6. TRUTH #4
The lake house appeared through the trees—wood and glass, modern but understated, sitting right on the water’s edge.
It was beautiful.
Peaceful.
Nothing like the extravagant estate in the Garden District.
This felt… real.
Amai put the car in park and killed the engine.
But I didn’t move.
Couldn’t move.
My body was stiff. Sharp pains snapped through my chest. The weight of everything that had happened in the past few hours pressed down on me until I couldn’t breathe.
“Truth.”
His voice cut through the silence.
But underneath it was something raw.
I turned to look at him.
His eyes were on me—dark, intense, unreadable.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said quietly.
I wanted to believe him.
But I’d just watched him stab his own brother.
Watched him nearly kill a doctor.
Watched something in him break open that I’d never seen before.
“Okay,” I whispered.
He got out of the car and came around to my side.
Opened the door.
Extended his hand.
I stared at it for a long moment.
Then took it.
Inside, the lake house was even more beautiful than the outside.
High ceilings. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the water. Exposed beams and clean lines. Furniture that looked comfortable instead of expensive.
It was the kind of place you could breathe in.
The kind of place that felt like home.
I stood in the middle of the living room, my arms wrapped around myself, still trying to process everything.
Amai closed the door behind us.
Locked it.
Then just stood there, watching me.
“Sit,” he said finally.
I moved to the couch and sat down.
He didn’t sit next to me.
Instead, he walked to the windows and stared out at the water, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders tense.
The silence stretched.
And stretched.
And then—
“I’m in love with you.”
The words hit me like a physical blow.
I went completely still.
“I didn’t plan it,” he continued, his voice rough. “Didn’t want it. Tried to fight it. But it doesn’t matter. I’m in love with you, Truth. And that means I can’t let you stay at your mama’s house anymore.”
I found my voice. “What?”
He turned to face me.
“You’re not safe there. If Kaisen survived—if he believes that baby could be his—he won’t stop trying to get to you.
And my father…” He stopped. Shook his head.
“My father orchestrated all of this. The dual sperm. The secrecy. He’s been controlling this from the beginning. Which means you’re a target now.”
“So what?” My voice came out sharper than I intended. “You’re just going to lock me up somewhere? Keep me prisoner?”
“That’s not what this is—”
“Then what is it?” I stood up, my hands clenched into fists. “Because it sounds like you’re telling me I don’t get a choice anymore.”
“You have a choice,” Amai said, his voice tight. “But the choice is between being safe or being dead. And I’m not letting you die because you’re too stubborn to accept protection.”
“I’m not—”
“Kaisen won’t stop.” His voice was flat. Final. “If he thinks that baby is his, he’ll come for you. And he won’t be gentle about it.”
I stared at him.
At the man who’d just confessed he loved me.
At the man who’d beaten his brother bloody in a clinic lobby.
At the man who was asking me to give up my freedom for safety.
“Amai,” I said quietly. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
He went still.
“During the insemination,” I continued, my voice shaking. “I overheard something. The nurse… she said something about two samples. I didn’t understand it at the time. I was new to all of this, and I just thought maybe that was normal. But now…”
I trailed off.
Amai’s face had gone completely blank.
“Now what?” His voice was barely a whisper.
“Now I think Kaisen might be telling the truth.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Amai didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Just stood there, staring at me like I’d just driven a knife into his chest.
And then—
He turned away.
Walked to the windows.
Pressed his palms flat against the glass.
His shoulders started shaking.
“Amai—”
“Don’t.” His voice cracked. “Just… don’t.”
I watched him.
Watched the way his entire body seemed to collapse on itself.
Watched the way his head dropped forward until his forehead rested against the glass.
“The one thing,” he said, his voice so quiet I almost didn’t hear it. “The one fucking thing that was supposed to be mine. That I—”
He stopped.
His hands curled into fists against the glass.
“They took it from me,” he whispered. “My own family. They took the one thing I needed to prove—”
His voice broke completely.
And I realized what this was really about.
Not just the baby.
Not just the betrayal.
This was about legacy.
About legitimacy.
About a man who’d spent his entire life building an empire, only to discover that the one thing he wanted most—the one thing he needed most—might not even be his.
“Amai,” I said softly.
He didn’t respond.
Just stood there, broken, staring out at the water.
And I didn’t know how to fix it.
Didn’t know if it could be fixed.
All I knew was that the man who’d confessed his love for me—
Was the same man whose entire world had just shattered.
And I was the one who’d delivered the final blow.