Pregnant With Her Ex's Baby After Marriage

Chapter Two: Who's Pretending Here?

Emily felt her consciousness slipping away, her body burning up.

"Heh heh, can't take it anymore, huh? Don't worry, babe, your daddy here will make you feel real good in a moment."

In a corner just around the bar, the bald man couldn't wait any longer.

Emily could only instinctively wave her hand and mumble, "Back off, get lost."

Just as she managed to undo her belt, her shoulder was firmly gripped.

The bald man turned his head and said, "Who the hell is ruining my fun? Can't you see I'm busy?"

But the next moment, he was knocked out cold.

"Take her to the police station. Charge, your call."

"Yes, Mr. Miller."

Emily leaned against the wall, her body now free from restraint, and she collapsed to the ground, clutching her chest and gasping for air.

Arthur Miller glanced at the woman before him. She had quite the figure.

He chuckled softly, his voice tinged with disdain.

"Emily, you've certainly made quite a name for yourself since we parted ways."

After saying that, he picked up the woman and tossed her onto a car.

With her hazy eyes, Emily glanced at the man before her and leaned her head in close, mumbling softly, "Uncomfortable."

She blinked and tried to focus on the man in front of her. "You look kinda familiar, do we know each other?"

Her consciousness was fading, and she couldn't even recognize the man right in front of her.

Arthur looked at her, his expression darkening.

Emily sat slumped in place, wriggling and twisting, her body burning up, and she felt extremely uncomfortable.

"So hot, so hot..."

Her words were slurred, and she blushed as her tiny straps were pulled down, revealing her fair breasts.

The man's face grew even darker.

Emily was thrown onto a pristine white bed with such force that the pain furrowed her brow, and she struggled to sit up.

The man looked at her coldly, his hands moving to undo his belt.

Just as Emily, who had managed to sit halfway up, was about to escape, the weight of the man pressed her back onto the bed.

The sudden pressure made her slightly more sober. She saw a blurry figure above her and squinted her eyes, trying to get a clear view of the person.

"Since you've been played by others, why bother pretending to be modest?" Arthur said coldly, his voice icy.

With just one sentence, he declared her guilt, and it was brutal!

His words, combined with his tone, struck her heart.

This voice...

So familiar.

But the burning sensation inside her made it hard for her to think. She wanted to figure out who this person was, but her head was spinning.

"Let go of me," she managed to say, her brain instinctively focusing on the owner of that voice.

"Emily, it's been a few years, and your husband hasn't satisfied you? Making you so promiscuous. Selling your charms in a place like that," he said with a mocking tone.

She couldn't understand what he was saying. "Just let me go..."

The fire in his eyes suddenly flared, and he forcefully pulled down her pants and pressed down on her body.

The intoxicated Emily knew she was in trouble.

She also realized that something was wrong with her body. Even though it was her first day working in a place like that, she knew the risks. The burning sensation inside her reminded her of something dreadful: she had been drugged.

A faint smirk curled on the man's lips.

Emily, did you ever think you'd end up like this when you left me so decisively?

Without any tenderness, he entered her, as if it were punishment.

Punishment for the ridiculous things she had done to him back then.

Punishment for her heartlessness, for leaving him so cruelly for money.

The moment he entered, the woman cried out in agony, her pale face filled with pain.

Arthur paused for a moment, a strange gleam in his dark eyes.

Her body quivered.

This couldn't be. Three years ago, Emily had married the eldest son of the Hill family.

Why was she still so tight?

Heh...

It was amusing.

His thin lips curved slightly, and he leaned into her.

In the pitch-black room, on the pristine white bed, two figures entwined tightly.

The man moved vigorously over the woman's body, and her painful cries gradually turned to low sobbing.

At last, the whimpering died away, leaving only the heavy gasp of the man.

And the night was long...