Page 170 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

And I had no idea who to trust anymore.

I walked up the three concrete steps to the front door, Raven right behind me. My legs felt heavy, like I was dragging myself through water.

The door swung open before I could knock.

Mama stood there in her house dress—faded purple with little white flowers—her hair wrapped in a silk scarf, her eyes sharp and assessing. She took one look at me, and her entire face changed.

“What happened?” she demanded, stepping aside to let us in.

“Nothing, Mama. I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me, Truth Renois.” Her voice was hard, cutting through my exhaustion like a blade. “You look like you been through hell and back. Now get in here and sit down.”

I stepped inside, the familiar smell of the house wrapping around me—coffee, incense, and the faint smell of onions from what Mama had been cooking earlier. The living room was small, cluttered with mismatched furniture and family photos on every available surface. The couch sagged in the middle, but it was clean. Everything was always clean.

I sank onto the couch, and Raven sat beside me, her hand resting protectively on my knee.

Mama stood in front of us, arms crossed, her gaze locked on me. “Now, tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Mama, I already told you on the phone?—”

“You told me some bullshit about Amai’s brother and a clinic visit,” Mama interrupted, her voice rising. “You didn’t tell me why you look like you about to fall apart. You didn’t tell me why that man was blocking Raven’s car in my driveway with a gun pointed at him. So, I’m asking again, what the hell is going on?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. Where did I even start?

“Truth.” Mama’s voice softened slightly, but the steel underneath didn’t waver. “Baby, I need you to talk to me. For real this time. Not the version you think I want to hear. The real version.”

I looked down at my hands, twisting them together in my lap. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Start with Amai,” Mama said, sitting in the armchair across from us. “Who is he? And don’t tell me he’s just some man you doing surrogacy for. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

I swallowed hard. “He’s… complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“He’s—” I hesitated, trying to find the words. “He’s powerful. He has money. He has people who work for him. He’s?—”

“What does he do?” Mama asked, her eyes narrowing.

“I don’t know exactly.”

“You don’t know?” Mama’s voice sharpened. “You carrying this man’s baby, and you don’t know what he does for a living?”

“It’s not like that,” I said quickly. “It was supposed to be a contract. A surrogacy arrangement. Clean. Professional. I wasn’t supposed to?—”

“But it is,” Mama finished, her gaze piercing. “You got involved. And now you sitting here looking like you don’t know which way is up.”

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them back. “I didn’t mean for it to get this complicated.”

“Complicated,” Mama repeated, shaking her head. “Baby, complicated is when you can’t decide between two jobs. Complicated is when your car breaks down and you ain’t got the money to fix it. What you describing sounds dangerous.”

“It’s not?—”

“Don’t.” Mama held up a hand, cutting me off. “Don’t sit here and tell me it’s not dangerous when that man just pulled up to my house like he owns the world. Don’t tell me it’s not dangerous when Raven had to pull a gun on him. Don’t tell me it’s not dangerous when you look like you been running for your life.”

I looked away, unable to meet her eyes.

“Who are his people?” Mama asked, her voice quieter now but no less intense.