My Husband Is a Million Years Old Vampire-Chapter 65

The air in the hall was thick with tension. The laughter and taunts still echoed, but the moment Raymond rose from his seat, a hush followed.

He wasn’t rushed. He wasn’t panicked.

Instead, he moved with measured composure, straightening his suit before placing one hand casually into his pocket.

The shift was subtle, but immediate.

The way he carried himself—calm, deliberate, entirely unshaken—made the people around him pause.

Even Damien, who had been grinning with arrogance moments ago, stiffened slightly.

At that moment Valentina’s curiosity deepened.

She could feel the shift.

The control was slipping from Damien’s grasp, and Raymond hadn’t even spoken yet.

Finally, Raymond turned to face him.

He didn’t need to raise his voice. His words were measured, sharp, carrying enough weight to slice through the tension in the room.

"You talk too much, Damien."

Immediately a murmur swept through the crowd.

Damien blinked. The casual dismissal in Raymond’s tone stung.

"You assumed I came here to put on a show."

Raymond tilted his head slightly, his gaze piercing.

"You assumed I was bluffing, trying to gain pity or make myself look good in front of my wife."

Then he took another slow, unhurried step forward.

"But tell me, Damien," Raymond continued, his voice unwavering, "if I were truly desperate—if I were nothing but a pathetic fool reaching beyond my limits—why are you the one looking nervous right now?"

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating.

At that moment a muscle ticked in Damien’s jaw.

Valentina caught it immediately.

He was nervous.

For the first time tonight, he wasn’t in control.

Raymond stepped even closer, lowering his voice just enough that only Damien could hear.

"Your plan failed," he murmured. "You thought you could use my wife to humiliate me. But look at you now, Damien."

A slow, cold smile spread across Raymond’s lips.

"You’re the one sweating."

Raymond’s gaze was sharp, unyielding. The air between him and Demian was electric with tension.

"This is your last warning," Raymond said, his voice calm but carrying a dangerous edge.

"I don’t want to hear my wife’s name coming from your mouth again. Not today. Not ever."

Demian’s smirk faltered—just for a second—but he quickly recovered, scoffing as if Raymond’s words were nothing but empty threats.

"Oh?" Demian let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head.

"You must be joking. Who do you think you are to warn me?"

Raymond didn’t move. He didn’t need to.

"Try me," he said simply.

The weight of his words sank into the room, thick like a storm cloud.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Then, laughter. Demian laughed.

Loud, mocking, filled with disbelief.

And like an infection, others joined in, their amusement echoing through the hall.

They thought he was serious before, but now?

Now they were convinced—Raymond wasn’t just a fool, He was insane.

However seeing the deadly look on Raymond face.

Damien involuntarily stepped back. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but it happened.

Raymond’s eyes held a quiet storm, unwavering, unshaken. He wasn’t bluffing. He never bluffed.

And Damien felt the intensity.

Yet, the rest of the hall continued to mock, scoff, and sneer.

"Madman." Someone muttered under their breath.

"Absolutely insane." Another voice joined.

But Raymond?

He stood tall, composed, confident.

The Auditioneer hesitated. He wasn’t sure what to say anymore.

Still, he had to do his job.

Clearing his throat, he asked the question everyone expected.

"Is there anybody else willing to match this bid?"

The hall went silent. Then, a single movement.

Dorian Lancaster raised his head.

The hall was still buzzing with insults, laughter, and disdain.

Raymond stood there, unmoved, unwavering.

The crowd didn’t care.

"What a joke!" Someone scoffed.

"A complete waste of time!" Another spat.

"Does he think we’re here for a circus?"

Their voices blended into a chorus of mockery.

Then, a shift. A voice—calm, measured, yet commanding.

Dorian Lancaster didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.

"Who... do you take me for?" His words were slow, deliberate.

Immediately the room fell silent.

"Do I look like someone that can be played with?" His gaze was cold, his expression unreadable.

Nobody dared to answer.

He continued.

"Everyone here knows the rules. There’s a limit. 35 million. Even in this entire country, not every family can match that amount in a single transaction."

He turned, his eyes now on the auditioneer.

"And yet, you stand there. Saying nothing. Doing nothing."

Then, he gave his final command.

"I want to see the boss."

At that moment the atmosphere in the hall turned stiff when an elderly man stepped forward, his polished shoes tapping against the marble floor. His presence alone was enough to shift the energy in the room.

A murmur spread through the guests as they recognized him.

The true head of the auction house.

The very man behind this exclusive, elite event.

Dorian Lancaster didn’t even spare him a glance at first. His sharp eyes remained locked on the trembling auditioneer, waiting for an explanation.

The elderly man, however, moved with complete composure. His gaze scanned the hall until it landed on Raymond.

His expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes.

Valentina, still gripping Raymond’s arm, could feel the shift in the air.

Even Damien, who had been so confident about what was about to unfold, froze.

The elderly man finally spoke.

His voice was calm, deep, and carried a weight that silenced the entire hall.

"It seems we have an issue here."

At that moment Dorian Lancaster finally turned his gaze toward him.

"An issue? No. What we have is a fraud wasting our time." His voice was clipped, arrogant, and full of disdain.

"This man—this nobody—dares to insult J-12 by bidding above his worth. If this is how your auction house is run, then perhaps we should reconsider our association with you."

A sharp gasp rippled through the hall.

J-12 reconsidering their partnership? That was a threat no auction house in the country could afford.

The auditioneer turned ghostly pale.

Damien smirked, waiting for the elderly man to humiliate Raymond.

But what happened next shattered every single expectation in that room.

The elderly man turned his full attention toward Dorian Lancaster and spoke—his voice laced with something dangerous.

"And what makes you think he doesn’t have the money?"

Silence. Dead silence.

Immediately Dorian Lancaster narrowed his eyes, his confidence wavering for the first time.

"...Excuse me?"

The elderly man simply smiled.

But it wasn’t the smile of a weak old man bowing to power.

It was the smile of someone who knew something no one else did.

The guests watched in stunned silence.

Even Demian’s smirk vanished.

Raymond?