My Construction Site Nightmare - Chapter 7: Chapter 7

I spun around, my gaze locking onto Chase Langley—the architect of my nightmare.
This disgusting excuse for a man had not only deceived me into sleeping with him but was now hell-bent on destroying my reputation forever.
Why the hell should he walk away unscathed?
I took slow, deliberate steps toward him, my entire body trembling with rage. My voice was raw, venom dripping from every word.
"Chase Langley, are you even human? Do you feel good about what you've done? You're a monster—and I swear to God, you'll pay for this!"
But my fury might as well have been water sliding off a windshield.
"Go ahead, Bianca. Scream until your throat bleeds," he sneered, unfazed. "The photos and videos are already out. The whole crew's seen you in all your glory. Beautiful things should be shared, right? I did you a favor. Now everyone agrees—you're officially the hottest girl on-site."
His smirk deepened, his words turning even filthier.
"Shut your mouth, Chase!"
If two coworkers hadn't grabbed me, I would've lunged at him with whatever sharp object I could find.
"Bianca, stop! You have to calm down!"
They urged me to accept the situation—dump my boyfriend and just give in to Chase.
"Let's be real, Bianca," one said, voice dripping with false sympathy. "If you had a boyfriend, you shouldn't have slept with Chase. You're an adult. Own your mistakes."
Their words twisted the knife, making me the villain. Like I'd asked for this humiliation. Like no decent man would want me now—unless I married the very predator who'd ruined me.
I'd become the punchline of the whole damn construction site.
"Chase is willing to take responsibility for you—that's more than most guys would do," the other chimed in. "Face it, Bianca. After those photos? You're... used goods now."
Their logic made me sick.
Was this really my fault?
Chase was the predator.
Yet no one called him out. No one held him accountable.
I shook my head violently, my voice cracking.
"No! I'm the victim here! He tricked me! Why is no one blaming him? What he did is illegal! How can you all act like this is nothing—like I should just marry him? Jesus Christ, what's the difference between that and marrying my rapist?"
The world had gone insane.
Despair clawed at my chest.
I screamed until my voice broke, but they just kept pushing—just accept Chase.
"Bianca, I don't care that other men have seen you," Chase said smoothly, like he was offering me some twisted mercy. "They didn't get to touch you. You're still mine. Come to my dorm tonight. Let's make up. If you refuse... well, I'll just send those photos to your boyfriend. And your family. I already found their socials."
Was this thing even human?
He was tightening the noose.
Now he was threatening to send my nudes to my parents—cutting off every escape, trapping me as his personal toy forever.
If I married this monster, my life was over.
One month into my internship, and I was living a waking nightmare.
I stood by the water, numb, for what felt like an eternity.
Finally, I forced the words out.
"Fine, Chase. You want me to marry you? I'll come tonight."
I had a plan—the police were my only hope.
I had to play along. Keep him off guard.
So I lied.
And somehow... he bought it.