Chapter 130. The Serpent’s Blood

Chapter 130. The Serpent’s Blood
Vera froze.
The car’s headlights cut through the misty road ahead, but inside, the silence was suffocating.
Raymond was still breathing weakly beside her, but her attention was on Leon—the boy whose
voice had just split her entire world in two.
She stared at him. “What did you say?”
Leon met her gaze, calm and unblinking. “You heard me. Elias Grant is your grandfather.

For a long moment, Vera couldn’t speak. The world seemed to tilt sideways. All the threads she
had tried to untangle—the betrayals, the lies, the legacy—suddenly twisted into something
darker and deeper.
She shook her head. “That’s not possible. He—he’s dead.”
Leon tilted his head slightly. “That’s what they wanted you to think. But he never died, Mrs.
Andres. He just disappeared—because your father made it happen.”
“Gregory?”
“Yes. Elias Grant was his father. And yours by blood.”
The words hung in the air like smoke. Raymond coughed softly, his voice barely a whisper.
“Vera… don’t listen to him.”
But she couldn’t stop. Her mind was spinning. “If what you’re saying is true,” she said slowly,
“then Gregory’s entire empire—Andres Corporation, the network, the offshore accounts—they
all came from Elias.”
Leon nodded. “The serpent’s blood runs through all of you. And it’s waking up again.”
Vera frowned. “What do you mean, waking up?”
Leon leaned closer, his young voice cold and deliberate. “Elias never built his empire alone. He
built it with others—people who believed the world should be controlled by those born strong
enough to shape it. They called themselves The Circle.”
The name felt familiar. She had seen it before—scribbled in the margins of Gregory’s private
notes, carved faintly on the underside of his desk.
Leon continued, “The Circle had seven seats. Your father took one when Elias vanished. But
now, Elias wants it back. And he wants you, Vera—to finish what he started.”
Vera stared at him, horrified. “You think I’d join them?”
Leon’s gaze softened, almost pitying. “You don’t have a choice. You carry their blood.”
⸻
When they reached the city, Vera took Raymond straight to a private clinic on the outskirts of
town. She refused the help of the police. She didn’t trust anyone anymore—not after what had
happened at the hospital.
The doctor worked quietly for hours. Vera sat in the hallway, her body still trembling from
exhaustion and fear.
Leon sat across from her, his small hands folded neatly in his lap. He didn’t look scared, just…
waiting.
Finally, Vera spoke. “Who sent you, Leon?”
He looked up. “No one sends me. I was born for this.”
Her chest tightened. “What are you talking about?”
He hesitated. “Gregory adopted me when I was five. I was supposed to be your replacement.”
Vera blinked. “Replacement?”
“He wanted a child who would obey. Someone who wouldn’t question him. But when he found
out about you—about who your mother was—he decided to train me instead. To watch you. To
protect you.”
“Protect me?” she whispered bitterly. “By delivering messages that nearly get me killed?”
Leon didn’t flinch. “If I hadn’t, you’d already be dead. Gregory didn’t want Elias to find you, but
now it’s too late. He knows where you are. He knows about the baby.”
Vera’s heart stopped. “What baby?”
Leon’s eyes flickered down to her belly. “Yours.”
Vera’s breath caught. “How—”
“I can hear the heartbeat,” he said softly. “It’s faint. But it’s there.”
Her hand instinctively went to her stomach. A strange, trembling warmth filled her chest. It had
only been weeks since she’d suspected, but hearing it aloud made it real.
She swallowed hard. “You said Elias wants me. What does he want with my child?”
Leon’s expression darkened. “The Circle believes in inheritance by blood. They think the
firstborn of every generation carries a power—something that binds them to the others. If Elias
gets to your child, he’ll control more than just the empire. He’ll control the future.”
Vera stared at him in horror. “Then I’ll die before I let that happen.
Leon nodded slowly. “Then you’ll have to kill him first.”
⸻
Raymond woke later that night. His voice was weak, but his grip on her hand was strong.
“Vera… what happened?”
She told him everything—about Gregory, about Elias, about The Circle. When she finished,
Raymond was silent for a long time.
Finally, he said, “Then we’re not just fighting your family anymore. We’re fighting something
ancient.”
Vera nodded. “And it’s not just about money or power now. It’s about blood.”
He sat up slowly, wincing. “We’ll find him. We’ll stop him.”
Her voice cracked. “He’s my grandfather, Ray. What if there’s a part of me that’s like him?”
Raymond looked at her, eyes tired but full of love. “Then that part of you is the part we’ll burn
away together.”
⸻
Three days later, Vera stood in front of the mirror in her office, staring at her reflection. She
looked different—colder, sharper. The woman who once fought to survive had become someone
else entirely.
Leon had been right about one thing: the bloodline mattered. If The Circle wanted her because
of it, she’d use it against them.
She picked up her phone. “Get me Marcus,” she said.
An hour later, Marcus arrived, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. “I heard what happened. You
okay?”
“No,” she said simply. “But I will be.”
He sat down across from her. “So, what’s the plan?”
Vera leaned forward. “We hunt Elias. And we destroy whatever’s left of The Circle.”
Marcus frowned. “You can’t go against them alone. They control everything—banks,
governments, media. You’d need an army
“Then I’ll build one.”
Leon stepped out of the shadows behind her, silent as ever. Marcus blinked in surprise. “Who
the hell is the kid?”
“My ally,” Vera said.
Leon smiled faintly. “You can call me the messenger.”
Marcus groaned. “This is insane.”
“Maybe,” Vera said, standing. “But if we don’t stop them, they’ll come for us. For our children.
For everyone tied to the Andres name.”
Her voice didn’t shake this time. She was done being afraid.
⸻
That night, Vera couldn’t sleep. She walked out onto the balcony, the cold wind whipping her
hair across her face.
Down below, the city glittered—beautiful, dangerous, alive.
Raymond joined her quietly, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. “You should be resting.”
She leaned into him. “I can’t. Every time I close my eyes, I see his face.”
“Elias?”
She nodded. “He’s out there somewhere, watching. Waiting.”
Raymond’s hand found hers. “Then let him watch. We’ll show him what survival looks like.”
Vera smiled faintly, tears in her eyes. “Do you still believe in us?”
He kissed her forehead. “Always.”
For the first time in weeks, she let herself breathe. The storm was coming—but this time, she
wouldn’t face it alone.
⸻
Three days later, Marcus burst into her office, pale and shaken. “Vera—you need to see this.

He placed a newspaper on her desk. The headline screamed across the page:
“Elias Grant: Billionaire Philanthropist Returns from the Dead.”
Her blood ran cold.
Below the headline was a photograph—an older man, silver-haired, eyes cold and familiar.
Leon leaned over her shoulder, whispering, “Told you.”
Vera’s knees nearly gave out. “He’s real.”
“Yes,” Leon said. “And he’s coming.”
⸻
Later that evening, the news showed a press conference. Elias stood before the cameras, his
voice smooth and commanding.
“Power,” he said, “should not be inherited by the weak. It must be earned through sacrifice. The
world has fallen because people forgot that truth. I am here to restore it.”
Reporters shouted questions. He smiled faintly. “My granddaughter will join me soon. The
Andres name belongs to me.”
Vera’s heart pounded. She turned off the TV.
Raymond stared at her. “What are you going to do?”
She looked at him with fire in her eyes. “I’m going to remind him that I’m not his heir.”
Raymond frowned. “Then what are you?”
She picked up Gregory’s old gun from the table, her reflection cold and certain in the glass.
“The end of his bloodline.”