My Dad's Bestfriend (Evelyn and Jacob) novel Chapter 231

Evelyn

Tyler’s words froze me where I sat. Every inch of my body locked up, every nerve screaming. The horror twisted in me, deeper than words could reach. My breathing hitched, sharp and fast, as fear sunk like claws into my skin.

“W-what?” I whispered, my voice trembling.

He placed both hands on the armrests of the chair, caging me in. My muscles ached from how tightly I’d been holding myself together, how long I’d been clenching against panic. I had a small window—maybe I could push him, run—but he had a knife. And I had to protect my baby.

A single fall could take her from me. I couldn’t risk it.

“Still a little hazy?” he mused, smirking. “Has the sedative not worn off yet?”

Then, colder that bastard added, “I told you to get naked, Evelyn.”

Disgust rose like bile in my throat, tangling with the fear in my stomach, “No,” I said, stronger than I expected. “I’m not doing that.”

I pressed back into the chair, desperate to breathe right, but my lungs weren’t listening. The air tasted metallic. My chest burned.

Tyler’s smile widened.

“Oh wow,” he said with mock delight. “You’re not going to do that? Or would you prefer I do it for you?” He dragged the tip of the knife slowly down the side of my dress, then along the curve of my belly, “Don’t make me do something I don’t want to, Belladonna. I’m not in the mood for murder today.”

“Please, Tyler… don’t do this,” I begged, arms wrapping around my body. My voice cracked, shaking. I didn’t look at him—I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to see the pleasure I knew was in his eyes.

“Open your eyes.”

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head, burying my face into my shoulder to stifle the sobs.

“Don’t make me mad, Evelyn. You won’t like what that looks like.”

“Please…” My voice shattered, and tears slid down my cheek.

I heard him exhale sharply. A pause. Then, his hands pulled back from the armrests.

“God, you are so fucking annoying,” he muttered, stepping away. I dared to open my eyes.

He was pacing now, rubbing his jaw.

“Are all pregnant women this dramatic, or are you just the exception?” His tone was edged with irritation, but something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable. Maybe regret. Maybe hesitation. But it didn’t matter. The man in front of me was a monster, no matter what echoes of Tyler might still exist inside him.

“Tyler… please. My baby hasn’t done anything. Just… try to understand.”

“I didn’t realize getting naked caused a miscarriage,” he snapped back, gaze flicking to my belly with something like disdain—or curiosity. I instinctively covered it with my hands.

Before I could plead again, he walked across the room, grabbed a bag, and dropped it in front of me. My heart seized.

What now?

But instead of something terrifying, he pulled out a folded pair of loose-fitting pants and a shirt. They weren’t his.

He’d brought them.

“What are you—”

“Your clothes are filthy,” he cut in, tossing the bundle onto my lap. “Not exactly healthy for either of you.”

I stared at the clothes, then at him. Confused. Scared. Something didn’t add up.

“Try them on before I change my mind,” he warned, turning toward the door. He unlocked it with a soft click, then paused in the doorway. Looked back.

“And don’t even think about running,” he said with a crooked grin. “We’ve all seen enough movies to know what happens when a pregnant woman tries to escape from the kidnapper, haven’t we?”

Then he was gone. The door shut behind him. I let out a shaking breath. My hands, still trembling, reached for the clothes. I couldn’t fully process what had just happened. I was still stuck in the whirlwind of it all.

I was trapped. With Tyler.

Pregnant.

Defenseless.

And the man who said he’d kill me after I gave birth...had just brought me something comfortable to wear.

***

I didn’t know how many hours had passed since I’d changed into the warm clothes Tyler left for me. They were comfortable, yes—but the comfort was more disturbing than reassuring.

Why offer softness to someone you planned to kill?

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