Page 107 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 4

“I know.”

“If he hurts her—if he touches my daughter⁠—”

“Then we’ll handle it.” Priest’s jaw was set, his hands steady on the wheel. “But first we find them. And we can’t do that if you’re dead in a ditch on I-10.”

I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, trying to breathe through the rage and terror clawing at my chest.

Truth had called me. I’d heard it in her voice—that edge of confusion, the question she was trying to ask. And I’d brushed her off. Told her I was handling business. Hung up before she could explain what was wrong.

I’d been so focused on the manufactured crisis that I’d missed the real one.

My failure had cost me everything.

The house was exactly as I’d left it that morning.

Priest pulled into the circular drive and cut the engine. I was out of the car before it fully stopped, taking the front steps three at a time and slamming through the door hard enough to crack the frame.

“Brandon!” My voice echoed through the empty foyer. “Get the security room online now!”

Brandon appeared from the kitchen, phone already in hand. “Boss, I’ve been trying to reach you⁠—”

“Security footage. Interior cameras. Last two hours. Pull it up.”

We moved through the house to the converted study where the security monitors lined one wall. Brandon’s fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up the feeds and scrubbing backward through the timeline.

“There.” I pointed at the screen showing the front entrance. “19:02. That’s when he arrived.”

We watched in silence as Kaisen’s Audi pulled up to the gate. Watched as my own security team—men I paid, men I trusted—opened the gate without hesitation and waved him through. No, I hadn’t been tagging his ass lately because I thought we’d moved forward. That was still no fucking reason my people should’ve let him through those gates.

The interior camera showed Truth in the living room with Trumai in the electric swing. She looked tired. Beautiful. Unaware.

Kaisen knocked.

Truth answered.

I watched her face change as he spoke—confusion giving way to alarm, then reluctant acceptance as he fed her the lie. She pulled out her phone. Called me.

And I’d answered with chaos in the background, my voice clipped and urgent, confirming every word of Kaisen’s bullshit story without meaning to.

“Fuck.” The word came out strangled. “Fuck, I did this. I handed her to him.”

“You didn’t know,” Priest said quietly.

“I should have known. I should have made sure she understood⁠—”

“Amai.”

“She tried to tell me something was wrong, and I shut her down because I was too busy chasing ghosts Kaisen put in front of me⁠—”

“Amai.” Priest gripped my shoulder hard enough to hurt. “We don’t have time for this. Watch the rest.”

I forced myself to focus on the screen.

Truth moved through the house, gathering the diaper bag. She lifted Trumai from the swing with the kind of careful tenderness only a mother could have. She secured the baby into the carrier, checked the straps twice, and followed Kaisen out the door.

The timestamp read 19:17 when Kaisen’s Audi pulled back through the gate and disappeared into the evening traffic.

“How do you want to handle this?” Priest asked.