Page 55 of Scaled Daddy's Secret Heir
One kid’s body hits the floor.
The other screams.
I don’t turn back.
I can’t.
The grim business continues until the job is done. At least, the extraction’s quiet.
Too quiet.
Even Kuron doesn’t brag.
He rides beside me on the evac cruiser, head tipped back, boots crossed, but his grin’s gone.
No debrief banter. No kill counts.
Only silence.
The air smells like ozone and cauterized guilt.
Alliance Command beams in live.
“Efficient work,” the operative says. A face like marble. No eyes—just synth implants that scan and blink in rhythm.
“Target neutralized. Upload confirms location triangulation accurate. Minimal resistance.”
“No mention of the civilian,” I say.
A pause.
Then: “Collateral incurred. Within parameters.”
Kuron says nothing. Just cracks his knuckles.
I close the feed.
Hard.
Later, in the locker, I sit alone on the bench, head bowed.
My hands still tremble.
Not from adrenaline.
FromknowingI let that happen.
Because I didn’t stop it.
Not fast enough.
Because somewhere out there, Leah’s alive, waiting, trusting me to come back?—
And I’m losing pieces of myself in rooms like this.
I tap out a message.
Encrypted triple-burst. Priority lock.
