11. TRUTH #4
I needed to pay attention. To ask questions. To demand answers.
I needed to protect myself.
And I needed to protect my baby.
Even if that meant protecting us from the man I was starting to fall for.
And then it hit me.
Like a ton of bricks dropped from the sky, crushing the air out of my lungs.
I didn’t know whose baby I was carrying.
Not really.
I’d been so caught up in everything else—the violence, the power struggle, the way Amai looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered—that I’d let that fundamental truth slip to the background.
But it was there. It had always been there.
Two specimens. Two brothers. One baby.
And I had no idea which one was the father.
My hand moved to my stomach instinctively, pressing against the slight swell that was just beginning to show. My baby. Mine. But also… whose?
The question terrified me.
Because the answer mattered. It mattered in ways I didn’t want to admit.
I’d fallen for Amai. Hard. Harder than I’d ever fallen for anyone, including Phillip. What I felt for Amai was consuming, overwhelming, dangerous. It was the kind of feeling that made you forget who you were, made you lose yourself in someone else’s gravity.
But there was a part of me—a small, quiet part that I didn’t want to acknowledge—that felt safer thinking about Kaisen.
Even after everything.
Even after what I’d seen Amai do to him.
Because Kaisen didn’t feel like the mastermind behind this. He just didn’t. I’d met him. I’d talked to him. He’d been charming, yes. Manipulative, maybe. But he didn’t feel like the kind of man who could orchestrate something this elaborate, this calculated.
Two specimens. Two brothers’ DNA used without my knowledge or consent.
That wasn’t the work of one jealous younger brother trying to one-up his sibling. That was bigger. That required resources, connections, access to a fertility clinic’s internal systems.
There had to be a bigger player.
Someone else I hadn’t even met yet?
And Amai… God, Amai was too obsessed with having a baby, with having me, to even consider he might be behind the original scheme. His obsession felt genuine. Raw. Like something that had been buried deep inside him for years and was only now clawing its way to the surface.
But that didn’t mean he was innocent of other things.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t hiding something.
I turned away from the window and looked around the empty, sterile cabin again.
And that’s when the real realization hit me.
Everyone in the Landry family had been making decisions about my body except me.
Kaisen. Amai.
They’d all been moving pieces around a board, and I was the board. I was the territory they were fighting over. I was the prize, the leverage, the thing to be controlled and claimed.
Not once—not once—had anyone asked me what I wanted.
Not when my egg was harvested.
Not when it was fertilized.
Not when Kaisen’s sperm was added to the mix.
Not when Amai decided I needed to be protected.
Not when he brought me here, to this beautiful, empty cabin in the middle of nowhere.
I’d been reacting. Surviving. Trying to keep my head above water while everyone else made decisions that affected my life, my body, my future.
And I was done.
I was done being passive. Done being the thing that stuff happened to instead of the person making things happen.
My mama’s words echoed in my head again, louder this time.
Lock the fuck in.
I needed answers. Real answers. Not Amai’s version of the truth. Not what he thought I needed to know. Not what he decided was safe for me to hear.
I needed to know whose baby I was carrying.
And I needed to find out on my own terms.
It was different when I was a surrogate. When this was just a contract. I could trust the process then because I wasn’t emotionally involved. I was providing a service. I was helping someone build a family.
But we were clearly more than a contract now.
Last night, in front of that fireplace, when Amai had looked into my eyes and told me I wasn’t alone anymore—that had been real. That had been more than sex. More than physical.
That had been a claiming.
And that changed everything.
Because if I was going to be with him—if I was going to let myself fall completely—I needed to know the truth. All of it.
I couldn’t do this blind.
I couldn’t trust his word. Not about something this big. Not when so much was at stake.
I needed my own DNA test. One that I paid for. One that I controlled. One that gave me answers that belonged to me and no one else. I’d get my own OB/GYN.
My hands were shaking as I pulled my phone out of my pocket.
I was scared. Terrified, actually.
Because what if the baby was Kaisen’s? What would that mean for me and Amai? Would he still want me? Would he still look at me the way he did last night, like I was the answer to a question he’d been asking his whole life?
Or would I become a reminder of his brother’s violation? A symbol of everything that had been taken from him?
And what if the baby was Amai’s?
Would that make everything easier? Or would it just trap me deeper in a world I didn’t fully understand, with a man who was capable of violence I couldn’t even imagine?
I didn’t know.
But I needed to find out.
I scrolled through my contacts until I found Raven’s name.
My finger hovered over the call button for a moment.
Once I made this call, there was no going back. Once I left this cabin, once I stepped outside of Amai’s protection and control, I was making a choice. I was choosing myself.
And that was terrifying.
But it was also necessary.
I pressed the button.
Raven answered on the second ring. “Truth? You good?”
Her voice was concerned, protective. My sister. My family. The people who had been there for me when Phillip destroyed my life. The people who would be there for me now.
“I need you to come get me,” I said. My voice was steady. Calmer than I felt. “Right now.”
There was a pause on the other end. I could hear Raven processing, deciding whether to ask questions or just act.
She chose action.
“Where you at?”
I pulled up my location on my phone and sent it to her. “I just sent you the address. It’s about an hour outside the city. A lakehouse.”
“Amai’s lakehouse?”
“Yeah.”
Another pause. Longer this time.
“He know you leaving?”
“No.”
“Truth—”
“Raven, please.” My voice cracked slightly, and I hated it. Hated the vulnerability. But I needed her to understand. “I just need you to come get me. I’ll explain everything when you get here. But I need to leave. Now.”
I heard her exhale on the other end. Then her voice came back, firm and certain.
“I’m on the fuckin’ way.”
Relief flooded through me so fast I almost started crying.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Just be ready. I’m leaving now.”
She hung up.
I stood there in the middle of the living room, phone still in my hand, heart pounding.
I’d done it.
I’d made the choice.
Now I just had to follow through.
I walked back to the bedroom and started gathering my things. I didn’t have much—just the clothes I’d been wearing when Amai brought me here, my phone, my wallet.
I moved quickly, efficiently, trying not to think too hard about what I was doing.
Because if I thought about it—if I let myself feel the full weight of walking away from Amai after last night—I might not be able to do it.
And I had to do it.
For me. For my baby. For the life I was trying to build.
I couldn’t be a pawn anymore.
I couldn’t let other people make decisions about my body, my future, my child.
I needed to take control.
Even if it meant walking away from the man I was falling in love with.
Even if it meant facing whatever came next alone.
I zipped up my bag and stood in the doorway of the bedroom, looking back at the bed where Amai and I had slept last night.
The sheets were still rumpled. The pillows still held the impression of our heads.
It had felt so safe. So right.
But safety was an illusion when it came with conditions. When it required me to give up my autonomy. When it meant trusting someone else to tell me the truth about my own life.
I turned away and walked out of the room.
I didn’t know what was going to happen next.
I didn’t know how Amai would react when he came back and found me gone.
I didn’t know if I was making the right choice.
But I knew I was making my choice.
And that was enough.
I sat on the couch in the living room, bag at my feet, and waited for my sister to arrive.
The lake outside the window was still calm. Still beautiful.
But I wasn’t looking at it anymore.
I was looking forward.
Toward answers. Toward truth. Toward a future where I wasn’t just surviving—I was living.
On my own terms.