Nine Months Pregnant and my Husband Killed my Twins

My husband Scott’s first love faked her fall on the cliff, framing me as the villain.

In a blind rage, Scott dragged me—nine months pregnant—to an amusement park. His men strapped me into the harness of a bungee jumping platform.

“This is your punishment for doing that to Jasmin!”

Terrified of heights, I clutched at the restraints, my swollen belly making it hard to breathe. Tears streamed down my face as I begged him, my voice raw. “Scott, please… let me go. I swear! I didn’t push her.”

But my husband only looked at me with chilling indifference.

“For the sake of the twins, I won’t divorce you.” His voice was calm, almost gentle, but it only made the next words colder. ” But the pain you’ve caused Jasmin—I want you to feel it a thousand times over.”

Then, without another word, he gave the order.

The next thing I knew, I was falling.

The rope snapped tight around my body, yanking me back up just before I hit the ground—only for the cycle to repeat, over and over again, the relentless motion never stops.

And then—

A rush of warmth. Something wet, soaking through my dress, trailing down my legs.

The next day, he had found me lying near the pool and then saw those figures in the pool thinking they were toys—what he didn’t know that those were his twins he just killed for his mistress.