Part 3Baking My Cheating Fiancé Alive

Every eye in the garage swung toward me.

Miriam clamped her manicured nails into my forearm, her voice shrill with hysteria. "Shane has a heart condition! If something happens to him in that oven, you will answer for it, do you hear me?!"

A humorless laugh nearly escaped my lips. Her golden-boy son was caught pants-down in my dowry car with my cousin's wife, and she still thought she held the moral high ground.

"The electronics must be glitching," I said smoothly, stepping back and slipping effortlessly from her grasp. "It’s a brand-new import. I don't know how to override the system manually."

Mason paid no attention to our exchange. He hammered his fists against the reinforced glass. "Piper?! Piper, is that you?!"

Inside the sweltering dark, Piper heard her husband’s voice. She went utterly, petrifiedly still.

She clamped both hands over her mouth, choking back her sobs. The oppressive heat had drained all color from her face, and between her bare thighs, dark red streaks were beginning to pool against the leather.

"The baby... Shane... our baby..." Piper reached out with shaking fingers, clutching the cuff of his trousers, begging him. "Fan me with your shirt... please... save him. This is the son you always wanted..."

Shane glanced down, saw the dark smear of blood against his designer hem, and recoiled in pure disgust.

"Let go of me! You’re getting blood all over my clothes!"

"I'm bleeding out, Shane! Help me!"

"We can make another damn baby! Right now, we need to get the hell out of here!"

With a cruel twist of his leg, he kicked her hands away. Piper’s spine slammed against the chassis, and she curled inward, letting out an agonizing, animalistic shriek.

Mason heard every single syllable through the speakers.

"Tara," he choked out, his jaw clenched so hard his teeth were on the verge of splintering. "Turn the volume up. Louder."

Without a word, I pushed the slider to one hundred percent.

Four years ago, the first time Shane took me to meet his college fraternity brothers, one of them made an off-color joke at my expense. Shane had instantly turned cold, standing up to publicly declare that I was the woman he intended to honor and protect for the rest of his days. After that dinner, he apologized to me ten times over, blaming himself for not vetting his friends better.

Now I saw it for what it was: performance art. A meticulously curated persona designed to hook an heiress.

Brenda was pounding on the glass now, frantic. "Shane! Stop playing games! Get out of there right now!"

The shouting from outside sparked a desperate surge of adrenaline in Shane. He dropped to his knees, clawing through the emergency kit mounted in the recessed wheel well. His fingers closed around a heavy steel Phillips-head screwdriver.

"Someone’s out there," he breathed, eyes wild. "If I shatter the quarter-panel, we can crawl through."

Piper threw her arms around his waist, weeping. "No! We’re half-naked! Mason is right outside!"

"Get off me!"

"If he sees us like this, our lives are over!"

"If I don't break this glass, we’re going to die in here, you idiot!"

Piper shook her head hysterically, begging him to pull his clothes together, begging him to fabricate an excuse, clinging to the delusional fantasy that she could still save her marriage—that she could still play the sweet, supportive best friend in my life.

Shane’s last shred of patience snapped.

"You miserable bitch! You’re the one who begged to sneak into the trunk for a thrill!"

"You said it was safe!"

"If they catch us, I'm telling them you ambushed me! You threw yourself at me!"

Piper shattered. "Shane Bishop, I am carrying your child! How can you do this to me?!"

The answer was a sickening, resounding slap.

The sharp crack echoed brutally through the speakers. The assembled relatives went dead, pale-faced silent.

Miriam desperately tried to claw back control. "He... he must be delirious from the heat! That woman is clearly an intruder who ambushed him! He’s just defending himself!"

Mason turned his head, his voice dangerously low. "You knew who was in there?"

"How would I know?!" Miriam stammered, shrinking away from his gaze. "I’m just guessing!"

On the monitor, Shane shoved Piper into the far corner and raised the heavy steel tool. He drove it into the corner of the small rear window.

"Crack." A web of spiderweb fractures blossomed across the safety glass.

Mason pointed a shaking finger at the cracks. "This isn't a proposal. They're trapped."

Dropping his scotches, Mason sprinted toward the pillar, tore a heavy red fire extinguisher from its wall bracket, and marched back toward the car with murder in his eyes.