Page 100 of Alien War Daddy's Got Rizz
Her laugh is a raw sound, more breath than humor.
“You think I don’t recognize you?” she whispers. “You’re the only thing Idorecognize anymore.”
Silence.
Charged.
Intimate.
Dangerous.
I don’t say what I’m thinking.
That I missed her voice like oxygen. That every breath outside this building felt incomplete. That I remembered the shape of her silence better than most men remember names.
She breaks the moment with a question.
“What happens to me if I say yes?”
I answer without hesitation.
“You get your company back. Your name. Your legacy. And blood on your hands.”
Her lips twitch. “And if I say no?”
“I keep going.”
“Without me?”
I nod once. “Without you.”
The seconds stretch.
She walks back to the desk.
Doesn’t sit.
Just looks at the drive.
Her hand hovers.
Then she snatches it.
And that is the answer.
She doesn’t say yes.
She doesn’t say no.
She just takes the proof.
And that’s enough for now.
CHAPTER 16
GRAU
Her breath is still tangled with mine. Her skin, warm and flushed, glows in the dim light that slants across her office from the half-closed blinds. Papers are crumpled beneath her thighs, her blouse askew, her hair a glorious, wild mess I never want to tame. I’m still inside her—rooted, unmoving, as if letting go now might undo what we just rebuilt.
