Red Carpet Revenge

While browsing through the mall, a group of women closed in around me.

The one who was leading them was a familiar face: Fiona Lambert, my husband Charlie Skyhawk's newly announced girlfriend.

"There's the shameless homewrecker! Let's teach her a lesson!" Fiona's voice sliced through the crowd.

Before I could process what was happening, a stinging slap landed across my face.

Fiona folded her arms, looking down at me with a scornful smile. "You're Destiny Mckinney, aren't you? You knew Charlie was my boyfriend, yet you dared to go after him?"

"Don't waste your breath, Fiona," one of her followers sneered. "Everyone hates a mistress—let's make sure she can't show her face in public again."

Instinctively, I shielded my belly, heart pounding.

"Wait, I'm pregnant," I stuttered. "Would you really—?"

But Fiona's face turned icy, her eyes full of contempt. "Pregnant? You had the audacity to get pregnant with his child? So that's why Charlie left me—because of you and your baby?"

I shook my head, desperate to explain. "No, you're the other woman! I'm his—"

My words were cut short by her kick to my belly.

A wave of agony radiated through me, stealing my breath as cold sweat broke across my skin.

Her lackeys landed more kicks on me.

I staggered from the pain, still trying to protect my stomach, terrified of what they might do to my child.

Fiona's mocking voice echoed around me. "Trying to use a baby to climb your way up, huh? I'll make sure you go nowhere but down."

A shiver ran through me as she laughed, dark and twisted. I instinctively took a few steps back.

But just as I tried to move away, the women surrounding her grabbed me, yanking my arms and legs, holding me in place.

Fiona's expression twisted even further, like a demon savoring her cruelty. "You think you can just go around stealing other people's boyfriends? And then have the nerve to get pregnant?"

Her voice rose to a scream. "I'm sending you and that child of yours straight to hell today!"

Blows rained down on me, one after another, and I tasted blood as it pooled at the back of my throat. Words clung to my lips, unspoken. I wanted to scream, to tell her the truth—that I was Charlie's hidden wife, and she was the one who'd broken into our marriage.

It had only been weeks since I'd seen the announcement on social media: Charlie and Fiona, arm in arm, in a post that went viral.

I'd called him immediately, demanding answers, but he brushed me off with practiced indifference. "The production team wanted us to do some PR to boost the show's ratings," he'd said, his tone dismissive. "It's just for the press, Destiny. We'll break it off after the show airs."

I had protested, and his voice had turned sharp, impatient. "Destiny, when are you going to stop making this a big deal? It's just an act; it's not real."

Fiona grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head down to the cold, hard floor. I felt something wet and sticky trail down my face; blood, mingling with the sweat and tears.

I barely had the strength to resist before her foot struck my belly again.

I doubled over, agony ripping through me as tears spilled uncontrollably. My child. The child I'd longed for, fought so hard to keep safe—I felt my baby slipping away, bit by bit.

Through my haze of pain, I saw Fiona dialing her phone. She put it on speaker, and flashed a smile so smug it made my stomach turn.

"Hey, what's up?" Charlie's warm voice flowed through the phone, oblivious.

Fiona giggled, her voice sugar-coated. "If I taught a certain homewrecker a lesson, would you be mad at me?"

He chuckled softly, as if indulging her. "If you had to hit someone, you should've let someone else handle it," he replied. "Did your hand get hurt?"