Page 12 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 3

I thought about Winston—how he’d walked into that exam room like he owned me, like my body was just a vessel for his family’s legacy. An heir and a spare. Like I was livestock.

I thought about Dr. Beaumont—how she’d smiled at me, reassured me, told me everything was fine, when the whole time, she was complicit in this nightmare.

I thought about every man who’d ever made a decision about my body without asking me.

Phillip, who’d destroyed my credit and my future.

Amai, who’d used me to build his legacy.

Kaisen, who’d manipulated me into trusting him.

Winston, who saw me as nothing more than an incubator.

And I realized something.

I was done.

I was done letting men control my life.

I was done letting them make decisions for me.

I was done being a pawn in their games.

I sat up in the tub, water sloshing over the sides, and wiped my face with both hands.

My tears had stopped. My chest still ached, but it wasn’t the ache of heartbreak anymore.

It was the ache of fury.

I looked down at my stomach again, at the babies growing inside me, and made a vow.

No matter what Amai said, no matter what he did, no matter how much he tried to charm me or manipulate me or convince me that he cared—I was staying away from him.

I was taking control of my own life.

I was taking control of my medical care, my future, my body.

These babies were mine. Not his. Not Winston’s. Not the Landry family’s.

Mine.

And I was going to protect them.

I was going to finish my nursing degree. I was going to build a life for myself and my children that didn’t depend on any man’s money or approval or love.

I was going to reclaim my power.

Because I’d spent too long being powerless.

I’d spent too long letting men define me, control me, use me.

And I was done.

I stood up in the tub, water streaming off my body, and reached for a towel. I dried myself off slowly, deliberately, feeling the softness of the fabric against my skin.

I looked at myself in the mirror—my eyes red and swollen, my face blotchy from crying, my hair damp and clinging to my neck.

But beneath the exhaustion and the pain, I saw something else.