He Shared My Pregnancy Pics — I Ended His Bloodline

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When my guaranteed graduate school admission was revoked, my roommates fully believed the rumors.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

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