Page 138 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

She’d been there. She’d seen the whole thing. Seen me on the ground, bleeding, helpless while Amai stood over me like some avenging angel.

She’d seen him win.

The humiliation burned hotter than the pain in my side.

I’d wanted to be the one she turned to. The one she trusted. The safe choice compared to Amai’s darkness.

But she’d watched me lose. Watched me bleed. Watched Amai take control of the situation with the kind of brutal efficiency that made it clear who the real predator was.

And now she was with him.

Probably at that lakehouse he thought I didn’t know about. Probably believing every lie he was feeding her about me, about the baby, about what kind of man I was.

Rage flooded through me, hot and vicious. My head felt too heavy to hold up.

Amai was making her believe I was the villain in this story. That I’d violated her. That I’d gone behind everyone’s back to steal what was his.

But that wasn’t the whole truth.

Yeah, I’d pursued her. Yeah, I’d used the sperm swap to my advantage. But I hadn’t orchestrated it. I hadn’t been the one to walk into that fertility clinic and demand they use my specimen alongside Amai’s.

That had been Winston.

Our father playing God with all our lives because he thought he knew what was best for the family legacy.

Amai didn’t know that part. He thought I was the mastermind. He thought I’d betrayed him deliberately, maliciously.

And maybe I had.

Maybe the moment I found out what Winston had done, I should’ve told Amai. Should’ve been honest. Should’ve said, “Look, I didn’t ask for this, but it’s happening, and we need to figure out what to do.”

But I hadn’t.

Because the truth was, I wanted it.

I wanted the baby. I wanted the family. I wanted the thing that Amai had been handed on a silver platter while I got nothing but scraps and disappointment.

And somewhere along the way—somewhere between meeting Truth at that park and watching her smile, watching her talk about her dreams, watching her be real in a way no one in our world ever was—I’d started wanting more than just the baby.

I wanted her.

Not as a prize. Not as a way to one-up Amai.

I wanted Truth Renois for herself.

I wanted her laugh. Her strength. Her refusal to be broken by the shit life had thrown at her. I wanted the way she looked at the world like it owed her nothing, but she was going to take what she needed anyway.

I wanted to be the man she chose.

And I’d fucked it all up by not being honest.

By playing the game the way Winston taught us to play it—with lies and manipulation and strategic moves instead of just saying what I wanted.

Now she was with Amai, and he was probably filling her head with poison about me. Telling her I was dangerous. Telling her I couldn’t be trusted. Telling her that he was the only one who could keep her safe.

And she was probably believing him.

Because why wouldn’t she? He’d just proven he was willing to kill for her. Willing to bury his own brother alive to protect her.