Page 1 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 3

Chapter 1

AMAI

The words hit me like a physical blow.

I opened my mouth to respond—to explain, to fix this, to say something—but Truth was already moving.

She slid off the examination table with a violence that made Dr. Beaumont step back instinctively. The paper gown crinkled and tore as she yanked it off and threw it to the floor. She grabbed her clothes from the chair and started dressing with sharp, furious movements—pulling on her jeans and her shirt, not caring that Winston and Yahmaria were watching.

"Truth—" I started.

She slapped the fuck out of me before I could finish.

“Don’t.” Her voice was low, shaking with rage. “Don’t you fucking dare say my name right now.”

She turned to face all three of us—me, Winston, and Yahmaria—and the look in her eyes was pure fire.

“You got me fucked up,” she said, her voice rising. “All three of you. You think I’m some kind of incubator you can just manage? Some pawn in whatever sick game this family is playing?”

Winston’s expression didn’t change. He stood there with that same cold smile, like he was watching a child throw a tantrum.

That only made her angrier.

“You,” she said, pointing at Winston, “orchestrated this whole thing. The appointment. The ultrasound. Bringing her—” she gestured sharply at Yahmaria, “—here to humiliate me. To remind me I’m nothing but a fucking surrogate.”

“Truth, you need to calm down,” Winston said smoothly.

“Fuck you.” The words came out sharper than a blade. “I don’t need to do shit.”

She turned to Yahmaria next, and I saw Yahmaria’s expression flicker with something that might have been fear.

“And you,” Truth continued, her voice dripping with contempt. “Standing there with your red lips and your arrogance like you have any right to be here. You knew what he was doing. You knew he was with me. And you still showed up to mark your territory.”

Yahmaria opened her mouth, but Truth cut her off.

“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t give a fuck about your marriage or your arrangement or whatever bullshit excuse you’re about to give me. You’re just as complicit as they are.”

Then she turned to me.

And the look in her eyes—God, the look in her eyes—it gutted me.

“And you.” Her voice broke slightly, and I hated that I was the one who’d put that pain there. “You lied to me. You looked me in the face and told me I was yours. You made love to me. You held me while I threw up. You promised to keep me safe.”

“I am keeping you safe⁠—”

“By lying to me?” She laughed, bitter and sharp. “By hiding the fact that you have a wife? By letting me fall for you while you were married to someone else?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like, Amai?” She stepped closer, and I could see the tears threatening to spill over. “Tell me. Explain to me how any of this is okay. Explain to me how I’m supposed to trust anything you say when you’ve been lying to me from the beginning.”

I couldn’t.

There was no explanation that would make this right. No words that would undo the damage. And she knew it.

“That’s what I thought.” She grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m done with all of you.”

“Truth, wait—” I moved toward her, but she held up a hand.