Page 37 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 3

We drove back through the darkening streets of New Orleans in silence, the weight of what was coming pressing down on all of us.

Tomorrow night, we’d walk into that warehouse.

Tomorrow night, we’d face Victor and whatever trap he’d laid for us.

Tomorrow night, everything would change.

But tonight—tonight we prepared.

Tonight we planned.

And tonight, for the first time in weeks, Kaisen and I were on the same side.

United.

Wary.

But together.

And that had to be enough.

After I dropped them off I drove to Priest’s place with the windows down, letting the night air cut through the fog in my head.

All of this was because of Winston. Because of his greed and lust for power and control. This won’t be over until he looks me in my eyes as the light goes out in his. My mama will be better off without him.

I pulled up to the small house on the edge of the Seventh Ward—one of Priest’s safe spots, a place he kept off the books for moments exactly like this. The porch light was on, and I could see movement through the front window.

Relief hit me harder than I expected.

I killed the engine and sat there for a moment, my hands still gripping the steering wheel, trying to pull myself together.

Everything was falling apart.

And Truth⁠—

Truth.

The woman I’d lied to. The woman I’d tried to protect by keeping her in the dark. The woman who’d walked out of that clinic and told me she was done.

I exhaled slowly and forced myself out of the truck.

The front door opened before I could knock.

Priest stood there, looking tired but whole. No visible injuries. No bruises. No blood.

Just exhaustion etched into every line of his face.

“You good?” I asked, my voice rougher than I intended.

“Yeah.” He stepped aside to let me in. “I’m good.”

I walked into the small living room and turned to face him. “They hurt you?”

“No.” Priest closed the door and leaned against it, arms crossed. “They held me in a parish jail. Off the books. Thibodeaux’s spot. Kept me in a cell, fed me, didn’t lay a hand on me.”

I frowned. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” Priest’s eyes met mine, steady and knowing. “But they made it clear it could get a lot worse if Winston decided it needed to.”