Page 205 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

“You’re limping,” she repeated, her eyes narrowing. “What happened?”

“Nothing that concerns you.”

“Amai—”

“I said I’m fine.” My voice came out sharper than I intended, and I saw her flinch slightly. I forced myself to soften. “It’s nothing. Just a long day.”

She didn’t believe me. I could see it in the way her gaze lingered on my leg, the way her jaw tightened. But she didn’t push.

Instead, she turned and walked toward the stairs. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

I followed her up the narrow staircase, each step sending a fresh jolt of pain through my leg. I kept my face blank, my breathing steady, but by the time we reached the second floor, I was gritting my teeth so hard my jaw ached.

Truth led me down a short hallway and stopped in front of a closed door. She placed her hand on the knob, then looked back at me.

“I’ve been working on this,” she said quietly. “I wanted it to be ready.”

She opened the door.

The nursery.

I stepped inside, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak.

The walls were painted a soft sage green. A white crib sat against the far wall, already assembled, with a mobile hanging above it—little wooden animals that turned slowly in the air. A rocking chair sat in the corner by the window, a folded blanket draped over the armrest. A small dresser stood beside the crib, its top already stocked with diapers, wipes, baby lotion.

Everything was ready.

Everything washers.

“I know it’s not much,” Truth said, her voice uncertain. “But it’s a start. I wanted the baby to have a space. A real space.”

I walked further into the room, my eyes taking in every detail. The care she’d put into this. The thought. The planning.

She’d done this without me.

She’d built this life—this future—without asking for my help. Without needing me.

And that realization hit me harder than Winston’s bullet.

“It’s perfect,” I said finally, my voice rough.

She smiled—small, tentative. “You think so?”

“Yeah.” I turned to face her. “But you know the contract still stands.”

Her smile faded. “What?”

“The contract we signed,” I said, keeping my voice even. “The surrogacy agreement.”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “Are you serious right now?”

“I’m reminding you of the terms.”

“You’re threatening me.”

“I’m stating facts.”

“No.” She stepped closer, her voice rising. “You’re trying to control me. Again. You pursued me, Amai. You showed up at my mama’s house. You followed me to the clinic. You kissed me. You made love to me. This is allyourfault.”