Page 116 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 3

“What do you want me to say, Syx?” Her voice rose slightly, frustration bleeding through. “That I’m gonna spill everything I know, and hope Amai decides to let me live? You think he’s gonna honor some bargain? You think he’s gonna look at me and see anything other than Victor’s daughter?”

“I think he’ll see someone who’s trying to survive,” I said. “Same as the rest of us.”

Yaya laughed—sharp and bitter. “You don’t know him like I do.”

“And you don’t know him like I do.” I pressed harder against the glass, like I could push through it if I just tried hard enough. “He’s not a monster, Yaya. He’s just⁠—”

“Just what?” She stood abruptly, crossing the small space to press her own hand against the barrier, mirroring mine. “Just a man who locks people in cages? Just a man who shoots his own brother? Just a man who⁠—”

“Just a man who’s trying to protect what’s his,” I interrupted. “Same as your father. Same as Winston. Same as all of them.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“I didn’t say it did.” I held her gaze through the glass. “But it makes it real. And if you want to survive this, you gotta work with what’s real.”

Yaya’s hand slid down the glass slowly, her fingers leaving faint streaks. “You really think telling Amai what he wants to know is gonna save me?”

“I think it’s your best shot.”

She was quiet for a moment, her eyes searching mine.

“What if I don’t know anything?” she asked softly. “What if Victor didn’t tell me shit because he knew this would happen?”

“Then you tell Amai that.” I shrugged. “But you gotta give him something. Even if it’s just the truth.”

Yaya turned away from the glass and sank back down to the floor, her back against the wall.

“This isn’t just some fuck to me,” I said, the words coming out before I could stop them.

She looked up sharply. “What?”

“You and me.” I gestured vaguely between us, even though the wall made the gesture meaningless. “This. Whatever this is. It’s not just sex or some temporary thing I’m gonna forget about when we get out of here.”

“Syx.”

“I want to see where this goes,” I continued, my voice steady even though my chest felt tight. “I want to see what we could be if we weren’t locked in these fuckin’ cells.”

Yaya stared at me, and for a moment, I thought she might laugh.

But she didn’t.

“We’re not going anywhere,” she said quietly.

“Why not?”

“Because we’re locked in cells, Syx.” She gestured around the small space. “Because you’re twenty years old and caught in a war you don’t understand.”

“I understand enough.”

“Do you?” She stood again, her movements sharp and agitated. “You think this is some Romeo and Juliet shit? You think we’re gonna ride off into the sunset together?”

“I think we got a chance,” I said. “If we fight for it.”

“A chance at what?” Her voice cracked. “At being hunted by Victor? By Amai? By Winston? At spending the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders?”

“At being together.” I pressed both hands against the glass now, leaning forward. “At being something other than pawns in their fuckin’ game.”

Yaya’s eyes glistened, and she turned away quickly, swiping at her face.