Page 48 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 3

He wasn’t playing games.

He was willing to die for me.

The realization hit me like a freight train.

“You chose her over me.” Amai’s face was inches from his. “Over family.”

“I chose her over a lie,” Syx rasped. “You don’t love her. You never did. And nigga you got some balls saying that shit after you violated the entire family over a BITCH!”

“That’s not the fuckin’ point!”

Amai threw him.

Syx’s body hit the coffee table, and the wood splintered under him. He hit the floor in a heap of broken furniture and didn’t move for a second.

“No—” I ran toward him, but Amai’s hand closed around my arm again and yanked me back.

I shoved him. I clawed at his grip. “Get off me⁠—”

He shoved me.

Not a grab this time—a shove, and I flew backward onto the couch, tumbled off the edge, and hit the floor. I lay there for a moment with the air knocked out of me, the ceiling spinning.

“Yaya.” Syx was on his feet. He was bleeding from his lip and moving wrong on one side, but he was still trying to get to me. “Yaya⁠—”

“I’m fine.” I pushed myself up. My side screamed. “I’m fine, stop⁠—”

But I wasn’t fine.

None of us were.

“You’re a fuckin’ hypocrite!” I screamed at Amai, my voice raw with rage and terror. “You threw your own brother in a concrete hole over a surrogate you just started fucking! How is what we did any different?”

“Bitch, don’t question me about shit. You’re a weird ass bitch,” his voice cold. “Fuckin’ on Syx when you know he’s fucked up in the head about his mama. When you know he watched her die. When you know he’s got night terrors and trauma he can’t even process.”

“I’m not a fuckin’ kid!” Syx shouted, stepping between us. “Stop talking about me like I’m some broken thing you have to protect!”

“I’ve been taking care of you like one your whole life!” Amai shot back. “I’ve been the one who held you when you woke up screaming! I’ve been the one who made sure you ate, who made sure you had a roof over your head, who made sure you didn’t fall apart!”

“And I’m grateful for that,” Syx said, his voice shaking. “But I’m not yours to control. I’m not yours to decide for.”

“Then what are you?”

“I’m hers.” Syx looked at me, and the love in his eyes was so raw, so undeniable, that it made my chest tighten. “I’m taking her, and we’re leaving.”

Amai laughed—sharp, humorless. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“You can’t stop us.”

“Watch me.”

Amai pulled the gun from his back holster and leveled it at Syx.

I screamed. The sound came out of me without permission, high and ugly.

Syx didn’t move.

He stood with his bleeding face, possible cracked ribs, and looked directly at Amai, not backing up a single inch.