Divorcing My Husband Over His Stepsister's Secret novel Chapter 113

Anna’s POV:

white shirt was rapidly turning crimson, the stark contrast being into my retinas.

Blood bloomed across the expensive fabric like a macabre watercol spreading outward from where the knife had shred his left side just below the til

Across from him, Claire trembled uncontrollably, her face cycling between fears and hate–filled glares, mascara ninning in dark rivulets down her cheeks.

Then came

e that s

sound – something between a sob and a laugh–sending chills down my spine and stretching the room tension to its breaking point.

The sound didn’t seem human, more like something feral trapped inside her delicate frame.

A fustered hotel waiter rushed in, nearly tripping over his own feet is eyes widened at the bloodstain spreading across Blake’s shirt, new covering most of his left side,

“1–I’m so sorry,” he stammered, throwing a cautious glance my way. If you hadn’t specifically asked us to leave, ma’am, perhaps we could have… His voice trailed off, unwilling to finish the accusation hanging in the air.

Blake stood motionless, as if the pain couldn’t touch hins. His shoulders remained square, his jaw clenched tight, his cold composure pushed to its limits.

Not a single muscle in his face betrayed discomfort, though the blood continued to seep from his wound. Those deep blue eyes locked with mine, filled with something complex yet resolute.

“I’m paying your debt with my blood. Is that enough?” His voice was hinnervingly calm, ending with a hint of self–mockery that I’d rarely heard from him before.

The knife had done its damage. Not fatal, but deep enough that blood continued soaking through his shirt, transforming the white” fabric into a deep crimson that matched the wine in our glasses.

“Mr. Wright, you need medical attention immediately… The hotel manager urged, security personnel nodding in agreement beside him. A first aid kit appeared from somewhere, but Blake waved it away with a slight motion of his hand.

Blake ignored everyone around him. His focus remained solely on me waiting for my answer as if nothing else in the world mattered. Blood dripped onto the plush carpet, but he didn’t move, didn’t wince.

Suddenly lightheaded, I stumbled back into a chair. My heart hammered against my chest, yet a strange calmness washed over me

Blake’s carefully planned “perfect date” turned into a complete disaster, I thought. You never did give me a perfect date, Blake. Even our goodbye is a mess.”

The thought struck me with unexpected clarity. After four years of marriage, countless attempts at connection, and now this dramatic bloodletting–we were still missing each other completely

Who won in the end? I wondered. “Your blood, my tears–there are no winners here, just scars.”

Blake’s body eventually swayed slightly, the first sign that his superhuman control was slipping.

A barely perceptible paleness crept across his face, making his blue eyes seem even more vibrant by contrast. Those eyes gradually lost focus and slowly closed.

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Chapter 113.

Hotel staff rushed forward to Support him, desperately maintaining the Wright family dignity in public, helping him in a chair with practiced discretion.

until my knuckles turned white. The fine linen

1 sat froren, pale–faced with tears welling up, my fingers gripping the table edge u napkin in my lap now crushed in my dist.

The accounts between us will never balance, will they? The thought luated through my mind like a sad melody

Memories flooded back–every moment with Blake, every time we connected, every flash of tenderness in his eyes.

The first time he’d looked at me with something other than cold callation. The rare moments when his guard had dropped, revealing someone capable of warmth. The night he’d flown us over Boston in his private plane, the city lights reflecting in his eyes. All becoming past tense not

Blake, this is the last time I soften for you, I decided silently. Consider it a parting gift, and my own path to freedom.

A bitter smile touched my lips. Tine. We’re even.”

My voice was quiet but final, barely audible above the commotion of people tending to Blake.

While everyone fussed over him, Claire remained rooted to her spot. Her voice turned shrill, eyes bloodshot, consumed by some dark emotion that seemed to have taken complete control.

“Anna, Blakey can’t live without me, and I can’t live without Blakey. It’s always been that way.” Her words came out in sharp bursts. He was just temporarily under your spell.”

I replied coolly, my newfound calm surprising even myself. “But he chose me an

me and told you to leave. I heard him say it myself.”

Claire’s demeanor shifted instantly–from aggressive to pitiful, tears pooling in her eyes with practiced precision.

The transformation was so sudden it was almost theatrical. Her shoulders hunched forward, making her look smaller, more

vulnerable.

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