Page 180 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

“He’s with her,” I said, my voice harder now. “And he’s not coming back until he’s ready.”

“You sound real sure about that.”

“I am.”

Because I knew Amai. I knew the way his mind worked. I knew what it looked like when he decided something was his.

And that surrogate? She was his now.

Not in the way I was his—trapped by contracts and family obligations. She was his in the way that mattered to him. The way that made him reckless. The way that made him forget everything else.

I’d seen the shift weeks ago. The way he’d started talking about the baby like it was more than a legacy play. The way he’d obsessed over every detail of the surrogacy arrangement. The way he’d insisted on being involved in ways that went beyond what the contract required.

At first, I thought it was just his control issues. Amai needed to micromanage everything.

But then I’d seen the look on his face when he talked about her.

And I knew.

This wasn’t about control.

This was about possession.

Syx was still watching me, his expression skeptical. “You really think he’s that gone over some woman he barely knows?”

“I think Amai doesn’t do anything halfway,” I said. “And if he’s decided she’s his, then yeah. He’s that gone.”

Syx leaned back in the chair, his jaw tight. “Fuck.”

“Exactly.”

We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of it settling between us.

I hated this. Hated being stuck in this house, in this marriage, in this life. Hated that Amai got to walk away whenever he wanted while I was trapped here playing the dutiful wife for the sake of our fathers’ alliance.

But more than that, I hated that he’d found something—someone—who made him forget I existed.

Because as much as I despised Amai, as much as I resented everything about our arrangement, there was a part of me that had always believed we were the same. Two people trapped in a cage neither of us wanted, making the best of a bad situation.

But now he’d found a way out.

And I was still here.

Alone.

Syx’s phone buzzed, and he glanced down at it. His expression shifted—something darker, more guarded.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.” He stood and shoved his phone into his pocket. “I’m gonna make some food. You want anything?”

“No.”

He nodded and headed for the door, but I called after him.

“Syx.”

He stopped and looked back.