Page 7 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

He didn’t flinch.

Didn’t look surprised.

Just leaned back against the bar cart and crossed his arms.

“Because you’re getting too close to your surrogate,” he said. “This will help you focus.”

“Focus?” I pushed off the desk, my hands clenching into fists. “You sent mywifeto my house to help mefocus? You know I hate that bitch with a passion.”

“She’s not just your wife, Amai. She’s Victor Baptiste’s daughter. And your marriage to her is the bond between two empires. I allowed that Alexis girl to be around to buy some time to track Yahmaria down, and I couldn’t careless if you like her. Hell, I don’t care that you don’t love her. This is about duty. Legacy. Our name! Landrys don’t go back on their deals, Amai. That’s not going to change just because you’re having a tantrum.”

“A marriage you tricked me into.” My voice was rising now, the control I’d been holding onto starting to slip. “You knew she had a fucking hysterectomy. You knew she couldn’t give me children. And you pushed me into marrying her anyway.”

“I didn’t know before the wedding. Believe that or don’t.” His voice was calm. “But once the papers were signed, the marriage became bigger than her womb.”

“Then why won’t you help me get out of it?”

“Because it’s not that simple.” He moved away from the bar cart, his presence filling the room in a way that made the air feel thinner. “Victor Baptiste requires certain assurances to reinforce our partnership. Your marriage to Yahmaria is one of those assurances. If you sever that bond, you risk war between our families.”

“So, I’m supposed to stay married to a woman who fucks my enemies just to keep your business deals intact?”

“You’re supposed to remember that everything you have—everything you’ve built—exists because of the foundation I laid.” His voice hardened. “You don’t get to be Amai Landry, the Demon, without being Winston Landry’s son first.”

“Fuck that.” I took a step toward him. “And fuck you for thinking you can control me like this.”

“I’m not trying to control you. I’m trying to protect you.”

“By telling Yahmaria about Truth?” The words came out like venom. “Did you? Did you tell her about the surrogate?”

His silence was answer enough.

“You son of a bitch!”

“She had a right to know.” Winston’s voice was steel. “You’re about to be a father. That changes things.”

“It changesnothing.” I was in his face now, close enough to see the flecks of gray in his eyes. “Yahmaria and I aren’t about to be shit. You understand me? We’re not raising this baby together. We’re not playing happy family. And you have me fucked up if you think I’m going to expose Truth to her.”

“You don’t have a fucking choice.”

“I always have a choice.” My voice dropped to something cold and dangerous. “And you’re pushing me back to that dark place, old man. The place I hate going. The place where my bloodlust takes over, and I stop giving a fuck about consequences.”

Winston’s eyes narrowed.

“You threatening me, boy?”

“I’m telling you that if you keep pushing, I will kill Yahmaria and Victor for my freedom. And I won’t lose sleep over it.”

“Then you and I will be at war.”

“Then it’s war.” I didn’t blink. Didn’t back down. “Because I don’t play about Truth.”

The silence that followed was electric.

Charged with violence that hadn’t happened yet but was coming.

I could feel it building between us—years of resentment, control, and unspoken rage finally finding a target.

Then he moved.