To Hell with Their Wedding Vows

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."