Page 178 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

And for the first time in weeks, I felt like I could breathe.

Chapter 15

YAHMARIA

Istared at my phone screen, watching the call fail for the third time today.

The number you have dialed is not in service.

Bullshit.

I knew exactly what that message meant. Amai had blocked this number too.

I threw the phone onto the bed and paced across the master bedroom, my bare feet silent against the plush carpet. The room was pristine—cream walls, expensive linens, tasteful art that meant nothing. Everything in this house was beautiful and empty, just like the marriage it represented.

Two days.

Two fucking days since Amai had been home.

I’d called him seventeen times from my personal phone before he blocked me. Then I’d used Syx’s phone. Blocked. Then I’d borrowed a burner from one of the staff. Blocked. This morning I’d used a number spoofing app to make it look like I was calling from his daddy house.

Still blocked.

He knew. He always knew.

I grabbed my phone again and opened my messages, scrolling through the unanswered texts I’d sent over the past week.

Where are you?

We need to talk.

You can’t just disappear like this.

I don’t care where you are, but you need to come home.

This is ridiculous.

AMAI.

Read receipts off. Of course.

I wanted to throw the phone across the room and watch it shatter against the wall. But that would be giving him exactly what he wanted—proof that he’d gotten under my skin.

And I refused to give Amai Landry the satisfaction.

I sat on the edge of the bed and took a breath, forcing myself to think clearly.

This wasn’t about me. It never was. Amai didn’t avoid me because he hated me—he avoided me because I was an inconvenience. A contractual obligation he couldn’t dissolve without consequences. Our marriage was a business arrangement between our fathers, a strategic alliance that kept Victor Baptiste and Winston Landry’s empires aligned.

And I was the collateral.

But that didn’t mean I had to suffer through this sham alone.

If I had to endure the humiliation of being married to a man who couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me, then so did he. That was the deal. That was the price we both paid.

Except Amai had stopped paying.

He’d found a loophole. A distraction.