CHAPTER 6

Upon hearing what Raymond just said.

Valentina's glowing blue eyes widened at Raymond's words, unsure if he was being serious. She hesitated, regaining her balance as her heart raced in her chest.

"I wish I could," she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of longing. "I wish I could go back to my old self."

Then Raymond stepped closer, his expression steady and serious.

"I want to see your whole body, Valentina," he said gently but firmly.

Immediately her heart pounded harder, the room suddenly feeling smaller.

"You… you're joking, right?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. But his gaze didn't waver. His eyes, filled with a quiet mixture of pity and determination, told her he wasn't joking.

"I want to see," Raymond repeated, his tone unwavering.

At that moment Valentina froze, her mind racing. She hadn't shown her full scars to anyone willingly, not even herself in years.

The thought of revealing them to Raymond was terrifying, but something in his presence made her pause.

Slowly, she nodded, though her body felt stiff.

Her trembling fingers moved to the scarf wrapped around her head. She hesitated for a moment before pulling it free, letting her hair cascade down her back. The long strands, uneven and fragile, framed her scarred shoulders as she turned her back to him, facing the bed instead.

Raymond's eyes caught on the zipper running down the back of her gown, a quiet signal from Valentina that she wouldn't say aloud. She wanted him to take the next step, to see if he truly meant what he said.

Without wasting anymore time Raymond stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, his hands steady as they touched the zipper. The faint sound of the metal pull sliding echoed in the room, but before he could go further, Valentina's voice broke the silence.

"Close your eyes," she said, her tone heavy with sadness.

"What you might see… it might traumatize you."

However Raymond didn't pause or hesitate. He began pulling down the zipper of Valentina's gown, his movements deliberate yet gentle. As the metallic sound filled the quiet room, his voice broke through.

"A real man can never be traumatized by his wife's body," he said calmly. "Instead, he should feel… energized."

The gown parted slowly, revealing the scars beneath.

The fabric slipped down to expose her back—burned, discolored skin, a painful testament to her past. Brown, uneven folds of skin stretched across her shoulders, with swollen, round patches scattered like silent reminders of the fire that had marked her.

At that moment Valentina's glowing blue eyes filled with tears as she stared straight ahead, unable to turn around.

Raymond's silence gnawed at her, and she felt her insecurities rising to the surface like waves ready to drown her.

"Are you regretting it now?" she asked, her voice breaking, raw and vulnerable. "Do you see now? Maybe you should've let me go. Maybe you should've just taken the money from my stepsister's hands and let me…"

However before she could finish, she felt his lips press against her shoulder. The kiss was soft, gentle, and unwavering.

"You're beautiful," Raymond said, his voice low but firm, as though the words were an undeniable truth.

Immediately Valentina's heart missed a beat. She turned to face him, her glowing eyes wide and filled with both disbelief and a glimmer of hope.

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Just tell me the truth. Tell me you regret marrying an ugly creature like me."

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she slowly let the gown fall further, exposing her entire body to him.

Valentina stood there, trembling, her scars fully exposed.

However She expected Raymond to flinch, close his eyes, or take a step back. She braced herself for a reaction—disgust, shock, or pity. But none of it came.

Raymond's expression remained calm, unreadable, as though nothing about her appearance fazed him.

The absence of judgment only made her more self-conscious, a wave of shame creeping over her. She had exposed herself completely, and yet he wasn't reacting at all.

Then her hands moved instinctively to cover herself, her glowing blue eyes brimming with tears. But before she could retreat further, Raymond stepped closer, closing the gap between them.

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a firm embrace.

His warmth was overwhelming, steadying her even as her emotions threatened to consume her.

"Never call yourself a creature," he said softly, his voice steady but filled with conviction. "You're human. And to me, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

Valentina couldn't hold back her tears anymore.

They spilled freely as she sobbed into Raymond's chest, her hands gripping his shirt tightly. Through her broken cries, she managed to whisper, "What are you? Who are you?"

Again Raymond's arms tightened around her, his voice low and comforting. "I'm your husband," he said simply, as though that was all the answer she needed.

For a long while, they stood there, Valentina letting out years of pent-up pain in his embrace. When her cries began to subside, Raymond gently pulled back, his hands resting on her shoulders.

"I'll help you recover," he said, his tone filled with quiet determination.

"It won't take long—just a few days, maybe a week at most."

Hearing what Raymond just said.

Valentina stared at him, her glowing eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and fragile hope. She had never felt so much in her life—so much care, so much acceptance. Slowly, she nodded.

Raymond smiled faintly and took her hand, leading her to the bathroom. Inside, he retrieved a small jar of a black, viscous substance. He began rubbing it gently over the burned portions of her skin, his touch careful and deliberate.

"What is this?" Valentina asked softly, her voice trembling.

"It's a treatment I purchased," Raymond explained. "It wasn't cheap, but it'll heal your wounds. Trust me."

She watched him work, his attention focused entirely on her. For the first time, she didn't feel like an object of pity. She felt… cared for.

Once he was finished applying the potion, Raymond stepped back and retrieved a gown he had prepared. It was elegant and tailored, tighter than the one she had been wearing before, covering her entirely but fitting her perfectly.

He helped her into the gown, ensuring every detail was just right. Finally, he wrapped her scarf back around her face, gently tucking it into place.

"You won't take a bath for the next five days," Raymond said softly, his gaze meeting hers. "The potion needs time to work, and by then, it'll words magic on your scar."

Valentina nodded quietly, her glowing blue eyes filled with doubt, but she didn't voice her disbelief. Even if she didn't fully believe Raymond's words about the potion, her heart was moved by the love he had shown her—something she had never experienced before. She was willing to trust him, even if it was blind faith.

As her thoughts swirled, a strange warmth spread through her body. It started subtly but grew rapidly, almost overwhelming. Her breathing quickened, her legs weakening beneath her.

"Raymond…" she whispered, her voice faint and shaky.

However before she could say more, her body gave out, her vision blurring as she started to collapse. Raymond moved instantly, catching her in his arms before she could hit the floor.

However his expression remained calm, though his red-rimmed eyes betrayed a flicker of worry.

He gently carried her to the bed, laying her down carefully. With practiced movements, he adjusted the blanket over her fragile frame, tucking it securely around her. Valentina's face, though pale, looked serene, as if she were in a deep, peaceful sleep.

Raymond stood by the bed, watching her for a long moment. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he noticed her steady breathing. Slowly, he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to her hand.

"You'll be fine," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

Straightening, he turned and walked to the door.

As he opened it and stepped out, he was met with an unexpected sight—his parents, Cecilia and Charles, standing silently in the hallway.

He couldn't help but smile at their appearance.

They looked young—impossibly young. Their features were smooth and radiant, their bodies lithe and full of energy, like they were twenty again.

"Will she survive it?" Cecilia asked, her youthful face etched with concern. Her voice was soft but carried an edge of urgency.

Charles crossed his arms, his expression grim.

"You know the risk," he said quietly. "If things go wrong, she might not make it. And if it comes to that…" He hesitated, his gaze locking with Raymond's. "You might have no choice but to turn her again."