My Blood Fed His First Love Chapter 05

My Blood Fed His First Love Chapter 05

Julian’s POV 

I mobilized every resource I had–private 

investigators, hospital systems, bank account tracking. 

But Clara had vanished like smoke. 

“Surveillance shows Mrs. Thorne was last seen near a 

clinic in the suburbs. We found some… you need to see this.” 

Evans handed me a folder. 

I opened it. My fingers froze instantly. 

Medical records, surveillance screenshots, and a video file. 

The records showed: Clara hadn’t voluntarily aborted. 

Due to prolonged extraction of Rh–null blood, her body had suffered severe functional failure, leading to 

signs of threatened miscarriage. 

I pressed play. 

In the surveillance footage, Clara’s face was deathly pale, one hand braced against the wall, the other 

protecting her abdomen. She spoke to the camera, 

her voice so weak it was barely audible: 

“As long as I can save this child, I’m willing to hide in hell… I won’t let Julian turn you into Serena’s medicine…” 

After saying this, she slid down to the floor, vomit mixed with blood. 

The video ended there. 

My phone slipped from my hand and hit the ground. 

“Fuck…” I covered my face. “Fuck fuck fuck!” 

She had fled to protect our child. 

I broke down crying, consumed by remorse for 

driving her to such desperation. 

“There’s one more thing,” Evans said through gritted 

teeth. “I accidentally discovered problems with 

Serena’s medical data. She… doesn’t seem to be sick at all.” 

I shot to my feet and rushed to Serena’s apartment to confront her. 

The apartment door was unlocked. 

I pushed it open to sounds from the bedroom—a woman’s moans, a man’s low groans. 

I walked straight in and kicked the bedroom door open. 

On the bed, Serena was straddling a muscular male model, both completely naked. Her skin glowed with 

health, showing no trace of illness. That face” 

sustained by golden blood” was full of satisfied pleasure. 

“Julian?!” Seeing me, Serena screamed and grabbed for the sheets, but it was too late. 

The model tried to flee in panic. I grabbed him by the collar and threw him out. 

“Get out.” 

The door slammed shut. 

Serena huddled in the corner wrapped in the sheet. 

“The blood failure disease,” I said, enunciating each word. “It’s fake?” 

She was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly burst out laughing. 

Laughing hysterically. 

“Hahahaha… Julian, you finally fucking figured it out? 

“She lit a cigarette. “I thought you’d stay stupid till died. Genius of the medical world? Bullshit!” 

My fists clenched with an audible crack. 

“Why? I was so good to you. Why did you do this to me?” 

“Why?” Serena laughed. “Years ago, your mother looked down on my humble origins, forced me to have an abortion, gave me fifty thousand to get lost! I hated you all-” 

She stood up, the sheet falling away as she walked toward me naked. 

“So I wanted revenge. I wanted to make you drain your wife’s blood drop by drop after you got married. I wanted to watch you destroy your own family! 

Julian, you know how good these five years felt? Every 

time I saw Clara’s stupid face, I wanted to laugh—” 

Slap! 

I struck her across the face. 

Serena fell to the ground, blood trickling from her mouth. 

But she was still laughing. 

“Hit me! Hit me harder! Anyway-” She looked up, eyes venomous. “You’re the one who killed your child drove away your wife! Julian, you’ll never be happy!” 

My sanity snapped in that moment. 

The villa basement. 

I strapped Serena to the blood collection chair–the 

same chair Clara had been bound to countless times over five years. 

“Julian… what… what are you doing?” Serena finally began to fear. 

I said nothing, just silently set up the complete blood extraction equipment. 

Thick needles. 

Large–capacity blood bags. 

Just like I’d done to Clara. 

“Julian! You’re insane! Let me go!” Serena screamed and struggled. 

I inserted the needle, watching the red liquid slowly flow out. 

“You stole five years of Clara’s blood,” I said quietly. ” 

Now, give it back.” 

“No no no—Julian please–I was wrong—I was really wrong-” 

Her pleas grew weaker and weaker. 

I watched the blood, falling into some kind of manic delusion. 

If I just drain this fraud dry, I can give the blood back to Clara… 

If she dies, Clara will come back… 

“Julian…” Serena’s voice was barely a thread. “You’ll… live in regret forever…” 

After those final words, her head dropped. 

I looked at the blood bags covering the floor and suddenly collapsed to my knees. 

Hands pressed against the cold ground, I dry heaved. 

But nothing came up. 

“Clara…” I muttered. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” 

But I knew sorry was useless. 

Blood flowing into the sewers couldn’t bring her back. 

I used medical techniques to fake Serena’s death as sudden illness,” but Clara never returned. 

Two years later. 

The hospital suspended me–because alcohol–induced tremors nearly made me plunge a scalpel into a patient’s aorta. 

I spent my days in the empty villa, talking to the air. 

“Clara, dinner’s ready, come eat…” 

“Was the baby good today? Let daddy feel…” 

The neighbors looked at me like I was a madman. 

Maybe I truly had gone mad. 

That day, I received an anonymous email, The attachment was a blurry photo; an airport, a woman’s silhouette, holding a toddler’s hand. 

That figure… looked exactly like Clara. 

The email body contained just one line: 

Global Rare Blood Types and Regenerative Medicine Symposium Invitation Featured Guest: Clara 

I stared at the screen, eyes reddening. 

She’s come back… 

I thought it was salvation, a chance for reconciliation, never knowing- 

This was the grave Clara, as judge, had prepared for me.