Page 9 of Alien War Daddy's Got Rizz
“I don’t know…”
“One night,” he says, gentler now. “A nice restaurant. A little wine. Someone new to talk to who isn’t trying to get a piece of your company or sell you a new R&D platform. No expectations.”
I breathe through my nose.
The screen behind him dims automatically, casting soft shadows across his face. I think about how I’ve spent every waking hour this week triple-checking code permissions and arguing with finance leads over decimal points. I think about the way I’ve stopped listening to music. The way I’ve stopped dreaming.
“One night,” he repeats.
It’s not a command. It’s not even a plea.
It’s a kindness—strategic, perhaps, but still sincere in its shape.
And I am tired.
God, I’m so tired.
“…Fine.”
Jonathan’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “I’ll notify Jaiden.”
“Wait—what?Youalready responded to her?”
He stands, straightens his suit coat. “Only to let her know I’d nudge you.”
I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again.
“Tell me you didn’t already pick the guy.”
“Of course not.” He pauses. “Molly did.”
He’s gone before I can throw something.
Two hours later,I’m standing in front of my closet, half-dressed, completely panicking.
I don’t even remember what I used to wear on dates.
Do people still wear silk? Is that desperate? Is it trying too hard?
I run my hands down a sleek charcoal-gray dress that hugs more than it hides and try to remind myself that I’m not applying for a merger. It’s just dinner. With a stranger. Who may or may not have access to a security-clearance vetting agency.
I tug the zipper up, smooth the fabric.
The dress fits too well.
I sit on the edge of the bed, heels forgotten on the floor, pulse thrumming in my wrists. I’m nervous. Not because I expect anything magical. I’m not that naïve.
But because part of me—some stupid soft spark I thought I’d outgrown—hopes for something.
Not forever.
Just a moment.
Just one evening where I’m not a CEO or a grieving daughter or a brand name stitched into someone else’s empire. Just Yara. Just a woman in a dress, on a date, trying to feel… anything.
CHAPTER 3
GRAU
