The Midnight Show That Ended with My Husband’s Affair Chapter 14

The Midnight Show That Ended with My Husband’s Affair Chapter 14 Blocking the Blades

If the self-mutilation in the snow only destroyed Spencer’s dignity.

The accident that followed would cast him into an inescapable hell.

One month later. Fairhaven International Convention Center.

I had just published my first book on psychology. Today was a massive public signing event.

Spencer’s abdominal knife wound hadn’t fully healed. Thick medical gauze still wrapped his midsection.

But he still lurked like a ghost afraid of the light. He bribed one of the venue’s janitors, changed into an inconspicuous work uniform, and hid in the darkest corner behind the signing table.

He didn’t dare appear in front of me. He was afraid I’d call security and have him thrown out again. So he stayed in the shadows.

Halfway through the signing, the atmosphere was buzzing.

I smiled, signed a book for the reader in front of me, and handed it over.

Then, without warning-

A man with a deranged expression, standing near the back of the line, suddenly pulled a sharp military combat knife from inside his jacket.

“You blood-sucking capitalist! You bought my family’s media company and drove my father to suicide! Go to die, you b*tch!”

The extremist raised the gleaming blade and stabbed straight toward my heart.

“Help! Someone’s attacking!”

Pandemonium erupted instantly. The chaos was so sudden that the bodyguard closest to me was shoved aside by the panicked crowd and couldn’t draw his weapon in time.

The knife, carrying the aura of death, was inches away.

I sat in my chair, watching the descending blade with utterly calm eyes. I didn’t even flinch.

In that split second, when everyone thought I was about to die-

“Lena!”

From the dark corner behind me, a black figure in a janitor’s uniform. Spencer.

The unhealed wound on his abdomen burst open from the violent movement, but he felt no pain.

His eyes turned bloodshot, nearly bleeding. Only one mad thought filled his mind: She cannot die.

Spencer lunged at me. He shoved me off my chair and onto the floor.

In the same motion, he flipped his body around, pinning me underneath him.

He spread his arms wide, shielding me completely with his broad back.

Three muffled, skull-numbing thuds.

The madman, with that foot-long combat knife, stabbed three times without mercy.

Every blade missed my body. All three plunged brutally into Spencer’s back.

One pierced straight through his shoulder blade.

The most fatal one stabbed deep into his right back, tearing completely through his lung.

“AAAAHHH-”

Spencer let out an inhuman scream of agony. The impact shredded his internal organs. Blood gushed instantly.

BANG.

A gunshot. The bodyguard who had finally pushed through shot the attacker dead.

Screams filled the entire hall.

But underneath the carnage, held tight in Spencer’s arms, I was unharmed.

Not a single scratch.

“Cough… cough…”

Spencer lay on top of me. His entire back was soaked red.

The deep, bone-visible stab wounds pumped out blood. Every breath sent searing pain through his torn lung.

But he clung to his last strength.

With great difficulty, he lowered his head to look at me beneath him.

His face was covered in cold sweat and blood. Thick red drops fell from his chin, drip, drip, beside my cheek.

He saw my flawless face, untouched by any wound.

His eyes, already beginning to lose focus, suddenly blazed with a sick, relieved joy.

He reached out with a blood-soaked hand, wanting to touch my face-but stopped himself, as if afraid his dirty blood would defile me.

“Lena…”

Spencer coughed bloody froth. Every word pushed more blood from his mouth.

“Don’t be afraid… I protected you…”

He forced the corners of his mouth into a smile-uglier than crying.

“This time… I didn’t care about anyone else… Summer… I ignored all of them…”

His body convulsed in pain, but his eyes begged. “I only watched you… I only protected you…”

“I’m paying with my life… for our baby… my lung is pierced… I’m dying…”

He stared into my eyes, using every last ounce of strength to whisper his final plea.

“Lena… you don’t hate me anymore, do you?”

He waited, full of hope.

He thought-back then, for Summer, he had pointed the law at my heart, forced me to give in.

Today, he was paying with his life.

He had taken fatal blows for me, traded his life for mine. Surely that should cleanse the sins of the past?

Surely that should earn a single tear, a grief-stricken “I forgive you”?

But.

“Move.”

One cold word from my lips. Then, with sudden force, I shoved him hard.