Page 160 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2

Kaisen took a shuddering breath and began to speak.

He told me about the clinic—how Amai had appeared like he’d been summoned, how he’d stabbed Kaisen in front of Truth and the medical staff without hesitation or remorse. How Truth had screamed. How Amai had looked at him with eyes that held nothing but murder.

He told me about the hospital—how Amai had walked into his room in the middle of the night, taken the nurse call button, reminded him of childhood trauma. The toy. The pool. The drowning attempt.

“He said I never learned,” Kaisen whispered. “He said I kept taking things that belonged to him, and now I was going to pay for it.”

“What else?”

Kaisen’s jaw tightened. “He injected me with something. Knocked me out. When I woke up, I was in that hole.” He gestured weakly toward the concrete tomb behind us. “He told me I was going to die down there. That no one would find me. That Truth would forget I ever existed.”

I stood slowly, my mind working through the timeline. Amai had extracted Kaisen from the hospital, transported him here, sealed him in that tomb—all while Truth slept peacefully in the cabin nearby.

The level of compartmentalization required for that was extraordinary. Sociopathic, even.

I’d taught Amai to separate emotion from action. To do what needed to be done without hesitation or guilt.

But I’d never taught him to bury his own brother alive.

That was something else. Something darker.

“He came back,” Kaisen continued, his voice gaining strength. “This morning. But he came back and opened the lid just enough to talk to me.”

“What did he say?”

Kaisen’s expression twisted with rage and humiliation. “He told me he fucked her. That he made love to Truth last night while I was down there in the dark. He said she was his now. That she’d never think about me again.”

I felt something cold settle deeper in my chest. Amai had claimed Truth. Not just physically, but emotionally. He’d crossed the line from obsession into possession.

“I told him she’d leave him once she found out about Yahmaria,” Kaisen said. “Once she learned he was still married, still tied to Victor’s daughter. I told him Truth would fall apart, and I’d be there to pick up the pieces.”

“And what did he say?”

“He tried to seal the lid. He was going to leave me down there to die.” Kaisen’s hands clenched into fists. “But I got the text out to you first. He didn’t know I still had my watch.”

I looked at the Apple Watch on Kaisen’s wrist—scratched, dirty, but still functional. That small piece of technology had saved his life.

“He’s going to destroy her,” Kaisen said quietly. “Truth. He’s going to love her so hard it breaks her. And when she tries to leave, when she realizes what he really is—he won’t let her go. He’ll destroy it all before he lets her walk away.”

I stared at my son—broken, traumatized, but still defiant—and realized he was right.

Amai had always been ruthless. I’d cultivated that ruthlessness, shaped it, weaponized it. But ruthlessness without control was just chaos.

And Amai was chaos now.

He’d stabbed his brother in public. He’d built a concrete tomb and buried Kaisen alive. He’d claimed Truth with a possessiveness that bordered on madness.

All because he loved her.

Love.

That was the variable I hadn’t accounted for. I’d assumed Amai’s interest in Truth was transactional—a means to an end, a way to secure his legacy through the child she carried. I’d thought his obsession was rooted in control, in the need to possess something that had been taken from him.

But it wasn’t control.

It was love.

Real, consuming, destructive love.