Chapter 6: The Wedding Present

That night, Lucas Shaw sent me a video.

My phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with an unknown number. I hesitated, then pressed play. The video was grainy, but the voices were unmistakable.

Tessa Monroe was still all over Jason, her face flushed.

She laughed, her hands tangled in his hair. Jason’s voice was low, intimate. I felt a surge of nausea.

One more month. These days were hell.

Each day dragged by, the tension mounting. I barely slept, haunted by nightmares.

That’s what they wanted, anyway.

Chad McMillan grinned. “Jason, what do you think Whitney would do if she ever found out?”

His voice was mocking, eyes gleaming with anticipation. The others leaned in, eager for gossip.

“Get revenge?”

Jason didn’t care. “What could she possibly do? Besides her parents’ shares, what does she have left?”

His arrogance was breathtaking. I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to scream.

“Once I have proof she cheated, she’s agreed to hand over everything. What else could she do?”

He leaned back, smug. The others nodded, impressed by his ruthlessness.

Scumbag. Jason, you’re the worst of the worst.

I whispered the words to myself, a bitter mantra. I would make him regret every single betrayal.

Jason took a deep breath. “You guys didn’t call me a scumbag when you were all in bed with her. If I’m a scumbag, what does that make you?”

The room went quiet, the accusation hanging in the air. The brothers shifted, uncomfortable.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re so generous. When can we go another round? I’ve never been with a pregnant chick. They say it’s wild.”

Their laughter was forced, uneasy. I felt sick, bile rising in my throat.

Jason’s face finally darkened. “Once. Only once. Never bring it up again. If anyone leaks this, don’t blame me for cutting you off—you’re cut off. Don’t test me.”

His voice was sharp, final. The threat was clear. The others fell silent.

“Remember, once I get Whitney’s parents’ shares, my status and net worth will be on a whole new level.”

His greed was palpable, almost tangible. I wanted to scream.

His pack of friends finally shut up, except for one who muttered,

The words were barely audible, but I caught them. A challenge, a warning.

“Yeah, Jason, you’re back on top. But you still can’t beat Lucas Shaw.”

The mention of Lucas sent a chill down my spine. I wondered what game he was playing.

I gripped my phone tight; I’d already shredded Jason’s photos with a pair of scissors.

I’d cut his face out of every picture. Shredded every memory. It felt good—cathartic. A small act of defiance. Ha, take that.

Jason, at next month’s wedding, I’ll give you a present.

I smiled to myself, the plan forming in my mind. I would make sure everyone saw him for what he really was.

A gift you gave me—one I’ll hand right back.

Poetic justice. The thought made me feel lighter, almost hopeful.

Just wait.

I whispered the words into the darkness, a promise to myself.

You’re dead.

Bastard!

The word felt good on my tongue, a curse and a vow.

As for the baby, I’m not getting rid of it—because I’ve already found his real father.

The knowledge gave me strength. I would protect this child, no matter what.

Jason kept asking me when I’d transfer the shares to him.

He called, texted, showed up at my door. I ignored him, letting him stew.

I stroked my belly with a smile. “No rush. I’ll hand them over at the wedding—in front of everyone.”

My voice was sweet, almost innocent. He bought it, hook, line, and sinker.

He hugged me tight, kissing my hair.

His touch made my skin crawl, but I forced myself to smile. The end was in sight.

“Whit, once we’re married, you can just stay home and wait for me. I’ll take care of earning money. We’ll be the happiest couple in the world.”

His words were a lie, but I let him believe it. I had bigger plans.

Disgusting!

I bit back the urge to gag, forcing a smile for his sake.

I covered my mouth and ran into the bathroom.

I locked the door behind me, sinking to the floor. The cold tile felt good against my cheek. I let myself cry, just for a minute.

He followed, patting my back and handing me tissues. I took the chance to ask,

I wiped my eyes, glancing up at him. His concern was fake, but I played along.

“Shouldn’t we just get rid of it? It’s not even yours, so why bother?”

I watched his face, searching for a flicker of guilt. There was none.

He still refused. “I’ll tell them the baby is mine. You didn’t cheat on me.”

His voice was calm, almost gentle. I wanted to scream.

I asked again, “But what if the baby’s real father shows up? What then?”

I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

He was full of confidence. “No way, Whit. Don’t worry. He’s not coming for you.”

His arrogance was breathtaking. I smiled, knowing he had no idea what was coming.

The way he said it made me want to destroy him even more—and as soon as possible.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, promising myself that I would. And when I did, he’d never see it coming.