Page 189 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

Then he turned and walked toward his own bedroom without saying another word.

I exhaled slowly, my knees weak with relief.

But I couldn’t let it go. I couldn’t let him just walk away like I didn’t exist.

I followed him down the hall, my bare feet silent on the hardwood. “Where the hell have you been, Amai?”

He didn’t stop. Didn’t turn around. Just kept walking toward his bedroom like I was a ghost.

“I’m talking to you,” I said, my voice rising.

He finally stopped at his bedroom door, his hand on the knob. When he turned to face me, his expression was carved from stone.

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“The hell you don’t. You disappear for days—no calls, no texts—and you think you can just walk back in here like nothing happened?”

“That’s exactly what I think.” His voice was cold. Detached. “Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

“You’re with her, weren’t you?” The words came out before I could stop them. “Your little surrogate. You’re fucking her.”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought he might actually hit me.

But he didn’t.

He just stared at me with an expression that made my blood run cold.

“Guard your tongue, Yahmaria.”

“Or what?” I stepped closer, defiant despite the fear crawling up my spine. “You’ll do what, Amai? You’ll leave? You already did that. You’ll ignore me? You’ve been doing that for years. What’s left?”

“You don’t want to find out.”

“I’m your wife,” I said, my voice shaking. “I’m your fucking wife, and you’re out there playing house with some broke bitch who doesn’t even know who you are?—”

His hand was around my throat before I could finish the sentence.

He slammed me against the wall, his grip tight enough to cut off my air, his face inches from mine.

“I told you,” he said, his voice low and deadly, “to guard your tongue.”

I clawed at his hand, gasping, my vision starting to blur at the edges.

“You don’t talk about her,” he continued, his grip tightening. “You don’t think about her. You don’t even breathe her name. Do you understand me?”

I nodded frantically, tears streaming down my face.

He held me there for another moment—long enough for me to see the truth in his eyes.

He would kill me.

If I pushed him, if I threatened what was his, he would kill me without hesitation.

He suddenly released me, and I collapsed against the wall, gasping for air.

“Priest is missing,” he said, his voice flat. “My entire operation is destabilizing. So, forgive me if I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

I rubbed my throat, my voice hoarse. “Priest is missing? What do you mean missing?”