TRUTH #2
The screen showed an app I didn’t recognize—some kind of surveillance system with multiple camera feeds displayed in a grid. My eyes scanned the images quickly, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.
And then I froze.
One of the feeds showed a woman sitting on a cot in what looked like a cell. The walls were concrete, the lighting harsh and fluorescent. She was wearing an outfit that looked expensive but dirty, her hair disheveled, her face turned away from the camera.
But I recognized her.
Yahmaria.
My stomach twisted.
I swiped to the next feed.
Another cell. Another person.
This time it was a young man—barely more than a boy, really. He was sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, his head resting on his arms.
I knew him too.
Syx.
The cousin who had introduced himself to me during my initial interview for the surrogacy at Amai’s house. The one who’d been polite and charming, who’d made me feel welcome in a house that wasn’t mine.
He was in a cage.
They were both in cages.
Like animals. Like lab rats being monitored and studied.
My hands started to shake.
What the fuck is this?
I heard footsteps behind me and spun around, clutching the phone.
Amai stood in the doorway, a towel in his hand, his expression unreadable.
His eyes dropped to the phone in my hand.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then, I found my voice.
“What the fuck is this, Amai?”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. He just walked over slowly, deliberately, and set the towel down on the arm of the couch.
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” he said quietly.
“That’s not an answer.” My voice was shaking now, anger and fear mixing in a way that made my chest tight. “Why do you have them locked up like that? Why are you watching them like—like they’re prisoners?”
Amai sat down beside me, close enough that our knees touched, and reached for the phone.
I pulled it back.
“No. You’re going to explain this to me. Right now.”
He exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening, and then he leaned back against the couch.
“Yaya made my life a living hell,” he said, his voice flat. “She tried to do the same thing to you at that clinic. You saw it yourself.”
“I know that—”
“But that’s not why she’s there.” His eyes locked on mine, dark and intense. “She has information about where her father, Victor, is keeping my money. Money he stole from my family. Money we need to survive this war.”
I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying.
“So, you locked her up?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re just—what? Torturing her until she talks?”
“If that’s what it takes.” His voice was cold. Matter-of-fact. Like he was discussing the weather. “What Yaya knows places you and the babies in danger, Truth. Victor is coming for me, and if he thinks he can use you to get to me, he will. I’m not letting that happen.”
My throat felt tight.
He leaned forward, his face inches from mine.
“I refuse to apologize for protecting you. I refuse to apologize for doing what needs to be done to keep you and our children safe. That’s who I am, bae. That’s what I do.”
I swallowed hard.
“I’m not asking you to apologize,” I said quietly. “But I need you to hear me when I say this.”
I held his gaze, refusing to look away.
“I will not raise my children in a home where people disappear whenever you get angry. I won’t do it, Amai. I can’t.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.
“If you want me—if you want us—you need to understand that I’m not going to be okay with you hiding bodies in the backyard every time someone pisses you off. That’s not the life I want for my kids.”
Amai was silent for a long moment.
Then he spoke, his voice low and steady.
“I’m not capable of being harmless, Truth. That’s not who I am. I’ve done things—terrible things—and I’ll do them again if it means keeping you safe. I need you to accept that. I need you to accept all sides of me. Even the dark parts.”
Tears burned behind my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall.
“If you never hide anything from me,” I said slowly, “I can do that.”
His eyes searched mine.
“I saw the darkness in you the day we met,” I continued. “I saw it, and I didn’t run. Because I also saw something else. I saw your yearning for love. For connection. For something real.”
Amai’s hand moved to cup my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek.
“I can accept the darkness,” I whispered. “As long as you don’t hide it from me. As long as you let me in.”
He nodded slowly.
“I won’t hide from you.”
“Good.”
I glanced back down at the phone, at the image of Syx sitting alone in that cell.
“That explains Yaya,” I said. “But what about your cousin? What did Syx do?”
Amai’s expression shifted—something dark and bitter crossing his face.
“How do you know Syx?”
“He introduced himself to me the day I came for the interview,” I said. “He was polite. Friendly. He made me feel welcome.”
Amai let out a harsh laugh.
“Yeah. He’s good at that.”
“What does that mean?”
Amai leaned back, running a hand over his face.
“Syx and Yaya are fucking.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“They’re fucking,” Amai repeated, his voice flat. “Acting like they’re in love and shit. Like this is some kind of Romeo and Juliet bullshit.”
I stared at him.
And then I started laughing.
I couldn’t help it.
The absurdity of it all—the chaos, the betrayal, the sheer mess of this family—it was too much.
I laughed until tears streamed down my face, until my stomach hurt, until I was gasping for air.
“Your wife,” I managed between gasps, “is fucking your cousin?”
“Ex-wife,” Amai corrected, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes now. “Papers got signed yesterday.”
That only made me laugh harder.
“Oh, my God,” I wheezed. “This family is insane.”
“You’re just now figuring that out?”
I wiped my eyes, still grinning, and looked at him.
“Ex-wife, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Well,” I said, sliding off the couch and onto my knees in front of him, “that deserves a celebration.”
Amai’s eyes darkened as he watched me settle between his legs.
“Truth—”
“Shh.” I placed my hands on his thighs, feeling the muscles tense beneath my palms. “Just let me take care of you.”
I’d given head before.
Plenty of times.
But this—this was different.
This wasn’t about pleasing someone because I felt obligated or because I wanted something in return.
This was about control.
About showing Amai that I could take him apart just as easily as he’d taken me apart.
I wrapped my hand around the base of his dick, feeling it twitch in my grip, already half-hard again although we’d just finished.
Amai’s breath hitched.
I looked up at him through my lashes, holding his gaze as I leaned forward and dragged my tongue slowly up his length.
He groaned, his head falling back against the couch.
“Fuck, Truth—”
I took him into my mouth, just the tip at first, swirling my tongue around the head before pulling back.
His hips jerked forward involuntarily, seeking more.
I smiled.
This was going to be fun.
I took him deeper this time, hollowing my cheeks and sucking hard as I moved up and down his length. My hand worked in tandem with my mouth, stroking what I couldn’t fit.
Amai’s hands flew to my head, his fingers tangling in my hair, trying to guide my movements.
I pulled off immediately and slapped his hands away.
“No touching,” I said firmly, my voice low and commanding. “Just take it.”
His eyes widened slightly—surprise mixed with arousal—and he let his hands fall to his sides, gripping the edge of the couch instead.
“Good boy,” I murmured, and then I went back to work.
I took him deep, so deep I felt him hit the back of my throat, and I swallowed around him.
Amai’s entire body jerked.
“Fuck—Truth—”
I pulled back, letting saliva pool in my mouth, and then I spit on the tip of his dick, watching as it rolled down both sides.
Messy.
Wet.
Exactly how I liked it.
I’d earned the nickname Headmaster back in college, and I’d never had a single complaint.
Not that I was going to tell Amai that.
Let him think this was just for him.
I took him back into my mouth, deeper this time, and set a rhythm that had him trembling beneath me.
His breathing was ragged now, his chest heaving, and I could feel the tension building in his thighs.
“Truth—baby—I’m gonna—”
I didn’t stop.
I sucked harder, faster, my hand twisting at the base, and then I felt it.
His entire body went rigid.
He let out a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a scream, his toes curling against the hardwood floor, his fingers white-knuckled as they gripped the throw pillow beside him.
And then he came.
Hot and thick, shooting down the back of my throat.
I swallowed every drop, not stopping, not slowing, even as he gasped and shuddered beneath me.
“Truth—wait—I can’t—”
I didn’t wait.
I kept going, my mouth still working him, and I felt him start to harden again almost immediately.
His hands flew to my shoulders, trying to push me off.
“Truth—stop—I can’t—”
I grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the couch, holding him in place as I continued.
“Oh, shit—” His voice cracked, his entire body trembling. “Oh shit, I’m about to nut again—”
I pulled off just as I felt him start to tip over the edge, and then I climbed onto his lap, positioning myself over him.
His eyes were wild, unfocused, his chest heaving.
I sank onto him in one smooth motion, taking him all the way to the hilt.
Amai’s body buckled.
He came immediately, his release pulsing inside me as I rode him through it.
He jerked forward, wrapping his arms around me, his nails digging into my back as he buried his face in my neck.
“Fuck—Truth—fuck—”
I kept moving, grinding down on him, drawing out every last second of his orgasm until he was shaking, gasping, damn near in tears.
And then, in a move that made me burst out laughing, he pushed me to the side—carefully, so I didn’t hit the floor—and collapsed onto his back on the couch.
“I can’t,” he panted, one arm thrown over his eyes. “I can’t—you—fuck—”
I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe.
“You couldn’t take it?” I teased, grinning down at him. “I put that pussy on you something serious, huh?”