Page 214 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

It was palpable. Tangible. A living thing that filled the space between us.

I didn’t blame her.

“Talk,” she said, her voice clipped. “And don’t you dare lie to me again.”

I nodded and took a breath, trying to organize the chaos in my head into something coherent. Something that would make sense.

But how do you explain a family like mine? How do you make someone understand the dysfunction, the manipulation, the way power and control were woven into every interaction?

You can’t.

You just tell the truth and hope they see you’re trying.

“My father,” I started, my voice low, “Winston Landry—he owns the fertility clinic. New Beginnings.”

Truth’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t interrupt.

“Every Landry man in our family has samples stored there,” I continued. “It’s part of the legacy. Part of the control. Winston’s way of ensuring the bloodline continues no matter what.”

The words tasted bitter on my tongue. Like admitting them out loud made them more real. More damning.

“Amai…” I paused, trying to find the right words. “Amai needs a surrogate to carry his child. I’m the reason for that.”

Truth’s expression shifted slightly. Not surprise. Recognition.

“I know about his condition,” she said quietly.

Of course she did. Amai would’ve told her. He’d have used it as part of his narrative—the tragic, damaged man who just wanted a family.

I nodded. “Winston didn’t believe Amai’s sperm would work. But Amai wanted an heir so badly he could taste it. So, Winston—” I stopped, the rage building in my chest, threatening to choke me. “Winston had the doctor use my sperm too. Without my consent. Without telling me.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Truth stared at me, her face unreadable, and I felt the weight of what I’d just said settle between us like a physical thing.

“I didn’t know,” I said, my voice breaking slightly. “I swear to God, Truth, I didn’t know initially. I found out after. And it was shitty—it was fucked up—not to be honest with you about it from the start.”

“The park,” Truth said, her voice sharp. “Was that planned?”

I wanted to lie. Wanted to tell her it was fate or coincidence or some bullshit romantic notion.

But I’d already lied enough.

“Yes.”

The word hung in the air between us, damning and final.

“Once I found out what my father did,” I continued, forcing myself to hold her gaze, “I had to know you. I read your file at Amai’s house—your background, your history, your divorce. But that wasn’t enough. I needed to be in your presence. I needed to see if?—”

“If what?” Her voice was cold. “If I was worth the trouble?”

“No.” The word came out sharper than I intended. “If what I was feeling was real. If the connection I felt reading about you translated to something real when I met you.”

Truth laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You’re telling me you stalked me, manipulated me into a situationship, and now you want me to believe your feelings are genuine?”

“Yes.” I leaned forward, my hands clenched into fists on my knees. “Because they are. Everything I feel for you is real, Truth. You know it. I know you know it.”

She looked away, her jaw tight.