Page 100 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

The GPS announced I’d arrived.

I pulled up to a nondescript warehouse with a single light above the entrance.

Two men stood outside.

Rahsaan’s soldiers.

I parked and got out.

Kept my hands visible.

One of the soldiers patted me down, found the .45 and took it.

“He’s expecting you,” the soldier said.

I nodded and walked inside.

The door closed behind me with a heavythud.

And just like that, the alliance reformed.

Different players.

Same game.

But this time, I was playing to win.

The interior was sparse. Exposed brick, industrial lighting, an old desk in the center of the room. No windows. No art on the walls. Just function over feeling.

Rahsaan Boudreaux sat behind the desk, leaning back in his chair like a king on a throne he’d fought for.

Thirty-nine years old. Dark skin, sharp eyes, the kind of build that said he’d done his own dirty work before he had soldiers to do it for him.

He didn’t stand when I walked in.

Didn’t offer his hand.

Just watched me with the kind of calculation that came from years of surviving in a world that wanted him dead.

“Victor Baptiste,” he said finally. His voice was smooth. “This is unexpected.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“You got a lot of nerve showing up here.” Rahsaan tilted his head. “Considering you’ve been aligned with the Landrys for what? Thirty years?”

“Thirty-two,” I corrected.

“And now you want to talk to me.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s interesting.”

I didn’t sit down.

Didn’t ask permission.

Just stood there and let him posture.

“You done?” I asked.

Rahsaan’s smile faded.