The Luckiest Mistake of My Life

Chapter 8 He Sent Us to 'Take Care' of You

　　Looking at the busy streets, Evelyn absentmindedly placed a hand on her own stomach. There was life growing inside her too. Finally, a small, barely-there smile cracked through the numbness on her face.

　　Baby, even if your dad doesn't want you, I still do. I always will.

　　She stood there lost in thought, completely oblivious to the strange pair of eyes watching her from a corner just behind her.

　　Suddenly, a hand clamped over her mouth, dragging her into a dark alley.

　　"Mmph... Who... what are you doing... mmph—!"

　　She was thrown roughly onto the ground inside a dark, dingy room. Her body slammed against the cold concrete. Instinctively, she curled her arms around her stomach to protect the baby. The pain shot straight up from her elbow.

　　Evelyn grit her teeth, trying to bear it. She glanced around—five, maybe six men, all wearing cheap knock-off clothes, faces marked with deep and shallow scars.

　　One of them, a scar-faced guy, stared at her exposed skin—her shirt had torn.

　　Evelyn noticed his gaze and instinctively scurried back.

　　"Mrs. Jackson—oh wait, not anymore. Now you're just a stray mutt," the scar-faced man mocked, cackling.

　　"Who the hell are you people?!"

　　He crouched in front of her, his rough hand grazing her cheek, eyes full of lewd hunger as he raked his gaze over her figure.

　　"Evelyn, you little slut. Quit acting all innocent. Wanna know the truth? Your ex sent us here—to 'take care' of you. Cooperate and, who knows, you might even enjoy it."

　　She shook her head, her voice trembling. "That's not possible... We're over. He wouldn't..."

　　Scarface laughed loud, clearly amused. "Even if you end up on the street, he still hates you. Remember when you made Gina lose her baby? Yeah—he hasn't forgotten. Call it karma. Why would he let you off easy?"

　　"No... no..." Her face turned ghostly pale, and she started backing away in panic. "Don't... stay away from me!"

　　Her terrified gaze, like a frightened deer, only fueled the men's aggression.

　　Scarface lunged, grabbing her ankles. She kicked—hard—hitting him square in the face.

　　"b***h!" he cursed, yanking her hair and dragging her backward.

　　The others, their stares glued to the torn parts of her clothing, reached out toward her without a trace of restraint.

　　Evelyn felt utterly humiliated. She bit her lip hard, staying silent, terrified that he might harm her baby.

　　"Good girl. That's more like it," Scarface said, clearly satisfied with her silence. "Strip her. Then do as you please. But if our princess here isn't happy—someone's dying tonight."

　　With that, they all closed in. Grins twisted across their faces. Two or three pinned her down.

　　"Don't touch me, don't—you can't!" Evelyn shouted in a panic, thrashing wildly. But her limbs were firmly held down. The cold air hit her bare skin like icy needles.