Chapter 5
950 Words
MICHELLE’S POV
I don’t wait for the man to catch up with me. I make a run for it immediately.
My breath comes in short, desperate gasps as I sprint through the alleyway. As I run, my heart slams against my ribs like a caged animal trying to break free. The night air is thick, suffocating. I don’t dare look back—I can hear the heavy footsteps behind me, closing in.
A hand snatches my arm, pulling me backward with brutal force. I scream, but the sound barely escapes my throat before his fingers clamp around my neck. Panic explodes inside me like fireworks. My hands claw at his, but his grip tightens, cutting off my air supply. My lungs burn, and my vision begins to blur.
No, no, no!
I struggle with everything I have but he’s too strong. Darkness creeps at the edges of my mind. I feel my strength slipping away. My knees buckle and my body weakens as my life is being squeezed out of me.
Then, suddenly—
The pressure around my throat vanishes. I collapse to the cold pavement, choking and coughing as air rushes back into my lungs. My entire body shudders, and I roll onto my side, sucking in oxygen like it’s the only thing connecting me to life.
I hear the sound of fists colliding. I hear a grunt, then a loud thud. My rescuer stands over the man who attacked me. He turns to me with eyes full of concern.
"Are you okay?" His voice is deep but it’s a bit soft.
I nod, but the truth is, I’m anything but okay. My throat aches, my body trembles, and my mind is still trapped in the terrifying moment.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He kneels beside me, offering a hand. "I'm Lukas. Detective Lukas Carter. I need to get you somewhere safe. Can you stand?"
I hesitate before taking his hand, and he pulls me up carefully “I—yeah, I think so.”
The man who attacked me is groaning on the ground, and another officer appears, securing him in cuffs. I don’t even want to look at him.
Lukas guides me to his car, opening the passenger door for me. “Let’s get you to the station. We need to talk about what happened.”
I sit in silence as we drive. My mind races as I stare out the window. The shock is wearing off, but it leaves behind a deep feeling of fear. Who would do this to me? And why?
-
At the station, Lukas sits across from me in a small room. A bottle of water is placed in front of me, but my hands are shaking too much to open it. Lukas notices and twists off the cap, placing it in my hands.
“Drink,” he says softly.
I take small sips, letting the liquid soothe my raw throat.
“Tell me everything you remember,” he urges me.
I tell him about the night in a trembling voice—how my fiancé called off the wedding, the photos and me tracking down the man.
The fear tightens around my chest again, but I push through it. “I—I think I was drugged in those photos.”
Lukas’ jaw tightens. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
The door opens, and another officer walks in with the man who attacked me—now handcuffed and looking miserable. Lukas leans forward. “You’re going to tell us everything.”
The man shifts. He looks hesitant at first but after a long silence, he speaks. “We were paid.”
My blood runs cold.
Lukas doesn’t flinch. “By who?”
The man swallows hard “A woman. Blonde, pretty, expensive clothes. She has a bird tattoo on her chest. She wanted us to drug her… make it look like we had s*x with her.”
The world tilts. My stomach drops.
No.
No, it can’t be.
I force my mouth to work. “Did she have a name?”
“I don’t know. But she… she looked like you.”
Lukas and I exchange a glance. A name is already forming in my mind before he even asks.
There’s only one person who matches that description perfectly.
Nessa.
My stepsister.
Bile rises in my throat.
“What about a man?” Lukas presses. “Was there anyone else?”
“There was… but I didn’t see him well.”
I clutch my arms. My body is cold despite the warm room. Betrayal sinks its claws into me.
I can’t help the tears that fall down my eyes. Nessa is literally my family. Why would she do this? Why?
Lukas studies me carefully. “Do you know who it could be?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I think it’s my stepsister.”
His brows furrow, and I can see the gears turning in his mind. “We’ll look into her.”
I nod, but inside, I feel like I’m shattering.
-
The next morning, I wake up feeling horrible. My stomach twists violently, and I barely make it to the bathroom before I’m throwing up. My body feels weak and my head throbs. Something isn’t right.
After washing my face, I stare at my reflection. My skin is pale, my eyes tired. My gut twists with unease. This isn’t just stress. This is something else.
A few hours later, I sit in a hospital room. My heart pounds as the doctor reviews my test results.
She looks up “Miss Michelle, you’re pregnant.”
The room spins.
“What?” I whisper
Pregnant?
- Writer
