AMAI
Ipunched the steering wheel and cursed under my breath.
Fuck.
Raven had seen me.
I’d been careful—kept my distance, stayed just far enough back that I wouldn’t be obvious. But the moment I’d slowed down in front of Delphine’s house, Raven was walking back from her car, and our eyes locked.
The recognition on her face had been instant.
And now Truth knew I was out here.
I should’ve left. Should’ve driven off and given her the space she’d demanded. But I couldn’t.
Not after everything that had happened.
Not after the vault. Not after Victor. Not after realizing that the meeting tonight could go sideways in a hundred different ways—and if it did, I might not make it back to her.
I circled the block one more time, my mind racing.
Just leave. Give her space. Let her breathe.
But my hands turned the wheel back toward Delphine’s street.
Fuck it.
I parked two houses down and cut the engine.
The street was quiet, the evening settling into that soft twilight where the sky hadn’t fully darkened yet. A few porch lights flickered on. Somewhere down the block, kids were laughing.
Normal.
Peaceful.
Everything my life wasn’t.
I climbed out of the truck and walked toward the house, my leg still aching. I ignored the pain. I’d dealt with worse.
The porch light was on, casting a warm glow over the small front steps. I could see movement through the window—shadows shifting, voices muffled but animated.
They were still in there. All of them.
And they knew I was coming.
I climbed the steps and knocked twice.
The door opened almost immediately.
Delphine stood there, her arms crossed over her chest, her expression somewhere between annoyed and amused.
“You must want that ass tased again,” she said, her voice dry.
I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. “No, ma’am. I don’t.”
“Then what you doing on my porch, Amai Landry?”
I met her eyes—steady, unflinching. “I’m sorry for disrespecting you and your house the last time I saw you. That wasn’t right. But I need to see Truth. It’s important.”
Delphine studied me for a long moment, her gaze sharp and assessing. She was reading me the way only a mother could—looking past the suit, past the money, past the carefully constructed armor I wore.
She was looking for the truth.
Finally, she spoke.
“You upset my baby,” she said quietly, “and I got some hot lead for your ass. You understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I mean it, Amai. I don’t care who you are or what you got. You hurt her, and we got a problem.”
“I understand.”
She held my gaze for another beat, then stepped back and called over her shoulder.
“Truth! You got company.”
I heard footsteps, and then Truth appeared in the doorway behind her mother.
She looked tired. Beautiful, but tired. Her hair was pulled back, and she was wearing a simple T-shirt and leggings. No makeup. No pretense.
Just her.
And she was the most stunning thing I’d ever seen.
“Mama,” Truth said softly, “can I talk to him outside?”
Delphine looked between us, then nodded. “I’ll be right inside if you need me.”
She stepped back into the house, but I noticed she didn’t close the door all the way. It stayed cracked—just enough for her to hear if things went wrong.
Truth stepped out onto the porch, and I saw the small smirk tug at her lips as she glanced at the door.
“She’s listening,” Truth said quietly.
“I know.” I kept my voice low. “Your whole family probably is.”
“Probably.”
We stood there for a moment, the space between us charged with everything unsaid. I wanted to reach for her, pull her into my arms, tell her I was sorry for every lie, every mistake, every moment I’d made her feel like she didn’t matter.
But I didn’t.
Not yet.
“Are you okay?” I asked instead.
Truth exhaled slowly. “As best as I can be. Considering everything.”
I nodded. “I know. And I know this—” I gestured vaguely between us. “It was never supposed to be like this. I fucked up. Bad. But I’m not here to get into all that right now.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I just needed to see your face.”
Her expression softened, just a little. “Amai—”
“Something’s wrong,” I said, cutting her off. “And I need you to know about it.”
Truth’s eyes searched mine. “What happened?”
I thought about lying. Thought about telling her everything was fine, that I had it under control, that she didn’t need to worry.
But that’s what had gotten us here in the first place.
The lies. The secrets. The walls I’d built to keep her safe—walls that had only pushed her further away.
If I wanted her to trust me, I had to trust her first.
I had to let her into my world. The real one. The dangerous one.
The one that could get her killed.
“Our family vault was robbed,” I said quietly. “All the money we had stored—gone. And we know who did it.”
Truth’s eyes widened slightly. “Who?”
“Victor Baptiste. Yahmaria’s father.”
She went still.
“We have a meeting with him tonight,” I continued. “Me, Winston, and Kaisen. We’re going to get our money back. Or we’re going to make him pay for taking it.”
“Amai.”
“I need you to understand something.” I stepped closer, my voice dropping even lower.
“Yahmaria and I—we were forced to stay married. Our fathers made that decision. Both of us wanted out, but in this life, in this world, forced marriages are normal. It’s how families combine power and resources. It was on paper only. Nothing more.”
Truth’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t look away.
“I’m not sure how this meeting is going to go,” I admitted. “Victor’s dangerous. He’s smart. And he’s got nothing to lose. If something happens to me—if I don’t make it back—you and the babies won’t want for anything. I’ve made sure of that.”
“Stop.” Truth’s voice was sharp, cutting through the night air. “I don’t care about the money, Amai.”
I blinked. “Truth.”
“I don’t care about the money,” she repeated, her eyes fierce. “You better come out of that meeting alive. You hear me?”
Something in my chest cracked open.
She wasn’t worried about the money. She wasn’t worried about the contract or the security or any of the things I’d built to protect her.
She was worried about me.
“Come to my house when it’s over,” Truth said, her voice softer now. “I don’t care what time it is. Just come.”
I smiled—really smiled—for the first time all day. “I’d like that.”
Truth’s lips parted, and I saw the same need in her eyes that I felt burning through my veins.
I stepped closer, closing the distance between us, and cupped her face in my hands.
“I’m coming back to you,” I murmured. “I promise.”
And then I kissed her.
Not soft. Not gentle.
I kissed her like it was the last time. Like the world was ending, and she was the only thing that mattered. Like I could pour every apology, every regret, every desperate, aching need into this one moment and make her understand.
Truth melted into me, her hands fisting my shirt, and when she moaned—soft and needy and mine—I knew.
When I got to her house later tonight, after the meeting, after the war, after everything—
We’d be picking up exactly where this kiss left off.
I pulled back slowly, my forehead resting against hers, both of us breathing hard.
“Go inside,” I whispered. “I’ll see you soon.”
Truth nodded, her eyes still closed, and then she stepped back.
I watched her disappear into the house, the door closing softly behind her.
And then I turned and walked back to my truck, my heart pounding, my mind already shifting to what came next.
Victor.
The meeting.
The war.
But no matter what happened tonight, I was coming back.
Because Truth was waiting.
I didn’t give a fuck if I had to lay down everything in sight not to disappoint her. If that’s what it took, that’s exactly what I’d do.
The walk back to my truck felt longer than it should have.
My legs moved on autopilot, carrying me down Delphine’s front steps and across the cracked sidewalk, but my mind—my mind was somewhere else entirely.
Somewhere I’d never been before.
I climbed into the driver’s seat and sat there for a moment, heart racing, staring at nothing.
I love her.
The thought hit me like a freight train.
Not the obsession I’d felt before. Not the possessive need to own her, control her, keep her locked away where no one else could touch her.
This was different.
This was real.
I loved Truth Renois.
I loved the way she fought back when the world tried to break her. I loved the fire in her eyes when she told me to fuck off. I loved the softness she tried to hide, the vulnerability she only showed when she thought no one was watching.
I loved her strength. Her stubbornness. Her refusal to be anything other than exactly who she was.
And I was going to be a father.
Not just a sperm donor. Not just a name on a contract.
A father.
The weight of it settled over me like a second skin—heavy, terrifying, and somehow right.
I’d spent my entire life building walls. Keeping people at a distance. Trusting no one. Loving nothing.
And now, in the span of a few months, this woman had torn through every defense I had and made me feel things I didn’t even know I was capable of.
I exhaled slowly and started the engine.
The drive to Winston’s estate was a blur. My mind kept circling back to Truth—her face when I’d told her about the meeting, the way she’d looked at me when she said she didn’t care about the money, only that I came back alive.
She cared.
She actually cared.
And that meant everything.
By the time I pulled into Winston’s circular driveway, I’d locked the emotions away. Compartmentalized them. Buried them deep where they couldn’t distract me from what came next.
Because tonight wasn’t about love.
Tonight was about war.
Winston was waiting on the front steps, dressed in all black, his expression unreadable.
He climbed into the passenger seat without a word, and I pulled back onto the road.
“You ready for this?” I asked.
“I’ve been ready.” His voice was cold, clipped. “The question is whether you’re ready. You’ve been distracted lately.”
“I’m focused.”