Chapter 116: Bloodlines

The morning light did nothing to chase the shadow before the night. Vera sat on the edge of her bed, still a crumpled message on her phone screen. Raymond did not talk much after receiving his copy of the danger. He had silence, the way he had no rest, but was tight as the glass was waiting for the glass to be shattered.

Now she was alone, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes looked big, looked heavy, as she carved every mystery on her face. He pressed his hand against his stomach and whispered, "Hold for me, a little one. I will fight for you."

A knock at the door broke his thoughts. One of the maids peeped out. "Madam, someone here is to see you. She says it is necessary."

Vera provoked. "Who?"

The maid hesitates, almost afraid. "Miss Juliet."

Vera's blood cooled down.

She was standing, pulling her rebels tight. "Bring him into study. And send it to Raymond - Quintley."

When Vera entered the study, Juliet was already there, bending against the window with an elegance that was felt. She wore a cream silk blouse and black slack, her hair was neatly pinned, her lips painted the color of fresh blood.

"Good morning," Juliet said, his voice smooth as glass. "Or should I say ... interesting morning?"

Vera did not bother by hiding her hatred. "Why are you here?"

Juliet was slowly turned, his eyes were shining. "Because you need me, whether you accept it or not."

Before Vera could respond, Raymond wheel the wheel in the room. His jaw tightened the moment he had seen Juliet, holding his hands as if he wanted to jump out and strangle him.

"You don't welcome here," he said.

Juliet smiled thin. "And yet I am here. You should hear me before throwing me out. It worries about the truth about this child that both of you are so protective."

Vera's pulse jumped. He spontaneously placed his hand on his stomach. "What are you talking about?"

Juliet went closer, clicking slowly against her heel floor. He set a thin folder on the table. "I took the freedom to order DNA testing. You may not like what it says, but it will save both of you from lying."

Vera's breath was caught. Raymond's eyes widened.

"What are you?" Vera whispered.

Juliet closely slid the folder with a delicate finger. "The child you are carrying - this is not from Raymond. It is from Francis."

The words cut through the air like a blade. Vera's feet were almost excluded. "That's a lie."

Raymond's hands tremble on the wheels of his chair, suffering on his face. "You're lying."

Juliet bowed his head, his smile was cruel. "Look for yourself."

Vera's hands were shaken as soon as the folder opened. Inside was a sheet of paper with a laboratory seal. The result claimed a ninety -nine percent of the match between Francis and the unborn child. Raymond was named out.

The room rotates. Vera pressed one hand on the desk to stabilize herself. He remembered that Francis had drugged him, the subsequent bad dreams, thinking that the child he took, he could be touched by the shadow of that demon. But he had buried that fear deeply, assured that what grew inside him was of love, not violence.

Now Juliet had separated that hope.

Raymond's voice burst. "Vera ... is it true?"

His heart broke in his eyes- Fear, pain, betrayal. He shook his head fiercely. "No, Raymond, does not believe it. Francis hurt me, yes, but this child - it is ours. It should be."

Juliet smiled, satisfied with the damage she was producing. "The refusal is a beautiful shade on you, Vera. But science is not a lie."

Vera closed the folder. "And neither manipulates. You have forged it."

Juliet raised an eyebrow. "If you are so certain, why not take another exam? Independent, at this time. Until you are afraid of the truth."

Raymond turned back, away from both of them. His shoulders were slightly shaken. Vera kneeled near her chair and reached her. "Raymond, listen to me. She is trying to separate us. That's what she wants."

When he looked at him, his eyes were tested. "But what if he is right, Vera? What if I am fighting to protect a child that is not mine?"

His throat tightened. She wanted to shout, to tear Juliet with her bare hand, but instead she held Raymond's hand. "Even though Francis touched the blood of this child, it doesn't matter. You are a father. You are fighting for us. You are one you like."

Raymond saw him, torn between faith and disappointment.

Juliet saw with cold entertainment. "To touch. But love did not change the bloodlines. Francis's legacy lives in that child, and when the time comes, the world will know it."

Vera arose on her feet, fury ignited inside her. "Go."

Growed close to Juliet, whispering like poison. "You cannot hide from blood. It always rises on the surface."

Then she left, her perfume like smoke after a fire in the air.

With the door closed, silence swallowed the room. Vera turned to Raymond, her heart was hurting.

"Don't listen to him," he pleaded. "She made that test. She is trying to destroy us."

Raymond covered his face with his hands. "I want to believe in you, Vera. I do. But what will happen ..." his voice broke. "What if that's right?"

Vera wrapped her arms around her, shedding tears. "Then it doesn't matter. This child will never be Francis. Not in the soul, not in love. This is our, Raymond."

He clung to him, trembling. For a long time, neither talked. The only sound was the ragged rhythm of his breath.

After that evening, Vera was sitting alone in the nursery, he started preparing. A soft cradle was standing through the window, its yellow blankets untouched. She drowned on the rocking chair, pressing the weight of Juliet's words on her.

His hand snatched his stomach. "Don't listen to him," he whispered to the child. "You are mine. You are ours. I will fight someone who tries to take it away."

But deep inside, a piece of doubt focused on it. He remembered Francis's joke smile, the way he made promises of bloodlines and . Can Juliet tell the truth?

The idea made him more frightened by any danger.

The next day, Vera arranged a personal appointment with a reliable doctor outside the city. He did not tell Raymond - he was very delicate, and was deeply injured by suspicion. She wanted to bring her evidence, undisputed and pure.

The clinic was cool, its walls painted a soft white. The doctor, a woman, had known Vara from childhood, took the samples carefully and promised Vivek.

"You will have results in a week," the doctor said softly.

Vera nodded her head, grabbed her hands tightly. "Please. This means everything."

As soon as he left the clinic, a black car was surrounded by the road. He realized that his neck grows hair. Juliet's words echo again- "We are already ahead."

Was he being seen?

He intensified his steps, harassing his scarf. The car did not run, but she could feel unseen eyes.

Back home, Raymond was waiting in the study, pulling his face. "Where were you?"

She used to hesitate, then told her the truth. "I went to a clinic. For another test. To prove Juliet wrong."

His eyes became soft, although the pain got nervous. "You should not have gone alone."

"I had to do it," he whispered. "For us."

He arrived for his hand. "Then we wait together."

For the first time in days, they caught each other without any talk. No words could calm the storm inside them, but at least they were not alone in it.

That night, Vera dreamed of Francis. His laughter echoed through deep corridors, his face shifted between shadow and flame. He grabbed a child in his arms, his eyes shining with a brutal victory.

"This is mine," he said. "You can never take him from me."

Vera woke with a scream, sweat drenching her skin. Raymond rushed to her side, holding her as she sobbed.

“It’s just a dream,” he whispered, though his own hands shook.

But Vera knew it was more than a dream. It was a warning.

A week later, the results arrived. Vera clutched the envelope as if it were a lifeline. Raymond sat beside her, pale but steady.

“Open it,” he said quietly.

Her hands shook as she tore the seal. The paper unfolded slowly, the words blurring for a moment before coming into focus.

Her breath caught. Tears filled her eyes.

The result was clear: the child was Raymond’s. Not Francis’s.

She pressed the paper to her chest, sobbing with relief. “It’s ours, Raymond. It’s really ours.”

Raymond’s face crumpled as tears slid down his cheeks. He pulled her into his arms, holding her as if he’d never let go.

But just as relief washed over them, Vera’s phone buzzed. A new message lit up the screen.

“Enjoy your little victory. It will be your last.”

Her joy turned to ice.

The war wasn’t over. It had only begun.