Page 33 of Alien War Daddy's Got Rizz
“Then watch her,” he says, surprising me.
“What?”
He crosses his arms — one set of arms, then another. “You found someone meaningful. Someone you actually give a damn about. That’s rarer than a dead star burning bright. You don’t let that go easy.”
I raise an eyebrow, suspicious.
He smirks. “You don’t have to be in her office every hour. But keep an eye on the shadows. Corporate edges aren’t always bullet-shaped. Sometimes they’re ink and contracts.”
I let that settle. Then take a sip of the bitter brew — dark as midnight, with a smoky aftertaste that curls around my senses.
“Grau,” he says again, in a tone that’s halfway between warning and admiration, “you’re the happiest I’ve ever seen younot angry.That’s terrifying.”
I laugh.
“No apocalypse today,” I say.
The bartender chuckles.
“Just don’t let the assassins have all the fun,” he says.
I smirk back. “No promises.”
But beneath the grin — beneath the banter and the rye-hot liquor — I feel a twist of resolve.
Protecting Yara is going to require more than charm and passion.
More than presence and patience.
It means watching her world — the clean suits, the polished floors, the smiles that hide teeth — the way I watch a battlefield before the first shot is fired.
And if that means loitering in seedy taverns, taking unsolicited advice, and building a network of shadows so wide even corporate predators think twice?
So be it.
I drain the last of my drink.
The smoky sweetness burns down my throat and settles in my gut.
I set the mug down with finality.
“My mate,” I murmur. “Is worth watching.”
The bartender nods — serious now, not joking.
“Just don’t forget,” he says. “Sometimes the sharpest knives wear silk collars.”
I nod back — the kind of nod that meansI understand, and I’m already thinking ten steps ahead.
I step out of the tavern into the night.
The air is cold against my skin — but I’m warmer than ever.
I found her.
And I willwatch over her.
Even if it kills me.
