Page 121 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 4

Chapter 21

KAISEN

The bridge was quiet except for the low hum of the engines and the soft beep of the navigation system recalculating our position every few seconds. Hector stood at the helm, his weathered hands steady on the wheel, his eyes fixed on the dark water ahead.

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me with a soft click.

Hector didn’t turn around, but his shoulders tensed. He knew I was there.

“How’s she handling?” I asked, my voice easy, conversational.

“Good,” Hector said. His accent was thick—Honduran, maybe Nicaraguan. “No problems. We make good time.”

“Good.” I moved closer, standing just behind his left shoulder so he could see me in his peripheral vision. “Did Truth ask you for help?”

Hector’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look at me. “Sí. Yes. She ask.”

“And?”

“I no understand English.” He said it flat, rehearsed. “I no respond. Like you say.”

“Good man.” I clapped him on the shoulder, and he flinched slightly under my hand. “You did exactly what I needed you to do.”

Hector finally glanced at me, his dark eyes wary. “I no want problems, señor. I just want to go. You promise. When we get to Port Bolivar, I go. You pay me, I go.”

“All is well, Hector.” I smiled—warm, reassuring, the kind of smile that made people think everything was fine, even when it wasn’t. “You’ll get your money. You’ll get off at Port Bolivar just like we agreed. No problems.”

He nodded, but the tension didn’t leave his shoulders.

I let my hand linger on his shoulder for just a second longer than necessary, then stepped back. “Keep us steady. I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

“Sí, señor.”

I left the bridge and walked down the narrow corridor toward the master bedroom, my heart pounding with anticipation.

The DNA test.

I’d been thinking about it for weeks—planning it, preparing for it, knowing that once I had proof, everything would change. Truth would have to see. She’d have to understand.

I pulled the key from my pocket and unlocked the master bedroom door.

The room was dark except for the faint glow of the bedside lamp I’d left on low. Truth was asleep on the bed, curled on her side, with one hand tucked under her cheek. Her breathing was slow and even, her face soft and unguarded in a way I hadn’t seen since before Amai poisoned her against me.

I’d been watching her on the hidden cameras all evening. I’d seen her pace the room, seen her checking drawers, seen her finally give up and drink one of the small bottles of water from the mini-fridge.

The water I’d prepared.

It wasn’t much—just enough to help her relax, to take the edge off her panic so she could rest. She needed rest. The stress wasn’t good for her or the baby. I was protecting them both by making sure she could sleep.

That’s what I told myself as I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.

I crossed the room slowly, quietly, and sat on the edge of the bed beside her.

She didn’t stir.

I reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face, my fingers lingering against her warm skin. She was so beautiful like this—peaceful, safe, mine.

“I’m going to prove it to you,” I whispered. “I’m going to show you that she’s ours. That we’re a family.”