Page 177 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

“Truth—”

“I’m not done talking,” I said, my voice rising slightly. “You want me to trust you? You want me to believe you’re not like Kaisen? Then you need to respect that I’m not yours to control. I’m not a possession. I’m not a pawn in your family’s game. I’m a person. And I get to make my own choices.”

Amai stared at me, his expression unreadable.

Then, slowly, he nodded.

“You’re right,” he said quietly.

I blinked, surprised. “What?”

“You’re right,” he repeated. “I’ve been trying to control you. I’ve been trying to keep you safe by making decisions for you. And that’s not fair.”

I crossed my arms, my heart pounding. “So, what now?”

“Now,” Amai said, stepping fully into the house and closing the door behind him, “you tell me what you need. And I listen.”

I stared at him, searching his face for any sign of manipulation or calculation.

But all I saw was sincerity.

“I need space,” I said finally. “I need to be able to think without you hovering over me. I need to be able to make decisions about my life and my baby without feeling like I’m being watched or controlled.”

“Okay.”

“I need answers,” I continued. “Real answers. About Kaisen. About your family. About what’s really going on. No more half-truths. No more secrets.”

Amai’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Okay.”

“And I need you to understand that I’m not running from you,” I said, my voice softer now. “I’m not leaving. I’m just… establishing boundaries. I’m taking control of my own life. And if you can’t respect that, then we don’t have anything to talk about.”

Amai was quiet for a long moment, his eyes locked on mine.

Then he stepped closer, his hand reaching up to cup my face. His touch was gentle, reverent.

“I respect it,” he said quietly. “I respect you. And I’ll give you the space you need. But I’m not going anywhere either, Truth. You understand that?”

I nodded, my throat tight.

“Good,” he said. Then he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “This house is yours. Your space. Your rules. But if you need me—if you need anything—you call me. You hear me?”

“I hear you.”

He pulled back, his hand lingering on my face for a moment longer before he dropped it.

Then he turned and walked toward the door.

“Amai,” I called after him.

He stopped, his hand on the doorknob, and looked back at me.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “For listening.”

He nodded once, his expression softening. “Always.”

Then he left.

I stood in the empty living room of my new house, the sound of his car pulling away echoing in the quiet.