Chapter 115: Brave account

He looked away, eyes were dark. "He is not here only to claim heritage. He is here to destroy you, Vera."

She reached her hands with resting her hand. "Not only me. We. Child."

Silence hung heavy between them for a moment. Raymond then pulled his hand back, digging in his rebellion's pocket. He handed over his phone with fingers trembling.

"When you were digging," he said softly, "someone is digging on us too. I saw it an hour ago."

Vera took the phone. The screen shines, showing a message that cooled her blood.

"Your wife will die before the child's birth."

His heart jumped. His hands were so violently shaken that he almost dropped the phone. "Who sent it?"

Raymond said, "There is no name. There is just a blocked number." His voice was low, almost broken. "They know. They know that you are pregnant."

Vera pressed her hand against her stomach, such as to mold the small life inside. Fear cooked around his neck. It was no longer the empire at stake - it was blood, meat, her child's first heartbeat.

He turned fast, pace the room. "We cannot trust anyone, Raymond. Not a board, not even a guard. Whoever planted that bomb in the car had access to my schedule. They knew where I was."

Raymond identified his voice firm closely. "So what should we do?"

She stopped, getting her eyes. "We start our investigation. Secretly. No one can know, not even our closest people."

Raymond hesitated, then slowly nodded his head. "Agree. But Vera ..." her voice broke a little. "Promise me that you will be careful. Promise me that you did not face it alone."

He kneeled next to him, grabbed his hands. "I promise. But you have to live for me. For the child."

His eyes became soft, but his grip was terrible. "I will do it. Even if it kills me, I will protect both of you."

The intensity of his words broke him, burning his eyes. He pressed his forehead in his hand, swallowed a sob.

That night, Vera remained at the desk, long after returning over Raymond. He mapped every account that he found, every shadow company was created by Francis. Like a spider web is entangled on the entire page. The center did not have only Francis - it was Juliet, feeding and pulling from the network.

But something else caught his eye. A set of recent transfers - moving forward only weeks in advance. And the name tied to him was not Juliet. It was a board member by Vera.

His breath stopped. He was close to betrayal.

The next morning, Vera wore silent clothes. She did not tell Raymond that she was going. Instead, she slipped into a plain coat and dupatta, combining with the city. His driver was not with him; She could not put another bomb at risk. She went alone, ignoring the cold air sting against her cheeks.

His destination was an old warehouse city, one of the old fronts in Francis. It was listed in accounts. He pushed the heavy door open, the smell of mold and oil that fills her lungs. Inside there were dusty boxes, broken furniture and piles of silence.

He dug until he found a metal cabinet. Its lock was rushed, but he opened it with enough force. There were files, an old laser, even some pictures. He scanned quickly, his pulse racing.

Half page detailed arms deals, bribe, blackmail. The other half showed payment for familiar names -Poticians, judges, even lawyers were hired once. And again, Juliet's name was there, which was associated with money that gave him a lot of reach.

Then something new - an envelope which is marked with the name of Raymond.

He tightened Vera's chest as soon as he opened it. Inside, there was a picture of Raymond Zanjeer in the jail where Francis once caught him. But the photo was not old. The rear date was recently. a lot lately.

His stomach fell. If Francis had gone, who staged? Was anyone re -creating their cruelty?

Her phone rose before she could think further. A new message appeared.

"You are too late. You take every step, we are already ahead. The house, Vera, Vera before joining the dead."

Cut her knees, but she forced himself to stay straight. He shook the files in his bag, the heart of the heart. Whoever sent the message knew where he was.

She ran out of the warehouse, fogging in her breath. The roads looked very calm, every corner was very fast. He felt his eyes on him, but when he turned, there was no one.

When she returned home, Raymond was waiting. He saw nervousness on his face and immediately moved towards him.

"What happened?"

Vera dropped the bag on the table. "They know, Raymond. They are following me. They know everything. These files - they are proof that Francis's empire never died. And Juliet ... she is feeding it."

Flipped through Raymond pages, her eyes became dark with every line. "This is enough to bring half the board down."

"But not all," Vera whispered. His voice was torn. "There is more. Someone inside our circle is helping them. One of the people we trust."

Raymond saw, expression is unable. "Do you know who?"

Vera hesitated, cutting her lips. She wanted to tell her the name she saw with accounts. But he is not yet, not until he has evidence.

"Not yet," he whispered. "but I will."

Raymond bent back to his chair, tired. He rubbed his temple, then looked at him with a calm frustration. "I no longer care about the empire, Vera. I care about you. If they come to you-"

She cut him off, pressing a hand to his cheek. “Don’t say that. We can’t give in to fear. If we run, we lose everything. If we fight, at least we have a chance.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “Then we fight.”

Vera nodded, though inside her chest, fear clawed mercilessly.

That night, long after Raymond had fallen asleep, Vera sat awake again. She read through the files, her fingers trembling as she traced the ink of her grandfather’s old signature. Secrets, betrayals, money trails, it was all here.

But then she found something else. A single sheet tucked behind the ledgers. A list of names marked “targets.” Her name was there. Raymond’s name. And beneath them, a chilling note:

“A child must not be born.”

Vera dropped the paper as if it burned her. Her stomach clenched, and for the first time, she truly felt death hovering over her unborn child.

She pressed a hand to her belly, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I won’t let them take you. I swear it.”

But in the silence of the night, her phone buzzed again. She picked it up, her heart frozen in terror.

The message was short.

“Your time is almost over.”

Her throat closed. Her vision blurred. The shadows in the room seemed to move closer, tighter.

And upstairs, Raymond’s phone lit up at the same time with the same message.

Two warnings. Two threats. One promise of blood.