Page 181 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

“If you hear from him,” I said, my voice steady, “tell him I’m not going anywhere. He can run off and play house with his little surrogate all he wants, but this marriage doesn’t end until I say it does.”

Syx’s mouth curved into a faint smirk. “You want me to tell him that?”

“Word for word.”

“Aight.” He turned and disappeared down the hallway, his footsteps fading as he descended the stairs.

I stood there for a moment longer, staring at the empty doorway.

Then I picked up my phone and opened the spoofing app again.

This time, I made the call look like it was coming from his mama.

The line rang once. Twice.

Then it went to voicemail.

I smiled, cold and sharp.

“You can block me all you want, Amai,” I said into the phone, my voice low and venomous. “But you can’t block this marriage. You can’t block your father. And you sure as hell can’t block the consequences of whatever the fuck you think you’re doing.

Night had fallen by the time I settled into the armchair in the sitting room off the master bedroom. The house was quiet—the kind of silence that made you hyper-aware of every creak and shift in the walls.

I’d changed into silk pajama shorts and a matching camisole, my hair wrapped in a satin scarf. The book in my lap was dog-eared and highlighted to hell.When You’re Ready, This Is How You Healby Brianna Wiest.

I’d bought it six months ago during one of my late-night Amazon spirals when sleep wouldn’t come and the weight of this sham marriage felt like it was crushing my chest. The book promised clarity, emotional freedom, a roadmap out of the wreckage.

I wasn’t sure I believed in any of that.

But I kept reading anyway.

My eyes scanned the page, absorbing words about letting go, about releasing what no longer served you, about choosing yourself even when it felt impossible.

“Healing is not about going back to who you were before. It’s about becoming who you’re meant to be now.”

I snorted softly and turned the page.

Easy to say. Harder to do when you were legally bound to a man who hated you, and trapped in a marriage that existed only to serve two powerful men’s egos.

I was about to highlight another passage when I heard it.

A scream.

Raw. Guttural. Violent.

My head snapped up, the book sliding off my lap and hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Another scream—louder this time, more desperate.

Syx.

I was on my feet before I could think, my bare feet slapping against the hardwood as I sprinted out of the sitting room and down the hallway. My heart hammered in my chest, adrenaline flooding my system.

I knew that sound.

I’d heard it before—too many times to count.

Syx’s night terrors.