Page 150 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

My phone buzzed again.

I picked it up, expecting another message from Kaisen.

It was from one of my men stationed near Amai’s primary residence.

No movement.

I texted back:Leave and head to his lakehouse.

So Amai was playing house at the lakehouse. Pretending to be something other than the monster I’d raised him to be.

And Kaisen was buried somewhere in the woods, suffocating in darkness, paying the price for violating who Amai had fallen in love with.

I should have seen this coming.

The thought was bitter. I prided myself on anticipation, on reading three moves ahead of everyone else. But I’d been so focused on the external threats—Rahsaan making moves on our territory, Victor’s unpredictable volatility, the various law enforcement agencies that circled like sharks—that I’d missed the threat growing inside my own house.

Amai had always been the perfect son. Controlled. Obedient. Ruthless when necessary but never reckless.

I’d mistaken control for loyalty.

They weren’t the same thing.

Control was a mask. Loyalty was a choice.

And Amai had stopped choosing me.

I pulled up my contacts again and scrolled to a name I hadn’t called in months: Terrell Thibodeaux. Parish sheriff, on my payroll for the past fifteen years, ran a jail facility that operated with the kind of discretion that made problems disappear.

He answered on the second ring.

“Winston. It’s been a while.”

“I need a favor,” I said, my voice flat. “Off the books. Solitary confinement. No record. No questions.”

There was a pause. Terrell knew better than to ask for details, but even he had limits to what he’d do without context.

“How long?” he asked.

“Indefinite. Until I say otherwise.”

Another pause. “This is a big ask.”

“I’m aware. Your usual rate, doubled. Cash.”

“Who’s the guest?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does if it’s going to come back on me.”

I considered how much to tell him. Terrell was loyal, but loyalty had limits when self-preservation was on the line.

“It’s leverage,” I said finally. “Someone close to a situation I need to control. He won’t be reported missing. No one will come looking.”

“He?”

“Yes.”