Page 99 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 4

“Amai,” I warned, stepping up beside him and putting a hand on his shoulder. I looked down at Kaisen. “You can come in for five minutes. That’s it. Then you leave. You’ll see Tru when WE are ready and not a moment before. I’m allowing you this one out of compassion because I know you Landrys don’t get that often.”

Amai cut his eyes at me, furious, but he didn’t argue in the open. He just stepped aside, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack bone like a hippo, watching Kaisen’s every move as my brother-in-law walked up the steps and into the living room.

Trumai had just stirred in her bassinet, blinking her big, dark eyes as she stretched her little arms over her head.

Kaisen set the gift bag on the coffee table. His eyes locked onto the baby, and for a second, his expression went completely raw—a look of hunger and recognition so intense it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“Look at her,” Kaisen whispered, taking a step toward the bassinet. “She’s gotten so big.”

“Stay where you are,” Amai said from behind him, leaning against the front doorframe with his arms crossed. “You look with your eyes.”

Kaisen turned slowly, looking at me with a pained, pleading expression. “Can I just hold her for a second, Truth? Please. Just one minute.”

I looked at Amai. Amai’s eyes were pure murder, but he gave a single, reluctant jerk of his chin that meant handle it fast.

“One minute,” I said.

I leaned down and lifted Trumai into my arms, making sure she was settled before carefully transferring her into Kaisen’s outstretched hands.

The second Kaisen’s fingers closed around her ribs, Trumai’s little face contorted.

She didn’t just whimper. She opened her mouth and let out an ear-piercing, blood-curdling shriek of pure terror. Her tiny fists flew into the air, her face turning bright red as she arched her back, kicking furiously against his shirt like she was trying to fight her way out of a trap.

Kaisen’s eyes widened. “Hey… hey, sweetheart, it’s okay. It’s Uncle Kaisen. Shh, shh…”

He tried to rock her, shifting his weight, but the tighter he held her, the harder she screamed. It was a guttural, frantic cry that filled the entire house.

“Give me my damn daughter,” Amai snarled.

In one stride, Amai crossed the floor, snatched Trumai right out of Kaisen’s arms, and pulled her against his chest.

The moment Trumai smelled Amai’s skin, her screaming choked down to heavy, hiccuping sobs. She buried her face into Amai’s neck, her tiny fingers clutching the collar of his thermal shirt for dear life.

Amai stroked the back of her head, glaring at Kaisen like he wanted to rip his throat out and smack him across the face with it.

I cleared my throat, trying to smooth over the suffocating tension in the room. “She’s… she’s just cranky. She missed her morning feeding schedule and she’s teething a little.”

Amai slowly cut his eyes toward me, raising one eyebrow with a look that said: Bitch, you know damn well that baby just rejected this nigga with her whole chest.

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing and looked away.

Kaisen stood there with his empty hands hovering in the air, his face pale and tight. The embarrassment in his eyes was palpable, but beneath it was something colder—a sharp, wounded resentment that flickered across his face before he managed to force that polite mask back on.

“I understand,” Kaisen said. “Babies get fussy with people they don’t know well yet. I’ll let you all get back to your evening.”

“Yeah,” Amai said, bouncing Trumai lightly on his shoulder. “Do that.”

Kaisen looked at me one last time. “Good luck on your clinicals, Truth. I know how important that license is to you.”

“Thank you, Kaisen,” I said.

He turned and walked out the front door, closing the screen softly behind him. We stood in the living room, listening to the sound of his Audi starting up and pulling away down the street.

The second the car was gone, Amai turned to me, his face dead serious.

“That nigga is never touching my child again.”

“Amai—”