The Midnight Show That Ended with My Husband’s Affair Chapter 13

The Midnight Show That Ended with My Husband’s Affair Chapter 13 The Blood

With trembling hands, he reached out, palm open and soaked in blood, as if showing me the sincerity of

his atonement.

“I gave you back all the blood in my belly… Lena… has your anger gone down at all?”

He looked at me with desperate hope, his eyes burning with that fierce light unique to the dying.

“I’ve paid you back with half my life… forgive me, come home with me… please?”

He believed that after going this far-

He, a distinguished law professor, had thrown away all his dignity, mutilated himself on a public street. stabbed his own gut in front of me, and endured the most primal physical agony on my behalf.

Surely even if I were a thousand-year block of ice, it should melt under such hot blood?

Surely, no matter how much I hated him, seeing him on the verge of death should make me rush forward in panic, hold him, and shed a single tear?

But.

Reality was ten thousand times crueler than the freezing snow.

I stood under my umbrella, looking down at Spencer kneeling in a pool of blood.

My eyelids didn’t even flutter.

Those cold, clear eyes held no shock, no panic, no pity.

I didn’t step forward. Instead, because I was disgusted by the blood spreading toward me, I calmly stepped half a step back.

Under Spencer’s desperate, yearning gaze-

I calmly pulled out my phone, slowly unlocked the screen, and dialed the internal security line.

“Hello, security control?”

My voice was utterly steady in the cold snowy night. Not a trace of emotion.

“There’s a crazy person at the main gate mutilating himself. He’s gotten blood everywhere.”

The person on the other end apologized profusely and said they would send someone immediately.

I lowered my eyes, glanced coldly at Spencer’s frozen face, and continued speaking into the phone in an utterly ruthless tone.

‘Call the police and have an ambulance take him away. Also, send a few janitors with high-concentration disinfectant and floor scrubbers to wash every inch of the pavement at the main gate.”

“Don’t let this filthy blood and this nauseating stench affect our group’s foreign guests tomorrow.”

“Lena…”

Spencer knelt dully in the blood, watching me put away my phone.

I didn’t look at him again. Escorted by my assistant, I gracefully sat down in the back seat of the Maybach.

“Drive,” I said flatly to the chauffeur.

“No… Lena, don’t go!”

Spencer reached out with his blood-soaked hands, trying to grab the car’s tires.

The chauffeur sharply turned the steering wheel.

The wheels rolled directly over the shocking puddle of blood and snow in front of Spencer.

Spencer lay face-down in the mud and blood, watching the car disappear. Suddenly he let out a burst of utterly despairing, manic laughter.

He laughed so hard tears and blood sprayed everywhere. Finally, from blood loss and extreme pain, his body tilted, and he collapsed heavily into the pool of his own blood, losing consciousness completely.