp with certainty, "never say that again."

She looked at him, startled.

"I’m not going to let you dismiss this," he continued. "You said yourself — the pain came like a wave. Instant. Overpowering. And then it disappeared before returning again."

He shook his head slowly.

"No stress-induced breakdown does that. And more importantly... no ordinary headache would resist that antibiotic and still leave traces behind."

His fingers gently brushed the back of her hand. "This wasn’t your fault. This wasn’t weakness. This was something else. And I’m not taking any chances with your life."

His tone was final.

Firm.

Because deep down, they both knew: this wasn’t over.

The fact that the serum hadn’t completely wiped out whatever was attacking Valentina’s system... that said everything.

To Raymond, it confirmed a terrifying truth—this wasn’t ordinary. This wasn’t natural. This was designed.

It meant someone was behind it.

Someone powerful enough to cloak their signature. Someone smart enough to use methods even centuries-old medicine struggled to neutralize. And if someone like that had taken an interest in Valentina, then the danger wasn’t just personal—it was ancient.

Raymond stood in the quiet of the room, his back straight, eyes locked on the antique cabinet now shut tight. His mind was running, calculating, reaching back into memories and names long buried in dust.

Then a thought slammed into him with a force that made his brow shoot up.

Rebecca.

The name alone sent a chill down his spine.

He hadn’t spoken it in years—not out loud, not even in memory. She had vanished long ago, but he never once believed she was truly gone. Rebecca was a storm. The kind that disappears over the horizon only to gather in secret and strike when least expected.

And now, with what just happened to Valentina, his instincts screamed that she might be near. Too near.

Raymond’s fingers slowly clenched into a fist.

Could Rebecca be behind this?

They hadn’t been able to pinpoint her for decades. She was the only one among them who had severed herself completely from their bloodline, vanishing into the shadows without a trace. But she wasn’t weak. Far from it. If she wanted Valentina hurt... or worse... she had the knowledge and skill to do it without leaving fingerprints.

And that’s what made it worse, the silence, the mystery.

What if Rebecca never left? What if she’s been circling Valentina this entire time disguised, watching, waiting?

A deep frown carved across Raymond’s face, he had no proof. But his gut had never failed him.

Rebecca... might still be alive, and far closer than he ever imagined.

He stared out the window, his expression hardening with quiet resolve, his was no longer just about protecting Valentina.

This was about uncovering a buried war. One that might have begun long before Valentina’s first breath—and was now slowly rising to the surface.

A storm was coming, And he was going to be ready for it.

At that moment, Raymond gently guided Valentina into their room, his arm firmly wrapped around her waist as if he feared that letting go for even a second would allow something—or someone—to snatch her away. She leaned into him, her body light, drained, and quietly aching. He didn’t say a word as he pulled back the covers and helped her lie down, adjusting the pillows beneath her head with delicate care.

His expression never softened, Not once.

There was too much fire behind his eyes. Too much suspicion clinging to his thoughts. He stood by the bed for a long while, arms crossed, watching her as her eyes fluttered closed, her breathing beginning to slow. But his heart didn’t ease.

This wasn’t just fatigue. This wasn’t just exhaustion. Something had touched her—and it hadn’t left a mark, but it had left a message.

He turned away from the bed and pulled out his phone.

With a sharp swipe, he dialed Benjamin.

The line picked up instantly.

"Raymond," Benjamin’s voice came through steady and alert.

"She’s down," Raymond said coldly. "She’s resting now."

Benjamin paused. "Is it that serious?"

Raymond’s jaw tightened. "It’s worse than serious. I don’t know what hit her, but it wasn’t just stress. It wasn’t physical. It was designed."

Benjamin exhaled on the other end. "What do you need me to do?"

"Take over Sterling Design," Raymond replied. "Immediately. Until I say otherwise. Valentina won’t be showing up for a while."

"Understood," Benjamin said without hesitation. "I’ll handle everything from this end."

Raymond ended the call without another word.

He stood still for a moment, staring at the floor, then slowly lowered the phone to the nightstand.

His hands curled into fists at his sides.

He hated not having answers.

He hated feeling a step behind.

But one thing was certain—whoever had done this to Valentina had just made the biggest mistake of their lives.

Because he was going to find out what happened, and when he did...he would burn the truth out of whoever was hiding it.

The three members of the Circle stood silently in the black SUV parked just a short distance from Sterling Design. The engine was off. The tinted windows veiled their presence from the world outside, but inside, the tension was suffocating.

They had been there for hours, Watching, Waiting.

The plan had been simple—grab Valentina the moment she stepped out of the building. Teach her a lesson that would echo far beyond the city. But the building remained cold and still. Employees had come and gone, unaware of the danger sitting in their midst, but Valentina... she never showed.

The youngest of the three shifted in his seat, agitated. "Something’s not right," he muttered. "She’s supposed to be here by now."

The one seated in the driver’s seat—the broadest of them, his face marked with a faint scar that ran from his brow to his jaw—didn’t respond immediately. He stared forward, his fingers tapping the steering wheel in measured rhythm.

"She’s not coming," he said finally, his voice low and grating with restrained fury. "She’s not here."

The third man, older, with silver at his temples and a calm menace in his eyes, turned from the passenger seat.

"Then we go to her home."

The others looked at him.

"She’s not at work? Fine. She’s resting, then. Healing. Hiding. Whatever she’s doing, it won’t matter," he said with finality. "She’s not escaping this."

The man with the scar nodded. "And anyone we find there... they bleed with her."

A slow, heavy silence fell over the car before the engine growled to life. The SUV pulled away from the curb like a predator abandoning its blind and shifting toward the next hunting ground.

Valentina had eluded them once today.

There wouldn’t be a second time.

At that moment, they left.

Not long after the dark vehicle pulled up to the edge of Raymond’s estate, the three members of the Circle stepped out one after another, their eyes scanning the grand structure in front of them. The sun had just begun its descent, casting long shadows across the manicured lawns and the gleaming stone walls of the mansion. Everything looked pristine—too pristine.

"This is it?" the youngest muttered under his breath, slightly squinting. "It looks like a palace."

The eldest nodded slowly, his sharp eyes narrowing. "Yes... but look around. No guards. No security cameras. Not even a dog barking."

"Too quiet," the third one said, his hand instinctively drifting toward the weapon hidden under his coat. "Places like this are never truly quiet."