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“Layla, after consideration by the administration, your guaranteed graduate school admission has been revoked.”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

In the gynecology exam room, I stepped down from the operating table, my face pale.

The doctor wrote out a prescription while scolding me right in front of everyone.

“Next time, use protection.”

“Only twenty-one and already getting an abortion—did you think about today when you were enjoying yourself?”

With every word, the people in the room looked me up and down.

My hands tightened at my sides, and I grabbed the medicine before fleeing in embarrassment.

On my way out, I bumped into a male doctor.

He glanced at the scattered report on the floor, then looked me over from head to toe.

I couldn’t take it—I snatched up the report and ran.

The moment I stepped out of the hospital, the first thing I saw was Adrian Scott.

Next to a black sedan, Adrian was opening the door for a woman in a wheelchair.

She tilted her head up and kissed him on the lips.

Adrian leaned down, ruffling her hair with gentle affection.

...

I knew that woman.

Bella Scott, the so-called princess of New York City, Adrian’s full-blooded younger sister, the one he’d spoiled all her life.

But just now, they had kissed on the mouth.

A wave of nausea rose in my throat.

I didn’t dare think too deeply about how much Adrian had kept from me.

When I turned, Adrian caught sight of me.

His expression flickered before he said something to the person in the car and walked toward me.

“Layla, was this the hospital you booked for your prenatal check-up? How did it go?”

I stared at him coldly without answering.

Looking at this man I thought I knew, I realized I had never truly known him at all.

He was the one who had pulled me back from the edge of death.

And the one who had destroyed me two years ago.

“Layla, let me explain—my relationship with her isn’t what you think.”

Adrian was quick—he instantly realized I’d seen them kiss.

If it were before, I might have listened.

But now, I wouldn’t believe a word.

“Adrian, we’re done.”

I found myself picking at my hand again, reopening wounds that had barely healed.

Adrian noticed.

He cupped my hands in his, stopping me from hurting myself.

“Don’t be afraid, Layla. I’m here. Relax, breathe.”

I froze.

Ever since I dropped out of school, I’d developed the habit of skin-picking whenever I was under stress.

At its worst, there wasn’t a single unbroken patch on my hands—sometimes I’d even break skin on my arms.

Back then, Adrian would always do this—hold my hands and tell me, over and over, that he was there.

Now, trembling all over, I used every ounce of strength to shove him away.

“Get away from me! Don’t touch me!!”

“Adrian! How long are you going to keep pretending?!”

Maybe my outburst was too much—pain from the recent abortion flared violently in my abdomen.

I tried to stand; I didn’t want to seem weak before him.

But the pain was too sharp, making me want to vomit.

I couldn’t take it—I crouched down, clutching my stomach.

For once, Adrian’s composure cracked, replaced by panic.

He scooped me up and rushed toward the hospital.

But in the next moment, Bella tumbled out of the car, gasping for air.

“Adrian, I can’t breathe… take me home, I don’t want to stay here.”

Hesitation flashed in his eyes, and a few seconds later, he set me down at the hospital entrance.

“Bella’s having an asthma attack. I’ll take her home first.”

“Layla, I’ll explain this later.”

Without another word, he ran back to her.

As he lifted her into his arms, Bella looped both arms around her brother’s neck.

She shot me a nasty smile before I watched Adrian drive away.

I couldn’t hold out any longer and collapsed.

When I woke again, I was in a hospital room.

It was empty except for the steady drip of an IV.

As I sat up in silence, my hand brushed against something on the bed—a small voice recorder.

A sticky note was attached, with two words written on it: Play me.

I pressed the button.

Immediately, Bella’s voice filled the air.

“Adrian, Layla’s pregnant with your child. Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen for her?”

Adrian’s tone sounded distracted.

“No. I’m just playing around with her.”

Bella’s voice was sweet and casual.

“Good. I’m bored of her too.

Three days from now, on your anniversary, you propose—then quietly tell her the truth. Tell her it was you who took her virginity, and you who spread those rumors on campus. I want to watch her reaction in person.

They say if you crush someone at their happiest moment, it can drive them insane~”

Adrian was silent for a long time before answering.

“Fine.”

The recording cut off.

I automatically started picking at my hand before realizing my fingers were icy cold.

The chill spread from my heart through every inch of my body.

I bent forward slowly, as if I could press the pain out of my chest, but it didn’t work.

The anguish was everywhere.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I clutched the recorder and sobbed.

When I returned home from the hospital, Adrian arrived almost at the same time.

Seeing me unharmed, he seemed relieved.

“Layla, about what happened at the hospital—”

“No need to explain. I don’t want to hear it.”

His brow furrowed for a second, then smoothed.

He took out a red velvet jewelry box, revealing a ruby necklace.

“I saw this on the way home and thought you’d like it.”

I stared at it without reaching for it.

When my guaranteed graduate school admission was revoked, my roommates fully believed the rumors.

They poured red paint all over my bed and scrawled “slut” and “STD” across it.

Even after I cleaned it, new insults would appear.

In the end, I moved into a single dorm room, only to find “public property” and “community bike” spray-painted on the door.

Since then, I’ve hated red.

Adrian knew that.

I took the necklace and tossed it into the trash.

“Adrian, you know exactly why I don’t like red.”

His smile froze.

He stepped forward to hug me, but I moved away.

“I’m tired. I’m going to my room.”

I turned, but he grabbed my arm hard.

His face was dark, his voice a near growl.

“Layla! What the hell is going on with you?

You won’t listen to my explanation, you won’t take my gift—what exactly do you want?”

In the past, I would have backed down immediately, terrified he’d lose patience with me.

After all, he’d saved me once, and for a long time, he was all I had.

But now, that didn’t matter.

I pulled my arm free and pointed to my stomach.

“I’m pregnant. I’m tired.”

A flicker of panic crossed his eyes before he let go.

As I walked away, he called after me and handed me the necklace he’d picked up.

“I’m sorry, Layla. I lost my temper. Keep it. The past should stay in the past, and I’ll always be here for you from now on.”

Was he really telling me to let it go?