My Co-Worker Tried to Steal My Boyfriend and Get Me Fired, but Her Obsession Blew Up in Front of the Owner’s Japanese Mother

Blocked again.

The third time, she got creative.

I’m pregnant.

I stared at that message for a long time before screenshotting it and blocking that number too. But the doubt was there now, planted whether I wanted it or not.

What if it was true?

I told myself I wasn’t going down that road. Whatever drama Bianca was building now had nothing to do with me.

But the texts kept coming from new numbers every few days. Details about her supposed pregnancy. About Kenji’s reaction. About how I “deserved to know the truth.” I blocked every one of them without replying, but each message chipped away at the peace I had worked so hard to rebuild.

Eventually, I changed my number. It was a pain updating everything, but the silence felt worth it.

For about a week.

Then she found my new number too.

You can’t hide from this forever.

This time I stopped blocking and went to the police.

The officer who took my report looked bored.

“Has she threatened you?”

“No, but she keeps contacting me from different numbers.”

“Can you prove it’s the same person?”

I showed him the screenshots. He scrolled through them with mild interest and handed my phone back.

“These are annoying, but they’re not threatening. Unless she escalates, there’s not much we can do.”

“So I just have to put up with it?”

“You can file for a restraining order, but you’ll need more evidence of harassment. Document everything. If she shows up at your work or home, call us immediately.”

I left feeling defeated. The system that was supposed to protect me apparently needed her to do something worse before it would actually step in.

A few days later, Yuki pulled me aside at work.

“Someone called asking for your schedule. Said she was your sister and there was a family emergency.”

“I don’t have a sister.”

Yuki’s expression hardened instantly. “That woman, probably. I’ll make sure nobody gives out your information.”

That night, I finally called Kenji.

“Is she really pregnant?”

There was silence on the line. Then he said, “She says she is.”

“Do you believe her?”

“I don’t know. She won’t take a test in front of me. Says I should trust her.”

“Jesus Christ, Kenji.”

“I know. I know. I’m handling it.”

“Are you? Because she’s stalking me.”

“What?”

I told him about the texts, the calls to my work, the police report. He listened quietly and then said, “I’ll talk to her.”

“Don’t. Just stay away from her. Get a paternity test if you have to, but stop engaging.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It really is.”

We hung up without resolving anything, and honestly there wasn’t anything left to resolve. We had created the mess together, but by then we were just dealing with the fallout in separate corners.

The next morning I found my car keyed. A long deep scratch ran from the front bumper all the way to the back.

There were no cameras in my apartment lot. No witnesses. No proof it was her, but who else would it be?

I filed another police report. This officer was more sympathetic but no more helpful.

“Without evidence, we can’t connect this to your harassment case.”

“So she can destroy my property and get away with it?”

“I understand your frustration. Keep documenting everything. These cases often escalate before we can take action.”

“That’s comforting,” I muttered.

The repair estimate was eight hundred dollars, money I absolutely did not have. I started parking on different streets, changing my routine, looking over my shoulder everywhere I went.

This was what she had reduced me to.

A week later, Sarah called again. I almost ignored it, but something in her voice on the voicemail made me call back.

“I know you don’t want to hear about her,” Sarah said immediately, “but I think you should know. She’s telling people you’re stalking her now.”

“What?”

“She’s showing people texts from your old number. Obviously fake, but some people believe her. She’s really convincing.”

I actually laughed.

Of course she was.

“What are you going to do?” Sarah asked.

“Nothing.”

“But your reputation—”

“Sarah, I’m tired. I have a job where people respect me. I’m saving money. I’m moving on. If people want to believe her lies, that’s their choice.”

“I just hate that she’s getting away with this.”

“She’s not getting away with anything,” I said. “She’s miserable. Happy people do not act like this.”

And I realized as I said it that I meant it. Somewhere in all the chaos, I had stopped caring about winning. I just wanted peace.

But Bianca still wasn’t done.

Two nights later, I was closing at Kiku when the alarm suddenly went off. Someone had thrown a brick through the front window.

By the time the police arrived, whoever did it was long gone. No cameras had caught the person, but there was a note tied to the brick.

Stop ignoring me.

Yuki was furious, not at me, but at the situation.

“This affects my business now. This is too much.”

“I’m so sorry. I’ll quit if you want.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she snapped. “You’re not letting her win. But we’re installing cameras tomorrow, and you’re not closing alone anymore.”

The police took the note as evidence, and for the first time, they actually seemed to be taking it seriously.

The detective assigned to my case was a tired-looking woman named Martinez, and unlike everyone else, she seemed competent.

“This escalation is concerning,” she said. “The pregnancy claims, the property damage, now this. Has she made any direct threats?”

“No. Just nonstop harassment.”

“We’ll increase patrols around your home and work. If you see her, call immediately. Don’t engage.”

“Trust me,” I said. “I won’t.”

For two weeks, I didn’t see Bianca at all. No texts, no vandalism, no surprise appearances. The silence felt almost worse than the harassment because at least when she was actively bothering me, I knew what she was doing.

Then one Tuesday afternoon at the grocery store, I turned a corner and almost walked straight into both of them.

Kenji and Bianca were standing together by the produce like some normal couple shopping for dinner.

She saw me first, and her face lit up with triumph.

“Oh, look, honey. It’s your ex.”

Kenji looked like he wanted to vanish.

“Let’s go,” he said quietly, trying to steer her away.

“No, this is perfect.” She grabbed his arm. “We can tell her our news together.”

I started backing away, but she followed me.

“We’re having a baby,” she said brightly. “Isn’t that wonderful? Kenji’s going to be a daddy.”

“Bianca, stop,” Kenji said.

She ignored him.

“We’re so happy. Everything worked out exactly how it was supposed to. I got the man, the baby, the life…”

Then she smiled that sharp smile.