Kaisen had been calling more often lately. Ever since Raymond started the surrogate search. Ever since he’d figured out what I was doing and why I had no other choice.
Guilt, probably.
Good.
He should feel guilty.
At 12:30 PM, I ate lunch in my office—blackened catfish and dirty rice that Layla had left in the fridge with reheating instructions. I barely tasted it.
I kept looking at the clock.
1:00 PM. One hour until Truth arrived.
I pulled up security reports on my laptop. Reviewed territory maps. Checked shipment schedules. Answered emails that didn’t need answering.
Anything to keep my hands busy.
Anything to stop thinking about her.
But every few minutes, I’d catch myself staring at the locked drawer where her file was.
This is ridiculous.
I was Amai Landry. The Demon. I’d built an empire on control and precision and the ability to compartmentalize everything—business, violence, family, survival.
I didn’t get distracted by women.
I didn’t wake up early for interviews.
I didn’t change my cufflinks twice because I wanted to look?—
What?
Approachable?
Trustworthy?
Human?
I shoved the laptop away and stood up.
This was a business transaction. A contract. A solution to a problem I couldn’t solve any other way.
That’s all it was.
That’s all it could be.
At 1:45 PM, Raymond’s car pulled into the circular driveway.
I watched from the window of my office as he got out—fifty-something, silver-haired, wearing a charcoal suit. Raymond Fontenot had been my attorney for fifteen years. He’d drawn up contracts for territory deals, business acquisitions, and things that would never see the inside of a courtroom.
He was the only person outside of my personal physician, dad and brother who knew about my condition.
He was also the only person I trusted to handle this.
Raymond opened the passenger door.
And Truth stepped out.
