Vengeance in His Bed novel Chapter 187

Chapter 187: Grandkids, Of Course

The light of dawn had barely begun to filter through the glass of the Grefo estate when the doors of the wing creaked open.

Shadron Valerius stood near the exit, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his fingers tapping a frantic, anxious rhythm against his sleeve. His face was pale, his eyes wide and bloodshot from a total lack of sleep. Every few seconds, his gaze would dart toward the hallway, his mind reeling from the absolute insanity of the mission ahead. They were going into the slums. They were going back into the bogs to dig up a nine-year-old ghost—to find out if the towering tycoon standing next to him was truly the monster who had butchered Jannah’s parents.

Dorrent stood perfectly rigid beside him, adjusting the gold links of his cuffs with a slow deliberate precision. His broad chest heaved with a slow, measured breath, the white fabric of his shirt straining against the massive topography of his muscles. His eyes were unreadable—but the sharp clenching of his jaw betrayed the unhinged obsession tearing through him. He didn’t care about the danger of the bogs. He didn’t care about the multi-billion-credit empire waiting for his signature. His entire universe had narrowed down to the fragile, shivering girl who was currently walking down the steps behind him.

Jannah moved down the staircase with a slow, rigid gait, her posture stiff as she tried to protect her ravaged body from the friction of her movements. Her face was pale, her dark hair falling in tangled, damp waves over her shoulders, but her eyes overflowing with hatred—never broke contact with the back of Dorrent’s head. The mark on her neck was fully visible, a blistering brand that seemed to actively pulse against her skin, radiating the terrifying reality of their permanent biological lock.

"The grid handlers and the tactical units are already stationed at the perimeter of the lower sectors," Shadron muttered, his voice dropping into a low, tense whisper as he stepped closer to Dorrent. "But I’m telling you again, Dorrent... this is absolute madness. Going down there to investigate a nine-year-old slaughter while the city handles the Moscow fallout? You are walking straight into a slaughterhouse."

"We are going," Dorrent delivered flatly. He didn’t turn around to look at Jannah, but his nostrils flared, tracking the faint, intoxicating scent of her omega nectar as she reached the bottom step. "The truth has to be laid bare. I need to know exactly whose blood is on these hands."

"Then you should start by looking at the blood you’re about to spill today!" a sharp, freezing voice shrieked from the upper landing.

The sound of heels shattered the silence of the foyer as Himelda Grefo marched down the corridor. The matriarch of the house looked unraveled; her elegant composure was completely gone, her eyes rimmed with a furious red as her dressing gown whipped around her ankles. Behind her, Guron’s towering frame cut through the shadows, his face carved into a hard line as he followed his wife’s frantic steps.

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