His Side Chick Made Him Dump Me… 100 Times! Now Watch Him Beg! - Chapter 71: Chapter 71
You are reading His Side Chick Made Him Dump Me… 100 Times! Now Watch Him Beg!, Chapter 71: Chapter 71. Read more chapters of His Side Chick Made Him Dump Me… 100 Times! Now Watch Him Beg!.
Derek ripped open the envelope. Inside were several photographs.
When I looked closer, I nearly threw up. They showed me in bed with my boss Patterson, his hand on my bare shoulder in what looked like a hotel room.
The next photos were even worse—me in compromising positions with various men I'd never seen before, all graphic and damning.
I shook with rage.
"These are fake. Complete fabrications."
I grabbed Derek's arm desperately.
"You believe me, right? You have to know this isn't real!"
But Derek yanked his arm away, his voice breaking.
"How much more are you hiding from me?"
I tried frantically to explain.
"None of this is real! I never—"
Derek shoved me away, shouting.
"You and that pervert ended up at the police station together, and I was stupid enough to believe your innocent act!"
I shook my head, tears streaming down my face.
"The stalker is framing me! These photos are obviously doctored!"
Derek let out a bitter laugh.
"When have any of his photos ever been fake? If he could Photoshop, why would he bother stalking you?"
He pulled a velvet box from his pocket—inside was a diamond ring.
"I was going to propose to you. And this is how you repay me?"
He threw the ring into the trash.
"Get out. Just get the hell out of my sight!"
He stormed off before I could stop him.
Katie sighed sadly.
"Beth, if you really love my brother, you need to prove it to him. He's stubborn as hell—he'll never forgive you otherwise."
I stared at her, lost. How do you prove something that never happened?
Looking at those photos again, pure rage consumed me.
That sick bastard wasn't just stalking me—he was destroying my life, my relationship, everything I cared about.
I searched everywhere for him but saw nothing.
"Are you happy now, you pathetic coward?" I screamed at the empty air, grabbing decorative stones and hurling them at windows.
"These photos are FAKE! All of them!"
"Come out and face me if you're so tough! You love taking pictures? Take this!"
"Just kill me already! Like I killed you before!"
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
The crowd that had been filming me with their phones suddenly stepped back in unison.
"Did she just say... murder?"
Someone picked up the photos I'd dropped.
"Looks respectable enough, but turns out she's just some side chick who lost it when she got dumped..."
"Probably mentally ill. Can't handle the pressure."
A little girl tugged on her mother's sleeve, her voice small and scared.
"Mommy, is that lady talking to ghosts?"
Seeing the child's pure, frightened eyes snapped me back to reality. I covered my face and ran.
That night, alone in my apartment, I called Derek over and over. He never picked up.
I sent him a shaky voice message.
"Derek... please, just answer your phone... Those photos are fake... I never betrayed you."
I felt so helpless, so terrified, never knowing when that psycho would strike next.
My phone buzzed—but it was a number I didn't recognize.
"Hey gorgeous, how much for the whole night? Let daddy take care of you."
I stared at the phone in confusion.
The voice continued, leering.
"Don't play innocent. We all know you're a slut who'll take anyone. If you can handle that fat pig, you can definitely handle me..."
He meant Patterson. Someone had seen those photos.
I hung up, shaking, and immediately searched for my name online.
There it was—a viral thread. Someone had posted all the photos, identified me, and leaked my phone number.
The comments were vicious.
"Always knew she was a whore. Dresses like one every day, serves her right."
"Always calling in sick, claiming photography was her 'main job' and work was just a side gig... guess we know what kind of photos she was taking."
"She tried to seduce me last time. When I wouldn't pay, she reported me for sexual harassment. Finally, the truth comes out!"
Those last comments had to be from my coworkers.
I tried to access our company chat but couldn't get in.
An email was waiting in my inbox: I'd been terminated for "moral misconduct."
"It's fake! All fake!" I sobbed, but no one would listen.
I wanted to call the police, but the thought of my crime held me back.
What if the stalker wasn't the homeless man? What if it was someone else entirely, and reporting this would expose the murder?
"No... I have to check. If that man is still alive, then I'm not a killer. Then I can call the police!"
I ran out into the night, heading straight for the woods where we'd buried the body.
I dug frantically until I found it.
The corpse was still there, rotting and maggot-infested.
I collapsed on the ground in despair.
I was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed.
Who the hell was this new stalker?!!
When I looked closer, I nearly threw up. They showed me in bed with my boss Patterson, his hand on my bare shoulder in what looked like a hotel room.
The next photos were even worse—me in compromising positions with various men I'd never seen before, all graphic and damning.
I shook with rage.
"These are fake. Complete fabrications."
I grabbed Derek's arm desperately.
"You believe me, right? You have to know this isn't real!"
But Derek yanked his arm away, his voice breaking.
"How much more are you hiding from me?"
I tried frantically to explain.
"None of this is real! I never—"
Derek shoved me away, shouting.
"You and that pervert ended up at the police station together, and I was stupid enough to believe your innocent act!"
I shook my head, tears streaming down my face.
"The stalker is framing me! These photos are obviously doctored!"
Derek let out a bitter laugh.
"When have any of his photos ever been fake? If he could Photoshop, why would he bother stalking you?"
He pulled a velvet box from his pocket—inside was a diamond ring.
"I was going to propose to you. And this is how you repay me?"
He threw the ring into the trash.
"Get out. Just get the hell out of my sight!"
He stormed off before I could stop him.
Katie sighed sadly.
"Beth, if you really love my brother, you need to prove it to him. He's stubborn as hell—he'll never forgive you otherwise."
I stared at her, lost. How do you prove something that never happened?
Looking at those photos again, pure rage consumed me.
That sick bastard wasn't just stalking me—he was destroying my life, my relationship, everything I cared about.
I searched everywhere for him but saw nothing.
"Are you happy now, you pathetic coward?" I screamed at the empty air, grabbing decorative stones and hurling them at windows.
"These photos are FAKE! All of them!"
"Come out and face me if you're so tough! You love taking pictures? Take this!"
"Just kill me already! Like I killed you before!"
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
The crowd that had been filming me with their phones suddenly stepped back in unison.
"Did she just say... murder?"
Someone picked up the photos I'd dropped.
"Looks respectable enough, but turns out she's just some side chick who lost it when she got dumped..."
"Probably mentally ill. Can't handle the pressure."
A little girl tugged on her mother's sleeve, her voice small and scared.
"Mommy, is that lady talking to ghosts?"
Seeing the child's pure, frightened eyes snapped me back to reality. I covered my face and ran.
That night, alone in my apartment, I called Derek over and over. He never picked up.
I sent him a shaky voice message.
"Derek... please, just answer your phone... Those photos are fake... I never betrayed you."
I felt so helpless, so terrified, never knowing when that psycho would strike next.
My phone buzzed—but it was a number I didn't recognize.
"Hey gorgeous, how much for the whole night? Let daddy take care of you."
I stared at the phone in confusion.
The voice continued, leering.
"Don't play innocent. We all know you're a slut who'll take anyone. If you can handle that fat pig, you can definitely handle me..."
He meant Patterson. Someone had seen those photos.
I hung up, shaking, and immediately searched for my name online.
There it was—a viral thread. Someone had posted all the photos, identified me, and leaked my phone number.
The comments were vicious.
"Always knew she was a whore. Dresses like one every day, serves her right."
"Always calling in sick, claiming photography was her 'main job' and work was just a side gig... guess we know what kind of photos she was taking."
"She tried to seduce me last time. When I wouldn't pay, she reported me for sexual harassment. Finally, the truth comes out!"
Those last comments had to be from my coworkers.
I tried to access our company chat but couldn't get in.
An email was waiting in my inbox: I'd been terminated for "moral misconduct."
"It's fake! All fake!" I sobbed, but no one would listen.
I wanted to call the police, but the thought of my crime held me back.
What if the stalker wasn't the homeless man? What if it was someone else entirely, and reporting this would expose the murder?
"No... I have to check. If that man is still alive, then I'm not a killer. Then I can call the police!"
I ran out into the night, heading straight for the woods where we'd buried the body.
I dug frantically until I found it.
The corpse was still there, rotting and maggot-infested.
I collapsed on the ground in despair.
I was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed.
Who the hell was this new stalker?!!
End of His Side Chick Made Him Dump Me… 100 Times! Now Watch Him Beg! Chapter 71. Continue reading Chapter 72 or return to His Side Chick Made Him Dump Me… 100 Times! Now Watch Him Beg! book page.