So without wasting any more ti, Remote gently urged her, "Go take your bath. Relax a little. I’ll be here."
And she obeyed. Without asking further questions or resisting. She slowly walked to the bathroom, closed the door behind her, and let the water fall over her skin. It was warm. Soothing. But even the comfort of the water couldn’t quiet her mind. There was a strange feeling growing inside her. Like sothing was hiding just beneath her ribs, pressing upward, like a scream she couldn’t let out.
When she finished, she stepped out slowly, wrapped herself in a towel, dressed, and quietly returned to the living room. She didn’t say much. She didn’t need to. She just sat down and folded her arms over her lap.
And then, it ca.
A strong, throbbing headache that made her grip the sides of her head. It wasn’t like before. This one was severe. Piercing. As if sothing inside her skull was pounding to be let out.
But she didn’t scream. She didn’t cry. She simply closed her eyes and focused on calming herself. She breathed in slowly and exhaled even slower. She curled her toes. She pressed her lips together. Anything not to make a sound. Anything not to let Remote worry again.
And this ti, she just managed to get her cooled because she doesn’t want very much to be worried.
at that mont, Raymond noticed it—the slight wince on Valentina’s face, the way her hands subtly pressed against her temples as though trying to keep her head from splitting in two. He saw the way her shoulders tensed, the way she bit her lower lip to hide the pain. She thought she was hiding it well, but to soone like him—soone who had watched over her for so long—it was obvious.
Still, he didn’t say anything.
He just stood up, slowly, his hands balled into fists at his sides. His jaw was clenched tight, and his brows were furrowed. There was a storm brewing behind his eyes, one he refused to unleash in front of her. He didn’t want to worry her further. He didn’t want her to see just how deeply this was affecting him. So he swallowed the words burning in his throat and forced himself to speak with forced calm.
"I’ll be right back," he said quietly. "Just take pity on for a second, Valentina—I’m coming. Benjamin will be here soon to take care of you."
His voice was thick, and she could tell he was holding sothing back, sothing he didn’t want to say aloud. The way he looked at her, the way his eyes lingered for just a second too long—it told her more than his words did. It told her he was scared. Angry. Desperate.
Valentina opened her mouth to say sothing, anything, but the words refused to co out. Her throat tightened, and for a brief mont, she felt helpless. She wanted to ask him where he was going. She wanted to tell him to stay. But all she could do was stare at him, her lips parted, her body frozen in that soft, aching silence.
And then Remote turned his back on her and walked away.
Not slowly. Not gently. He walked away with heavy, furious steps that echoed through the room like thunder. His anger was quiet—but it was powerful. It wasn’t rage that exploded. It was the kind that simred beneath the surface, cold and calculating, growing hotter by the second.
He didn’t slam the door, but the silence that followed was just as loud.
And make no mistake—he wasn’t walking away because he was giving up. He was walking away because he needed answers. Real answers. He needed to know why this was happening, what had gone wrong, and who was hiding the truth from him.
Because whatever this was... it wasn’t just stress. It wasn’t just fatigue. It was sothing deeper, sothing darker, and he knew it now more than ever.
So when Remote walked away angrily, which you should listen to, Remote was going straight to Maria’s house. Because he really wanted to know what happened, what was going on.
If it was Maria and Luca behind this—if they truly had anything to do with what was happening to Valentina—then Remote wasn’t going to sit still and watch it unfold. No. He had seen enough. Felt enough. And he had reached his breaking point.
They might have thought they were being clever, hiding in the shadows, spinning quiet webs behind her back. But what they didn’t know—what they never truly understood—was that Valentina wasn’t just soone he was assigned to protect. She wasn’t just a na or a job. She was the only reason he had restrained himself all this while. The only reason he hadn’t already torn apart every lie, every cover-up, and every person behind her suffering.
But now?
Now the ga had changed.
If Maria and Luca were really involved—if they had plotted sothing so twisted, so dangerous—it would be a mistake they would regret for the rest of their lives. Remote had no intention of waiting for evidence to fall into his lap. He was going to find it, rip it out from where it was buried, and expose the truth for what it was. Even if he had to burn down every wall and silence every voice that stood in his way.
He was done watching Valentina suffer while snakes smiled at her from across the room.
"I swear," Remote muttered under his breath, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter as he drove like a man possessed, "If they laid a finger on her future, on her peace... I’ll make sure they pay."
He wasn’t afraid of confrontation. Not anymore. If the bull had to be grabbed by the horn, then so be it—he would drag it to the ground himself. He wasn’t going to walk on eggshells, and he definitely wasn’t going to beg anyone to tell the truth.
If they refused to talk, he would destroy everything. He would pull apart every lie, dismantle every sche, and tear down whatever they built until the truth stood naked in the middle of the wreckage. That was a promise.
And he didn’t care what it cost him.
Not long after Raymond finally arrives at his destination.
And when he got there, he imdiately bashed it to the house.
When Raymond arrived, he didn’t hesitate—not even for a second. The tires of his car screeched slightly as he pulled up in front of Maria’s house, his footsteps were heavy, his face stone-cold. His eyes burned with a fury he hadn’t felt in a long ti. This wasn’t just a visit—this was war.
He stord up to the door and pushed it open with such force it flew back and slamd into the wall behind it. He didn’t care. He was done being polite. Done waiting. Done pretending like everything wasn’t crumbling right in front of his eyes.
But as he stepped into the house, he paused.
Silence.
The house was quiet. Too quiet. Not even the sound of a television humming in the background. No footsteps. No conversation. No dishes clinking from the kitchen. It was just... still.
Raymond’s heart pounded harder. Not from fear—but from rising anger.
He had expected shouting. He had expected to see Maria’s face twist in guilt. He had hoped to find Luca pacing around nervously or even Valentina’s father trying to put on so old-man charm to deflect the issue.
But the house was empty.
No one.
That was strange. That was suspicious.
He stepped forward slowly, his eyes scanning every corner, every room. The living room was untouched. Not a single sign of soone being there recently. A few picture fras stood neatly on the side table. The air slled faintly of fresh flowers and a hint of cleaning chemicals. It wasn’t abandoned—but it wasn’t lived in either.
And that’s when it hit him.
Like a wave crashing into his chest.
The realization.
It was Maria. She was the only one who had the access, the motive, and the cold heart to do sothing this calculated, this cruel. And if Luca had been helping her—if Valentina’s own father had stood by in silence—then they were just as guilty. Just as wicked.
Raymond clenched his jaw so tight it hurt. "You did this," he whispered under his breath, speaking to Maria even though she wasn’t there. "You planned all of this. You made her suffer."
His fingers curled into fists.
"You think you’re going to walk away from this?" he muttered, louder now, pacing the room slowly. "You think I’m going to let you off, like before? Not this ti. You touched the wrong person. You hurt the wrong woman. You made her cry, made her break down. And now... now I’m going to break everything you ever cared about."
Raymond took another look around. Still no sign of movent. Not even the creak of a door. But he wasn’t going to leave. No, he was going to wait. Wait right there. Because one of them—Maria, Luca, or even that old man—one of them would co ho eventually.
And when they did, he would be waiting.
So he decided to wait. Definitely one of them would definitely co et him here.
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