My husband's public girlfriend thought I was his dirty little secret.

"I'm sending you and your bastard child to hell!" she screamed, and shoved me against the stone balustrade.

She left me bleeding and broken on the ground. My face was ruined, and my baby was gone.

As I lay there in agony, I heard my husband on the phone.

He was comforting her.

"My poor baby, are you okay? Did you chip your new manicure?"

But when he realized the "fan" his girlfriend had brutalized was me, he fell apart.

————————

————————

1

At a penthouse charity gala in New York, I was cornered on the terrace by a group of women.

The one leading them had a face I knew all too well: Sloane Vaughn, my husband Jasper Sterling's new public girlfriend.

"Look who it is," Sloane’s voice sliced through the soft strains of the string quartet. "Let's go say hello."

Before I could react, a sharp slap cracked across my face, my cheek stinging.

Sloane crossed her arms, looking down at me with a disdainful smirk.

"You're Blair Westwood, right?" she sneered. "You know Jasper is my man, so why are you always buzzing around him?"

"Why waste your breath on her, Sloane?" one of her friends sneered.

"We need to show her she doesn't belong here. Everyone hates a homewrecker."

I instinctively cradled my belly, my heart hammering in my chest.

"Wait—I'm pregnant," I pleaded, my voice trembling. "You can't do this—"

But Sloane's face was as cold as ice, her eyes glinting with malice.

"Pregnant? With his child? Is it because of you and this little bastard that Jasper wants to leave me?"

I shook my head desperately, trying to explain.

"No, you're the other woman! I'm his—"

My words were cut off by a violent shove that slammed me against a nearby stone planter.

A searing pain tore through my abdomen, stealing my breath.

Her friends closed in, shoving me again.

Dizzy and unsteady, all I could do was cradle my stomach as a cold terror for my unborn child washed over me.

Sloane grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the rough edge of the stone planter.

I felt a warm, sticky liquid trickle down my face. It was blood, mixed with cold sweat and tears.

Through a haze of pain, I saw Sloane make a call.

Her triumphant smirk made my stomach churn as she put the call on speaker.

"Hey, what's up?" Jasper's warm, unsuspecting voice came through the speaker.

Sloane giggled, her voice sickeningly sweet.

"Would you be mad if I taught that crazy fan who's been stalking you a lesson?"

He chuckled, his tone dripping with indulgence.

"If you're going to rough someone up, let security handle it," he replied.

"Did you chip your new manicure?"

Despair washed over me, dragging me into a darkness so deep I could barely breathe.

I opened my mouth, desperate to speak, to call for help, but only a hoarse groan escaped.

"What was that sound?" Jasper's voice came through the phone, tinged with annoyance, and a faint flicker of hope ignited in me.

I groaned louder, praying he would hear my pain.

Sloane shot me a wary glance and scrambled to cover it up.

"It's nothing. You must have misheard."

He didn't doubt her, not for a second.

"Alright. Do whatever you want—I've got your back."

"Love you," she cooed, hanging up with a triumphant smile.

I collapsed onto the cold tiles, tears streaking through the blood on my face as Sloane stood over me, planting her hands on her hips.

"Don't get it twisted, everyone," she announced to the growing crowd. "This stalker is just getting what she deserves! She had the nerve to come between me and my fiancé. Tell me, isn't this what she had coming?"

The whispers around me swelled into a chorus of contempt.

"I can't believe it, she looks so respectable."

"I can't believe it. She looks so normal," a woman sneered. "To think she's a stalker. How shameless."

"Exactly! She has no shame at all," another woman chimed in.

"Honestly, she deserves it."

"That's right! Women like her need to be taught a lesson!"

The searing pain in my abdomen left me unable to respond, each ragged breath draining my strength.

Sloane basked in the crowd's support, a dark satisfaction glinting in her eyes.

She straddled me, slapping me repeatedly, each blow making my head ring.

I raised my trembling hands, trying desperately to shield my stomach.

"My… baby…" I moaned, my voice barely audible.

Sloane laughed, a hollow, cruel sound.

"You're lucky this baby isn't born yet. Otherwise, I'd make sure that little thing knows just how ugly this world can be."

Her friends yanked my hair, and the world tilted, my vision blurring at the edges.

I sensed a shift in the crowd, a growing unease.

"Alright, that's enough," a voice finally cut in.

"This… this is going too far, don't you think?"

"Look at her face," another person murmured.

"It's all swollen and bleeding… this is too much."

Someone spat, "Only a slut would defend another slut! You're on her side? Maybe you're a stalker too!"

But then one of Sloane's friends gasped, "Sloane, there's blood!"

The word "blood" sent a jolt through me.

Blood?

My body trembled as I fought against the pain, trying to focus my scattered thoughts.

"My baby… please, my baby…"

The crowd's tone shifted, now laced with alarm.

"Is she pregnant? Even if she's a stalker, this is insane! What if she has a miscarriage?"

"Oh, so now you feel sorry for her?" another person muttered darkly.

"If she loses that baby, you're all responsible—you're the ones who egged this on."

Sloane's composure faltered. She took a step back, shocked but still defiant.

"Oh, please, she's faking it. There's no way this could cause a miscarriage. She's not even pregnant!"

I used the last of my strength to move.

I reached behind me. My fingers came away slick with warm blood.

Sloane shot a look at her friends, and they hauled me roughly off the ground.

"Fine. Since you're in such a hurry to get to a clinic, we'll give you a ride," she said, her voice dripping with mock concern. "But remember this," she added with a smirk, "you brought this on yourself."

They dragged me to a dim, windswept cliff's edge, the air thick with the heavy, salty tang of the sea.

My instincts screamed that this wasn't a clinic, but I was fading too fast to fight back.

With my last ounce of strength, I forced my eyes open and pleaded, "Please… my baby might still be saved… just take me to a clinic. I swear, I'll stay away from Jasper, I'll disappear… but please, save my baby…"

A contemptuous smile played on Sloane's lips.

"Oh, are we supposed to believe a stalker now?"

"Still worried about that bastard child, are you?"

"That's too bad," she hissed, her face contorting with malice.

"You and your baby can just rot here together."

She pulled a gleaming folding knife from her designer handbag, its tip tracing a slow, cold path across my cheek.

"Just in case," she whispered, "I'm going to ruin this pretty face you use to seduce men."

I had no strength left to fight.

"Jasper will find out… He cares about this baby. If he finds out you killed his child, he won't let you get away with it!"

Sloane paused, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I had finally gotten through to her.

But then, with a flick of her wrist, she pressed down hard, carving a swift, deep gash across my cheek.

"You bitch, you dare mention Jasper's name!" she snarled.

"How would he find out?" she roared. "By the time I'm done with you, no one will even remember your name."

I froze, a chill spreading through my body as she carved more cuts into my face.

The stinging became so intense that I went numb.

Seeing me so utterly broken, Sloane's lips curved into a triumphant smirk.

"Look at you now, Blair. A monster. How are you going to compete with me now?" she taunted.

"This is what you get for crossing me!"

I was a discarded doll as she vented her fury, her rage a storm of cuts and blows.

I felt myself drifting away, my consciousness fraying at the edges.

Sloane's friends watched her, their faces pale with fear.

"Sloane, maybe that's enough. She's going to die if you keep this up," one of them said, their voice trembling.

Sloane snorted.

"Scared? Jasper promised he'd take care of everything. What are you worried about?"

I lay helpless on the ground, a wet cough rattling in my chest, the taste of blood on my tongue.

Finally, she stood up.

"Alright, that's enough for today. I'm tired. Let's get out of here. If she's still breathing later, maybe I'll come back to finish the job."

With that, Sloane and her accomplices left.

I lay on the cold ground, clutching my belly, fighting for every breath.

An empty void bloomed in my chest as my world went dark.

"Little one… I'm so sorry. This is all my fault," I whispered as my life faded away. "If I survive this, I will get justice for you. I swear it."

Tears mixed with the blood running down my cheeks, each drop a fresh sting in my wounds.

Time blurred.

I don't know how long I lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness, until a faint sound reached my ears—someone was approaching.

Through the haze, I recognized Miles Finch, Jasper's assistant.

He took one look at my mangled form and immediately made a video call to Jasper.

"Boss, this isn't good. Sloane went too far… The woman's face is completely ruined."