The Ultimate Betrayal: My Fiancé And Sister Filmed My Rape For A Headline Chapter 05
Dead silence. The words hung in the air.
Then he laughed. A short, dry sound that hit my face like dust.
“Stop your scene, Claire. You won’t actually leave. We both know that, don’t we?”
“I’m the only one who knows what happened to you. She’s the only family you have. You have nowhere else to go.”
I said nothing. I pushed myself up from the floor.
Then Vivian screamed. A raw, jagged sound that scraped across the room.
The toddler in her arms had gone rigid. I heard her gasping, high, thin, like she couldn’t get enough air.
“She’s burning up—she can’t breathe! Nate, the keys, get her to the ER!”
Nate moved past me. His shoulder hit mine. Hard. Bone on bone.
With a heavy thud, my back hit against the wall as he pushed past.
The ceiling blurred above me.
And then, between my thighs, a wet heat.
Sudden. Heavy. Spreading through the denim, running down my leg.
I didn’t feel the floor. But I was on it.
The edges of my vision went dark. Then nothing.
…
The air smelled of disinfectant.
Cold gel on my belly. The machine gave only static. No heartbeat. Just flat, rushing static.
The doctor sighed and turned the screen away.
“The baby survived the rape,” her voice sounded distant, muffled. “But last night’s hit—he didn’t.”
For a moment, I forgot to breathe.
Ten weeks. I had been carrying a life for ten weeks, and I hadn’t felt a thing.
Not a flutter, not a whisper.
And the man who just killed him was the same one he came from.
For a long moment, I didn’t move.
Somewhere on the tray, my phone was buzzing.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
I hadn’t noticed it until now. I looked down. The screen was lit.
My Instagram inbox was flooded. All of it—the same words, different names.
You got raped and this is how you repay Vivian for helping you? Trying to kill her kid too?
The bitch was just trying to steal someone else’s family. Pathetic.
The notification pings came one after another, filling the tiny hospital room.
Under the thin blanket, a warm wetness spread beneath me.
My pelvis tightened. Low, deep, pulling. A cramp that kept coming, kept going, kept coming again.
The blood was still leaving me.
Then, the phone screen flashed with Nate’s name.
“Claire. Where are you?”
“Her fever still hasn’t broken. That’s on you.”
My throat was so dry the words came out wrong. Yet I said it anyway. I wanted him to feel it too. The way it was tearing through me.
“Hospital. I just lost—”
“Don’t play that card to dodge this,” his voice cut in, sharp and impatient.
“The doctors at the studio already cleared you. And we’re at the hospital right now too. Don’t lie to me.”
I looked around at the peeling wallpaper and the dim, yellow fluorescent bulb humming overhead.
Someone had found me on the sidewalk and dragged me into this run-down, nameless clinic.
He didn’t let me speak again.
His voice dropped, lower, slower, that tone he used when he was done pretending.
“You’ll accept your sister and that child eventually. Do some real thinking. I want the next version of you to have some actual sense.”
The line went dead.
The dial tone buzzed in my ear. Hollow. Endless. Mechanical.
But the phone kept buzzing. Those malicious messages kept coming. One after another.
I pressed my palms hard against my ears, squeezed my eyes shut. The chimes still came—through my hands, through my skull—but they were getting quieter.
Or my hands were pressing harder. Or I stopped hearing it. I couldn’t tell anymore.
The clinic was quiet now.
Just the hum of the old refrigerator down the hall. Just the drip of something somewhere.
Then the light in the doorway went dark.
Footsteps followed. Someone’s boots squeaked on the linoleum, stepping closer.
A beam hit my eyes before I could turn, white, blinding, cutting straight through my head.
“They told me it’d stay quiet,” his voice rasped, thick and hot against my face.
My breath caught. He was the same man from that night. The same man who raped me.
Now his breath hit my cheek. So sour. So close. “Now it’s all over the news. Cops crawling everywhere looking for me.”
Every hair on my body stood on end.