My Cousin's Pregnant Girlfriend - Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Ryan was nowhere to be found when I got to the rental.
Only the other masseur was there, lounging around like he had all the time in the world. I played it cool, asking where Ryan had run off to.
Turns out, he'd gone to see his girlfriend—some girl I'd never even heard of. And get this: she was pregnant. Supposedly. Ryan had only dropped her name in passing once or twice, like she was some random footnote in his life.
I frowned.
Ryan and I weren't just cousins—we grew up in the same damn village. How the hell did he have a whole girlfriend and not mention her?
Then again, we weren't exactly tight. Maybe he figured I wouldn't care. And honestly? He was right. Saved me the effort of faking interest.
Just when I thought the Vanessa mess was behind me, my phone buzzed.
Ryan.
Attached was a photo.
Explicit.
Me and Vanessa.
Her eyes squeezed shut, my hands pinning her down, her face twisted like she was in agony.
If I weren't the one in the shot, even I would've believed it was assault.
I shot up from my seat, blood roaring in my ears.
Ryan's call came through instantly. "Cousin, this is messed up. Raping your own brother's pregnant girlfriend? If this gets out, your life is over."
I clenched my jaw so hard it ached. "What do you want?"
"You know damn well. Sign the property transfer, and this disappears."
"Go to hell. That house was my father's. I'm not handing it over."
"Suit yourself. Even if you refuse, you're still on the hook for medical bills. Poor girl's baby is at risk after what you did."
His smug tone made me see red.
Three months ago, he'd promised to help me make cash. Instead, I'd blown my savings on training. Now, right when I was about to start earning, he pulls this shit.
"Rot in hell. I'd rather die than sign anything."
I hung up.
Sure enough, the cops showed up not long after.
That photo? A smoking gun. Vanessa's testimony? Backed by Ryan. And the DNA evidence? The cherry on top.
On paper, it was a slam-dunk case.
A pregnant woman accusing me of rape? Who'd believe she'd risk her baby to frame someone?
At the station, female officers glared at me like I was scum. How could anyone be so vile? Raping his own cousin's pregnant wife and acting like it was nothing.
Ryan even played the saint, telling the cops I'd just "lost control."
"Vanessa's baby is in danger. All we want is compensation—just medical expenses."
How noble.
And how convenient that the solution involved signing over my family's property.
The detective slid the photo across the table. "Care to explain?"
I laughed.
Because I'd known this was a setup from the jump.
I'd suspected Ryan and Vanessa were in on it together.
At first, I didn't think much of her calling him "Ryan" on the phone. Made sense—he had a rep in the industry, great reviews.
But her whole damsel in distress act? Too staged. She'd orchestrated everything to keep me there.
She'd slipped up, though.
Her place had no lived-in feel—like a short-term rental.
The gated community had tight security. No one got in without resident approval.
Yet somehow, her place got robbed that day. And she'd stopped me from chasing the intruder.
Not how a real victim would react.
The final clue? A call from the village committee.
Our hometown was being demolished. Every household was getting a fat payout.
After my parents died, I was the only one left. The village couldn't reach me—until Ryan "graciously" offered to pass along the news.
Now that demolition was approved, contracts needed signing.
Every time I'd tried to visit home, Ryan had made excuses. He'd had his eyes on my property the whole damn time.
Of course, it was just a theory. I had no proof.
Until that night at Vanessa's.
I'd recorded everything.
Turns out, I hadn't dreamed Ryan standing over my bed. I'd woken just in time, scaring the hell out of them.
The next morning, I checked the footage.
Vanessa had drugged my water.
At dinner, she'd tried again. This time, I played along. A free ride was a free ride—and I'd never been with a pregnant woman before.
……
The lab results came back.
My DNA was inside her.
Ryan smirked when the cops weren't looking, mouthing "Serves you right."
I turned to Vanessa. "Did I really rape you?"
She didn't flinch. "Yes. The report proves it. What else is there to say?"
"Because of you, my baby might not make it. I'll need hospitalization, and who knows how much more after birth."
I sighed. I'd wanted to give her one last chance to come clean.
But she doubled down.
Fine.
I played the recording.
A man and woman's voices filled the room.
"Are you sure the dosage is enough?"
"Plenty. I got this from India—top-shelf stuff."
"Is his village really being demolished? Don't screw this up. I'm only doing this for you."
"It's happening. Once I get his signature, the money's ours. Then we send him to prison—your revenge."
"Fine. But we're getting married the second the cash hits."
Ryan lunged for the report, shoving it at the cops. "This is fake! The lab results don't lie!"
Vanessa raised her voice. "Exactly! He's lying! Why would I risk my baby like this?"
"You're a monster! Targeting your own family—I'm carrying your nephew!"
I burst out laughing.
Vanessa was beautiful, but rotten to the core.
Did my idiot cousin really think that baby was his?
Oh well. Let him believe it.
The truth was, Ryan had been a cuckold for who knew how long.
While Vanessa cooked, I'd found a phone full of her hookup messages.
Not that Ryan was any better.
A fuckboy and a slut—perfect for each other.