18. TRUTH #3
When I opened the door, Amai stood on my porch in a black suit, no tie, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He looked immaculate. Fine as the fuck. But there was something in his eyes—something cold and distant—that made my stomach twist.
“Ready?” he asked.
No greeting. No warmth. Just business.
“Yeah,” I said quietly, grabbing my purse from the hook by the door.
The walk to his car was silent. He opened the passenger door for me, and I slid in without a word. The interior smelled like leather and his cologne—something dark and expensive that I’d come to associate with him.
He got in the driver’s seat and started the engine, pulling away from the curb with practiced ease.
The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.
I stared out the window, watching the Seventh Ward roll by—shotgun houses with peeling paint, corner stores with hand-painted signs, kids playing on porches despite the morning chill.
This was my world.
And Amai was from somewhere else entirely.
“You’ve been quiet,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.
“You asked for space,” Amai replied, his eyes on the road. “I gave it to you.”
“Space doesn’t mean disappearing.”
“I didn’t disappear. I’ve been handling business.”
“Business.” I turned to look at him. “Is that what I am to you? Business?”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer.
The silence returned, heavier than before.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to demand answers. I wanted to know why he felt so far away when just weeks ago he’d held me like I was the only thing keeping him alive.
But I didn’t.
Because I was scared of what the answer might be.
“Your father came to see me,” I said finally.
The car swerved slightly before Amai corrected it. His knuckles went white on the steering wheel.
“When?” His voice was low. Dangerous.
“Yesterday morning. He let himself into my house.”
Amai’s entire body went rigid. The temperature in the car seemed to drop ten degrees.
“What did he say to you?”
“He told me I was disrupting his family. That I was making you and Kaisen weak. That I should take my money and disappear.”
Amai’s breathing changed—shallow, controlled, like he was fighting to keep himself in check.
“Did he touch you?”
“No. But he threatened me. He said I had no idea who you and Kaisen really are. That I wasn’t strong enough to survive what’s coming.”
The muscle in Amai’s jaw ticked. He pulled the car over abruptly, tires screeching slightly as he jerked to a stop on the side of the road.
He turned to me, his eyes blazing with something I couldn’t name.
“Listen to me very carefully,” he said, his voice deadly quiet. “You do not open your door for Winston. Ever. You hear me?”
“Amai—”
“Ever.” He leaned closer, his presence overwhelming. “My father is not a man you can reason with. He’s not a man you can negotiate with. He will smile at you while he destroys everything you love. Do you understand?”
My heart was pounding. “Yes.”
“If he shows up again, you call me immediately. You don’t engage. You don’t let him in. You call me. And that goes for Kaisen too.”
Amai stared at me for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with barely controlled rage. Then he pulled back and put the car in drive, merging back onto the road.
But the tension didn’t dissipate.
If anything, it got worse.
“How did you know Kaisen’s been coming by?” I asked quietly.
Amai’s expression didn’t change. “I know everything, Truth.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I have eyes everywhere. It means I know when you leave your house, where you go, who you see. It means I know Kaisen’s been visiting you three times a week. It means I know he went to Baby Bliss Boutique and bought a bunch of baby shit.”
My blood ran cold.
“You’ve been watching me?”
“I’ve been protecting you.”
“That’s not protection, Amai. That’s surveillance.”
“Call it whatever you want.” His voice was flat. “But as long as you’re carrying my child, I’m going to know where you are and who you’re with.”
“Our child,” I corrected, my voice shaking. “And you don’t own me.”
“I never said I did.”
“Then stop acting like it!”
The car went silent again.
I pressed my hands against my thighs, trying to steady myself. The realization was crashing over me in waves: I wasn’t free. I’d never been free. From the moment I signed that contract, from the moment Amai decided I was his, I’d been in a cage.
And the bars were closing in.
We pulled into the parking lot of New Beginnings Fertility Center, and my stomach twisted into knots.
This place.
This goddamn place where everything had started.
Amai parked and turned off the engine. For a moment, neither of us moved.
“I’m not trying to control you,” he said finally, his voice softer now. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“By spying on me?”
“By knowing when you’re in danger.”
“And Kaisen?” I turned to face him. “Is he a danger?”
Amai’s eyes darkened. “Yes.”
“He could be the father of my child.”
“Maybe.”
The word hung between us like a blade.
Amai got out of the car and opened my door. He extended his hand to help me, but I didn’t take it. Amai just walked off without addressing it.
I followed, my legs unsteady as we walked toward the entrance.
The clinic was exactly as I remembered it—sterile, cold, filled with the faint smell of antiseptic and the hum of fluorescent lights.
The receptionist looked up as we entered, and her smile faltered when she saw Amai.
“Mr. Landry,” she said, her voice tight. “Dr. Beaumont is expecting you.”
“Good.”
We were led down a hallway to an exam room, and I climbed onto the table, the paper crinkling beneath me.
Dr. Beaumont entered a moment later, and I watched her face drop when she saw Amai standing in the corner, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
“Mr. Landry,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Ms. Renois. How are you feeling?”