He Shared My Pregnancy Pics — I Ended His Bloodline

The day I found out I was unexpectedly pregnant, I told Adrian Scott right away.

He immediately snapped a photo of my baby bump.

The next day, I saw that photo posted in his private buddies’ group chat.

“Damn, Adrian, you’re the man! This woman’s only been with you a year and she’s already letting you go in without protection.”

“Big deal, Layla was never a virgin anyway.”

“By the way, Adrian, when are you gonna tell her you were the one who drugged and took her first time back then?”

Adrian took a moment before replying:

“No rush. Bella’s not done having her fun yet.”

I didn’t argue or confront him.

Instead, I quietly booked an appointment for an abortion and reserved a plane ticket overseas.

Later, on the day he caught me going in for the procedure, he dropped to his knees, eyes red.

“Layla, please… give me one more chance, okay?”

...

Messages on my laptop kept rolling in.

I stood frozen in place, my whole body rigid, my hands scratching my skin uncontrollably.

Adrian had no idea his phone messages were synced to my computer.

The chat continued:

“Adrian, send that video from back then again. I didn’t get to finish it before you deleted it.”

“Man, you can’t deny it—Layla’s ass is like a peach, curves in all the right places.”

My stomach churned, my scratching so hard my fingers turned white.

So Adrian was the one who ruined me.

Back in my junior year of college, I had a guaranteed graduate school admission to a top-ranked U.S. university.

After a party one night, I woke up in an unfamiliar hotel room.

Bloodstained sheets, the ache in my body, the wreckage all around… everything screamed what had happened.

I rushed to a pharmacy for the morning-after pill and forced myself to act calm as I returned to campus.

But within a day, the campus forum was plastered with my photo:

“Top School of Engineering student Layla Brooks caught having group sex off campus—what a slut.”

In the picture, my eyes were glazed, my face streaked with tears.

Rumors exploded. I was shunned and isolated.

Some people even blocked me outside my dorm, asking how much I charged for a night.

When things blew up further, my academic advisor called me in.

“Layla, after consideration by the administration, your guaranteed graduate school admission has been revoked.”

No one believed my side of the story. After my admission was taken away, the bullying only escalated.

Eventually, the forum was shut down… but two days later, the rumors resurfaced online, even worse.

I couldn’t take it anymore—I filed for a leave of absence.

When I returned home, Robert Brooks, my father, threw my suitcase out the door.

“Don’t you dare tell people you’re my daughter. I won’t have my name dragged through the mud!”

That night, I dragged my suitcase to the riverbank.

Staring at the surging current, I tossed the suitcase into the water.

That’s when Adrian stopped me just in time.

“Layla, I know everything online is just lies. I believe you’re not that kind of person.”

If he hadn’t shown up that night, I might’ve ended my life.

I trusted him. Depended on him.

Only to learn in the end—it was him who destroyed me.

My thoughts snapped back.

My phone buzzed twice on the table—it was a money transfer from Adrian:

“Work’s busy. I can’t make it to your prenatal check-up. Thanks for going on your own, babe.”

At the same time, my computer lit up with another synced message:

“We’ll talk later. Bella cut her hand. I’m taking her to the hospital.”

I dug my nails into my palm so hard I broke the skin.

The pain snapped me back to reality.

Fighting the nausea in my throat, I backed up all the messages to my computer.

Then I called the hospital to schedule the abortion.

After setting everything in motion, I couldn’t hold it in anymore—

I ran to the bathroom and threw up.