Page 52 of Scaled Daddy's Secret Heir

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Small. Fast. Low center of mass.

Could be a decoy.

Could be a drone.

Could be something worse.

My hands move on instinct. I isolate the quadrant, run the thermal against known profiles, activate the IR pulse.

“Leah, status update,” Command pings through.

“Possible intrusion, quadrant 4D. Investigating.”

I toggle audio.

No footsteps. No hum. No mech noise.

Still—can’t risk it.

I shut down the power choke to that corridor. Black it out completely.

I wait.

Silence.

Then the feed resolves—a glitch.

No lifeform. Just a cam echo. Sensor lag from the atmosphere vent cycle.

I key into Command.

“False alarm. Thermal misfire during vent oscillation. No breach.”

A pause.

“Copy that. Efficient resolution. Logs reviewed. Authority retained.”

I exhale.

Hard.

I realize my hands are shaking.

But I handled it.

Alone.

The rest of the shift passes in a blur of routine—rechecking sensors, updating logs, resetting passwords.

But the silence feels different now.

Not empty.

Justmissingsomething.

Someone.

I sit at the edge of the cot he left, staring at the dent where his weight used to be. My fingers ghost over the place he kissed last.

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