After the Livestream Betrayal, I Chose My Stepbrother

Two pink lines.

I stared at the plastic wand resting on the edge of the bathroom sink. The fluorescent light buzzed overhead, casting a harsh glare on the undeniable result.

Pregnant.

A baby. Ryan and I were going to have a baby.

My phone vibrated against the marble counter, vibrating so hard it nearly fell into the basin. I snatched it up.

"Are you wearing the blue tie or the black one?" I asked, pinning the device between my ear and shoulder as I reached for my mascara.

"Black. Damien likes professional, right?" Ryan’s voice filtered through the speaker, smooth and endlessly confident.

"My brother likes honesty." I capped the mascara tube. "Just be yourself. He already knows you make me happy."

"I want to make sure he knows I can take care of you. We’re meeting him at the steakhouse at seven. Don't be late."

"I'm ready right now. Love you, Ryan."

"Love you too, Liv."

The line clicked dead. I smiled at my reflection, pressing a hand flat against my lower stomach. Damien was going to grill him tonight. My older brother never made it easy for anyone I dated, but Ryan was different. Ryan was the man I was going to marry. I planned to drop the baby news over dessert.

The doorbell rang.

I grabbed my purse from the bed and hurried down the hallway. Ryan was early.

I swung the front door open, a greeting already on my lips. "You beat the traffic—"

The words died in my throat.

Lily Monroe stood on my porch. She wore a tight leather jacket and a smirk that didn't reach her cold, dark eyes. We had run in the same social circles for a year, but we were far from friends.

"Lily? What are you doing here?"

"Saving you from making the biggest mistake of your life." She pushed past me, stepping right into my foyer without an invitation.

"Excuse me?" I spun around, grabbing the heavy brass handle of the door. "You can't just barge into my house."

"And you can't marry a sociopath." Lily pulled her phone out of her pocket. "But here we are."

"I don't have time for your jealousy today. Ryan and I are having dinner with Damien tonight."

"Oh, a family dinner." Lily tapped her screen, her nails clicking against the glass. "How sweet. Is that before or after you tell your big, scary brother that you're knocked up?"

My fingers slipped off the door handle. The floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet.

"How do you know about that?" I demanded.

"Because your perfect boyfriend brags about it."

"You're lying."

"Am I?" Lily held the phone up between us. "I sat in the booth right behind him and his frat buddies at the bar last night. He had a few too many shots. People get real honest when they drink."

"Get out of my house." I pointed toward the porch.

"Listen to it first."

"I said, leave!"

Lily pressed play anyway.

Static scratched from the tiny speaker, followed by the heavy bass of bar music and the clinking of glasses. Then came a voice. Unmistakable. Familiar. The same voice that had just told me he loved me five minutes ago.

*"She took the test this morning. Left the wrapper in the trash."* Ryan’s recorded voice sounded amused. Arrogant.

Another man laughed loudly. *"Damn, man. You really trapped her, huh? What if she finds out about the other girls and leaves?"*

*"Leave?"* Ryan scoffed. The sound was sharp enough to cut glass. *"Once Olivia gets pregnant, she won't dare leave me. If she aborts the baby, she'll just be a piece of unwanted secondhand trash. Who else would take her?"*

The recording cut off.

Silence swallowed the entryway.

The phone screen went dark in Lily’s hand. She crossed her arms, tilting her head at me.

"Still want to introduce him to your brother?" she asked.

My chest caved in. The walls of the hallway pressed closer, suffocating the air out of the room. The man I loved. The man I was building a future with. He didn't view me as a partner. He viewed me as property. A hostage.

"Where did you get that?" I whispered, my voice dangerously level.

"I told you. The bar."

"Why are you showing me this?"

"Because I know what it’s like to be his trash." Lily’s smirk finally faded, leaving behind something hard and bitter. "I figured you deserved to know before you let him put a ring on your finger."

"Leave."

"Olivia, I'm trying to—"

"Get out!" I shoved her shoulder, forcing her backward over the threshold.

Lily stumbled onto the porch, raising her hands in surrender. "Fine. But don't say nobody warned you."

I slammed the door in her face.

The heavy thud echoed through the empty house.

I leaned my back against the solid wood, sliding down until I hit the floor. My knees pulled up to my chest.

*Unwanted secondhand trash.*

I expected the tears to come. I expected my hands to shake, for my heart to shatter into a million jagged pieces. I waited for the overwhelming grief of a broken heart.

Instead, a dry, harsh laugh clawed its way up my throat.

It started small, a pathetic chuckle, but it grew louder. I laughed until my ribs ached, until the sound bounced off the walls and filled the silence.

He didn't love me. He wanted to own me. He wanted to break me down so completely that I would never have the strength to walk away. He thought a baby would chain me to him forever.

He thought I was weak.

My phone buzzed inside my purse. I dug it out.

*Damien: At the restaurant. Got us a table in the back. Where are you guys?*

I stared at the text message. Damien would kill him. If I told my brother what Ryan had said, Damien would rip him apart with his bare hands.

But that would be too easy for Ryan.

Headlights flashed through the front window, sweeping across the living room wall. Tires crunched over the gravel in the driveway.

Ryan was here.

I pushed myself off the floor. I smoothed the wrinkles out of my dress and walked straight into the kitchen. I opened the trash can, pulled out the empty pregnancy test wrapper, and set it squarely in the middle of the kitchen island. Right next to a heavy, steel-handled carving knife.

Keys jingled in the front door lock.

The heavy door swung open.

"Liv? You ready?" Ryan called out, his footsteps heavy in the hall.

I wiped the last trace of a smile off my face.

"In the kitchen," I answered.

Ryan turned the corner, dressed in a sharp gray suit and the black tie I had picked out. He looked handsome. He looked like the perfect gentleman.

"We need to get moving," he said, checking his watch. "Damien hates it when people are late."

His eyes drifted from my face down to the kitchen island. They locked onto the crumpled foil wrapper.

His jaw tightened.

"Ryan," I said, picking up the carving knife to inspect the blade. "We need to have a little chat before we go."