“I am, and I will,” she insisted quickly. “But she’s really our only option right now.”
“Our? Don’t you meanmine?” I corrected. “Watch your wording. This is my bloodline, my last name, and my sperm that supposedly made the child she’s carrying. You’re just the person who decided to play God with all three.”
I exhaled once through my nose, hard and controlled.
“Ifit turns out she’s really pregnant with my child, I’ll compensate you in cash… not love, dick, or my time.” My eyes narrowed. “But until I can prove that baby belongs to me, you ain’t getting a damn dime.”
“Merge, itisyour baby,” Zonnique assured quickly. “That clinic would never—”
“I said what I said.”
Silence.
Then Zonnique hesitated before quietly asking, “So… what are you gonna do about the marriage part? You know how your mother is. I seriously doubt she’d want to see you with another woman besides—”
“Besides who?” I cut in immediately. “You?”
A laugh ripped out of me so suddenly and harshly it made her visibly shrink where she stood.
It wasn’t amused laughter either; it was the kind that embarrassed people and made them instantly regret speaking.
Zonnique looked away quickly, mortified.
I took a second to compose myself.
“Zonnique,” I said finally, still sounding amused, “My mama can barely tolerate yo’ ass now. You think she’s secretly sitting aroundprayingI marryyou?” I shook my head. “That woman speaks to you out of politeness and blood pressure management. Trust me, if she had it her way, you would’ve been nonexistent after day one of meeting you.”
Her face fell instantly.
“Glad to finally know that,” she muttered bitterly.
I scoffed loudly. “Gon’ with that shit, Zonnique. You knew; you just kept mistaking access for affection.”
Zonnique visibly swallowed down her embarrassment. Then suddenly her expression shifted with another desperate thought.
“If it comes down to it, I’ll just say I’m pregnant, and you can still keep the surrogate to carry the baby.”
I stared at Zonnique like she’d lost the last functioning piece of common sense she had left.
“And exactly how thefuckdo you expect that to work, huh?”
“I can help work around suspicion,” she rushed on nervously. “Nobody has to know the truth except us. We could stage things carefully. Build a believable timeline. Keep everything private. We could simulate the pregnancy publicly. I can get prosthetics… fake bellies. There are women who—”
“Zonnique, this ain’t one of them messy reality shows where everybody can lie for a whole season and magically get away with it. This is real fuckin’ life. And my mama doesn’t just want a grandchild because of tradition; she wants the experienceattached to it. She already talks about baby showers, football games, and dance recitals. That means she’s gonna wanna touch the stomach, go to doctor appointments, and sit in ultrasound rooms. And ultrasounds don’t lie, Zonnique. That’sreal.”
Zonnique’s bravado wavered. “Right. Well… maybe you can just tell them the truth and they’ll understand,” she suggested weakly.
I scoffed, dark amusement in it. “Maybe.”
Downstairs was a woman carrying possibilities I never asked for because another woman had decided she knew what was best for my future. And somehow, against all logic, all instinct, and every rule I normally lived by… I hadn’t shut the situation down completely.
“Look… I don’t know how this shit is going to play it or when I’ll explain this to my folks, but I’ll entertain this scheme you put together… for now. But hear me carefully… and I do mean carefully. If this shit blows up in my face… if this desperate project of yours costs me my position or my name, because you got impatient and wanted a short-cut so bad that you started making executive decisions with my life behind my back… I’ll make sure you regret the day you thought you could fix a Belvior problem with favors, lipstick, or pussy,” I warned, every word calm enough to sound deadly. “And yes, I saidpussysince I’m sure that played a part in it somewhere.”
I held her stare coldly as I continued.
“It’s one thing if I fail because of my own mistakes. I can live with consequences I created myself. But if my empire crumbles because somebody else got emotional, overstepped boundaries, and tried to play savior without permission… that’s a different kind of rage. So you better pray this little miracle plan of yours works perfectly… or I’ma kill you.”
Zonnique’s face drained instantly.
