Part 2Baking My Cheating Fiancé Alive

Mason reached the tailgate and rapped his knuckles against the carbon fiber.

Two frantic thuds answered him, rocking the heavy chassis on its suspension.

Miriam hurried over, laughing nervously as she tried to spin the narrative. "That boy! He’s always so mild-mannered, but look at him making such a theatrical entrance for a proposal!"

Brenda chuckled along, though her eyes darted warily. "I bet he's packed the back with helium balloons. Tara, you really found yourself a keeper."

On my phone screen, the high-def lens showed a scene descending into madness. Piper’s blouse was half-torn, sweat plastering her styled hair to her graying cheeks. She was curled into a miserable ball in the corner, clutching her stomach with trembling fingers.

"Shane... I can't breathe," she whimpered, gasping for air. "Do something... please, save me..."

Shane didn't even look at her. He threw his entire body weight against the rear latch, his shoulder slamming into the reinforced metal. With every impact, that smooth, cultured veneer peeled away, revealing the raw, ugly desperation underneath.

Mason brushed his fingertips against the trunk lid and jerked his hand back with a hiss. "Why is this metal scorching hot? Tara, what did you turn on?"

"Just the ozone decontamination cycle," I replied, tilting the screen just enough so he could see the technical manual. "The dealership said new interiors off-gas toxic chemicals. It heats the cabin to sterilize it."

"Where the hell is Piper?" Mason asked again, a hard edge of dread creeping into his tone.

"She said she was getting flowers. Maybe her battery died."

While speaking, I casually tapped the app, routing the dashcam's high-fidelity audio straight to the vehicle’s external speaker system and cranking the volume to maximum.

At first, only ragged, animalistic panting crackled over the PA.

The relatives exchanged amused glances, assuming it was some strange intro to a romantic soundtrack, whispering about whether Shane would emerge on one knee with a velvet box.

And then, Piper’s hysterical, sobbing scream shattered the silence.

"Shane! Hold me! Block the heat vent, please, I'm burning up!"

Miriam’s wide smile froze mid-beam. "Why... why is there a woman’s voice?"

"Must be part of the audio package for the proposal," I said, gazing at my phone with a detachment so chilling it startled even me.

On the screen, Piper reached out blindly, trying to pull Shane in front of the blistering vent to shield herself.

Shane shoved her backward with vicious force.

"Get off me! Stop crowding the vent!"

"I'm carrying your baby!" she shrieked.

"Are you out of your mind?! Look at the situation! Who gives a damn about the baby right now?!"

That roar tore through the external speakers with deafening clarity.

Mason went completely rigid, the blood draining from his face.

Miriam scrambled forward, her hands waving frantically. "It’s a movie! It’s a clip from some dramatic film he’s playing for the mood! Shane would never say something like that!"

Inside the car, Shane had abandoned all pretense of humanity.

The emergency release seam had a hairline gap where a tiny ribbon of cooler air trickled in. He pinned himself against it, greedily sucking in oxygen, his heavy knees digging ruthlessly into Piper’s hips.

Piper writhed, sobbing, clawing at his shins. "You're crushing him! Get off me!"

"Shut up! Make another sound and I swear to God I'll kick your teeth in!"

With that, he planted his shoe directly on Piper’s collarbone, using her body as leverage to push his face closer to the seam.

This was the man who used to tear up when he saw a stray dog in the rain. To buy himself three more seconds of breathable air, he was literally using his pregnant mistress as a stepping stone.

The screen lit up with another wave of text:

[Look at him. This is who the side character gave four years of her youth to.]

[Piper deserves it. She didn't hesitate for a second when they plotted to steal Tara’s inheritance.]

[Open the door! The fetus is going into distress!]

I watched Piper weep in agony under his heel, and my mind flashed back to three weeks ago. She had clung to my arm at the bridal boutique, her eyes welling with joyful tears as she helped me select my veil.

"Tara, seeing you marry the love of your life makes me happier than anything in the world," she had said.

Now I knew why she was so happy. Shane was finally about to get his hands on the Ashworth estate.

Inside the trunk, a desperate clatter sounded. Shane snatched Piper’s fallen phone, frantically jabbing at the screen to dial 911. But the vehicle’s high-tech privacy jammer had activated alongside the security lockdown. There was zero signal.

"Why is there no service?!"

Shane slammed the phone against the steel wall in a blind rage, finally throwing his head back and screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Is anybody out there?! Help! Help us!"

The raw, frantic scream blared from the speakers. Miriam’s face went pasty white.

"That... that really is Shane! Open the car! Open it right now!"

"Miriam," I murmured, meeting her panicked gaze, "I thought you said it was just a recording."

"To hell with the proposal! Open the goddamn doors!" She lunged to snatch my phone, but Mason’s heavy arm shot out, catching her by the wrist.

Inside, another muffled, choked wail tore through the air.

Mason pressed his ear flat against the tinted rear glass. He listened for three long, agonizing seconds. When he turned back, his eyes were bloodshot, fixing on me with terrifying intensity.

"There's a woman in there," he breathed, his voice trembling violently. "Tara... why does she sound like Piper?"