The Fake Marriage, the Real Mistress, and the Baby He Wants Me to Abort Chapter 5
The venue exploded into chaos. Julian stood at the altar, frozen like the floor had split open beneath him and he didn’t know where to step.
Then instinct kicked in. He bolted for the stairs, shoving through the crowd, searching for me.
He skidded to a stop at the hotel entrance. His mother was standing right there the woman who’d been in a coma for a decade – gripping the hands of two biracial boys and trying to disappear into herself.
His eyes went wide. He staggered back a step, then tore his gaze away and kept running. He had to find me first.
“Claire Bennett!” His voice cracked on my name.
He found the spot where I’d fallen – four stories down into the open back of a garbage truck. When he saw me sitting upright in it, the tension in his shoulders snapped loose.
“Claire
Wyatt and the guys were just messing around. They wouldn’t have actually touched you, not without my say-so-”
He was scrambling for words, eyes rimmed red. Then his voice dropped.
“What’s… why is my mother here?”
I watched the fear crawl across his face – the fear of hearing what he already knew. I climbed down from the truck and looked him dead in the eyes.
“Julian, you spent half a decade calling me a homewrecker’s daughter. But you had no idea, did you?”
“Your mother handpicked mine. She never gave a damn about your father.”
–
“She doesn’t even love you. The whole thing every tear, every breakdown was theater for your grandfather’s inheritance.”
“A decade ago, she didn’t collapse from heartbreak.”
“She was pregnant. She wanted out and she ran to the man she actually loved.”
“She threw you away a decade ago. And everything happening to you right now? You earned it.”
I pulled out my phone, held it up so he could see the screen, and dialed 911.
Police cruisers arrived within minutes. They hauled Julian and every one of his friends away.
The wedding collapsed into chaos. My mother wrapped a coat around my shoulders, tears streaming down her face, and guided me into the ambulance.
I spent three days in the hospital. The morning I was discharged, my mother came to my room. Her face was white.
“Claire, I failed you. I know that.”
“But after your father died – a woman alone in a town like that I couldn’t survive on my own.”
“You don’t know what it was like. Men showing up at the house at night, jiggling the doors, climbing the fence – I was terrified.”
Her tears fell. She pressed a bag into my hands.
“Your passport’s in there. And five million dollars – everything I’ve been putting away for you.”
“You exposed the Vance family in front of everyone. They won’t let that go.”
“Go. Get on a plane and don’t look back.”
She crushed me against her chest, then shoved me into the waiting taxi before I could argue.
“I’m so sorry, Claire. I’m so sorry for everything.”
“I thought Julian was different. I thought he’d take care of you.”
The taxi pulled away. My mother’s voice faded behind me until the street swallowed it. I gripped the bag in my lap. My phone rang.
“Claire, my mom had a breakdown – she couldn’t handle the truth. That’s what happened. She’s been in a
coma for a decade.”
“She… there’s no way she just woke up.”
“That’s impossible. She can’t have – there’s no way she had twins -”
His voice was falling apart on the other end.
I let him finish. Then I hung up. The taxi headed straight for the airport.
He called again. And again. And again. I rejected every one, then blocked his number.
–
The group chat – the one his friends had dragged me into exploded.
[Holy shit Julian’s lost it!]
Videos started flooding the chat, one after another.
Julian had walked out of the police station and straight into his mother and the twin boys.
The second the boys spotted him, they charged. One of them kicked him hard in the shin.
[So you’re our brother?]
[Mom says you’re loaded. She says when you die, we get everything.]
They said it like they were reciting a grocery list. Julian’s expression darkened with every word.
They yanked at his clothes, swearing at him in a language he didn’t understand.
Julian’s jaw locked. He kicked both boys off him.
His eyes were bloodshot. He turned on his mother – but before he could speak, she slapped him across the face.
“Julian, those are your brothers!”
“How dare you touch them!”
“I thought marriage would’ve knocked some sense into you, but you’re as cruel as ever.”
“Faking that coma was the best decision I ever made.”
Julian stood there, the handprint burning on his cheek. Then something snapped. He grabbed both boys by the throat.
Chloe ran up behind him and grabbed for his arm. He threw her to the ground without looking.
[Something is seriously wrong with Julian – does anyone know where Claire is?]
[Find her NOW – whenever Julian gets like this, she’s the only one who can get through to him!]
[Found her! Found her!]
[She’s at the airport – she’s leaving the country!]
The messages kept coming. I wasn’t really reading them anymore. The taxi had pulled up to the terminal.
I stepped out, pried the SIM card from my phone, snapped it between my fingers, and dropped the pieces in a trash can.
I was in the security line when the crash split the air behind me.
“There’s been an accident!”
“Somebody call an ambulance!”
Julian dragged himself out of the wreckage, blood sheeting down his face.
“Claire – how long have you known?”
“Why didn’t you tell me…”