Page 72 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 3

I returned it.

Nothing was said.

Nothing needed to be.

We understood.

Kaisen threw the SUV into gear, and we peeled out of the warehouse district, leaving the bodies and the blood behind.

The city blurred past the windows—dark streets, flickering streetlights, the occasional car passing in the opposite direction.

I kept my eyes forward, my hands still gripping my gun, my mind racing.

Victor and Rahsaan had escaped.

They’d live to fight another day.

And that meant this war was far from over.

“I told you,” I said quietly.

Winston’s head turned slightly in the backseat. “What?”

“I told you not to trust Victor.” My voice was calm. Cold. “I told you he was playing you. I told you he’d turn on us the second it benefited him.”

Silence.

“And you didn’t listen.”

Winston exhaled slowly, his hand still pressed against his wound. “You think I don’t know that?”

“I think you let your ego get in the way of good judgment.”

“Amai—”

“He stole fifty million dollars from us, Winston. He teamed up with the man who killed Elias and Silas. And now we’re in the middle of a war we can’t afford because you trusted the wrong person.”

The words hung in the air, sharp and unforgiving.

Kaisen’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, watching Winston’s reaction.

But Winston didn’t explode.

He didn’t rage or threaten or pull a gun.

He just sat there, bleeding, his face pale in the dim light from the dashboard.

“You’re right,” he said finally.

I blinked.

“What?”

“You’re right.” Winston’s voice was quieter now, but no less commanding. “I made a mistake. And now we’re all paying for it.”

I turned in my seat to look at him directly.

His eyes were still sharp despite the blood loss. Still calculating.