I was his allergen she was his cure what if this allergen turns lethal? novel Chapter 73

Chapter 10

That night. Michael returned to his home in Switzerland.

The moment he stepped inside, he hurled the items in his hands straight at Alice.

“Who the hell’s baby are you carrying?”

Alice, who had been hurriedly packing to escape, froze in terror.

Panicked, she tried to hide behind the sofa, but Michael grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back.

After days of relentless stress and torment, he was at his breaking point.

Watching my livestream on his way back had pushed him over the edge.

“We’re going to the hospital. I want to know whose kid it is!”

Alice refused, her voice shaking.

“I’m already eight months pregnant! Amniocentesis could hurt the baby!”

“Either we go now, or I’ll kill it myself!”

Michael roared, yanking so hard on her hair that a large clump came away in his hand.

“You filthy liar! Who were you with?”

The excruciating pain made Alice thrash wildly, her hands flailing until they hit something-a knife.

Before she realized what she’d done, Michael was on the floor in front of her, eyes wide in shock.

The knife was buried in his abdomen, blood pooling rapidly beneath him.

Alice’s hands trembled as she let go of the knife.

“Did I… kill him?”

“No, it wasn’t me… it was him… it wasn’t me!” she stammered.

Michael was still alive, but when he opened his mouth to speak, blood gushed out.

“Th-the baby…”

Alice’s fear dissipated, replaced by cold indifference.

“It’s not yours,” she said bluntly.

“I knew you couldn’t have kids before I even came back. My child can’t grow up without a father.”

Alice had known the doctor who handled Michael’s medical exams.

Her own husband was serving a life sentence for manslaughter, and she didn’t want her child stigmatized as the offspring of a murderer.

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I Was His Allergen, She Was The Cure. What If This Allergen Turns Lethal?

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Chapter 10

Michael had been the perfect cover.

And now, she’d just eliminated her first choice.

After confessing, Alice regained her composure.

She wiped away any evidence of the confrontation, turned on the gas in the kitchen, and staged the scene to look like a suicide.

But she barely made it to the airport before being apprehended.

Ironically, her timing couldn’t have been worse.

The previous month, an extradition treaty between the two countries had gone into effect.

Alice was brought back to face charges, but because of her pregnancy, she avoided the death penalty.

Instead, she was sentenced to life imprisonment, with the sentence delayed until a year after she gave birth.

I visited her in prison once.

Gone was the glamorous Alice of before.

Her hair was brittle and uneven, cut roughly with scissors.

Her skin sagged, and freckles dotted her face.

Meanwhile, I had regained my figure, returning to the fitness level I had in college. Regular exercise and a healthy routine left my skin glowing.

Sitting across from her, I smiled.

“Are you comfortable here?”

Alice stared at me with vacant eyes, as if she didn’t understand what I was saying.

Puzzled, I turned to the guard, who explained that Alice had been mentally unstable since arriving.

She didn’t harm others, but she spent most of her time in a daze.

She’d refused to be transferred to a psychiatric facility, almost as if the prison was a refuge rather than a punishment.

Whatever her reasons, I didn’t care.

David’s life, on the other hand, was in shambles.

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