'I Do' For Revenge-Chapter 88: My Baby

~CASSANDRA~

A few hours ago...

I woke to my phone buzzing incessantly on the nightstand. Groaning, I reached for it, squinting at the screen. Fifteen missed calls from my father. Twenty-three notifications from various news apps.

"What now?" I muttered, opening the first article.

"Watson Heiress Cassandra Hart Caught Admitting Knowledge of ’Fake’ Data Breach"

My stomach dropped.

The video of me, outside the venue, asking Layla about the fake data breach press release, was everywhere. My own words, captured in crystal clear audio, played back on repeat across every social media platform.

"No, no, no..."

My phone rang again. Father.

"Hello?"

"Get to the house. Now." His voice was ice. "We need to talk about your spectacular failure last night."

The line went dead.

—

About an hour later, I stood in my father’s study, my hands protectively cradling my belly. He sat behind his massive desk, his face carved from stone.

"Do you have any idea what you’ve done?" His voice was quiet, which somehow made it worse. "Any idea at all?" he asked, standing up and coming around the table.

"Father, I didn’t mean..."

"You didn’t mean to confess on camera that we orchestrated a fake data breach? You didn’t mean to hand Layla O’Brien the perfect ammunition to destroy us?"

"I was angry! She was being so smug, and I just..."

The slap came without warning, stinging across my cheek. I stumbled back, my hand flying to my face.

"You foolish girl!" he roared. "What were you even doing there in the first place? Uhn??Your mistake is going to cost us everything! Watson Enterprises’ reputation, our client relationships, and potentially criminal charges!"

Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "I can fix this."

"Fix it? How exactly do you plan to fix this, Cassandra? The video has been viewed over two million times!"

"I’ll figure something out. I always do."

He went back to his desk, standing with his hands resting flat on the surface. "You’d better. Because if you don’t, if this blows back on Watson Enterprises, I will cut you off. Completely. No trust fund, no company shares, nothing. You’ll be on your own with that baby of yours. We both know Dan is barely surviving on his own."

The words hit harder than the slap. "You wouldn’t."

"Try me. Now tell me, what about the sample? Do we at least have something useful from all this disaster?"

I swallowed hard. "Daniel’s taking it to the lab today. They’ll reverse engineer the formula, create something similar we can rush to market."

"It better work. That’s the only leverage we have left; they are still handling pre-orders. But we can beat them to market with a comparable product."

He sat back down, dismissing me with a wave. "Now get out of my sight and fix your mess."

I made it to my car, and that’s when the tears started flowing. My cheek was still stinging, but my pride felt even worse. I sat there for a moment, breathing heavily, with my hand resting on my belly.

I stared down at my now-round belly as my father’s words echoed in my head. "No trust fund, no company shares, nothing. You’ll be on your own with that baby of yours."

I pulled out my phone and dialled her number. "Hello?"

"You did well yesterday with the samples," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "But there are some holes we need to cover up. So you’re up again."

"What do you need?"

"Here’s what I want you to do." I laid out the plan carefully. "Just let me know where she’d be and when."

"Consider it done."

"Good."

I hung up, started the car, and headed home, waiting for the signal I needed.

About two hours later, I got a text: She’s leaving for the office soon, get ready.

I got ready, made a few calls to finalise some arrangements, and then drove to the main town, heading to O’Brien Group headquarters.

At first, I had thought of having someone else do the dirty work, so I could stay clean. But as I thought about Layla’s smug face, about my father’s slap, about how everything was falling apart, something snapped inside me.

Why should I let someone else have the satisfaction?

I parked a few blocks away from the building, positioning my car where I had a clear view of the parking garage exit. Then I waited, my hands gripping the steering wheel, my heart pounding.

This was reckless. Dangerous. Stupid, even. But I was past caring about smart choices. I wanted Layla to hurt the way I was hurting. I wanted her to feel what it was like to lose everything.

An hour passed. Then another. Just when I was starting to think she’d taken a different exit, I saw her car pulling out of the garage, followed by a dark SUV. Security.

"There you are," I breathed.

I started my engine and pulled into traffic several cars behind. My hands were steady now, and my mind crystal clear.

I followed her through the downtown streets, staying back, watching. The security car was close but not too close. They wouldn’t be able to react in time if I moved fast enough.

As we approached the intersection I’d scouted earlier, I took a deep breath. "This is it."

I buckled my seatbelt tighter, checked my mirrors, and pressed down on the accelerator. My car surged forward, weaving between vehicles. Horns blared, but I didn’t care.

Layla’s car was just ahead now. I could see her profile through the window, probably oblivious to it.

"This is for everything you’ve taken from me," I hissed.

I jerked the steering wheel hard to the right, slamming into her car with all the force I could muster. The impact jolted through my entire body, but the seatbelt held me in place.

Metal screamed against metal.

She tried to correct, but I hit her again, harder this time. Her car spun wildly, tyres shrieking. Other vehicles swerved to avoid us. My own car fishtailed, and suddenly I was spinning too.

My car hit something... a guardrail? and came to a violent stop. My head snapped forward despite the seatbelt, pain exploding through my skull. The airbag deployed, filling the air with white powder.

For a moment, I just sat there, dazed, my ears ringing. Then I coughed, tasting blood. My vision swam as I fumbled with the seatbelt, finally managing to release it.

I had to get out... had to play the victim.

I pushed the door open and half-fell, half-climbed out of the car. People were already running toward us, phones out, shouting. I stumbled forward, one hand on my belly, the other reaching for support.

"Help," I managed to say. "Please, someone help..."

That’s when I felt something strange. I looked down and saw blood running down my legs. "No..." My voice came out as a whisper. "No, no, no..."

My knees gave way, and I collapsed. Someone caught me, but their voice sounded far away and muffled through the ringing in my ears.

"My baby," I gasped, looking up at the stranger’s concerned face. "Why am I bleeding? Did something happen to my baby?"