Page 108 of Alien War Daddy's Got Rizz
Legal Custodian: Grau Kel Thalos.
**Recipient Beneficiary: Yara Greenfield.”
Everything’s in place.
The holdings are lined up like dominos—shell companies, proxies, boards with just enough plausible deniability to pass muster. The leverage is airtight. If this works—and it will—CY8 comes back to her in full. Not a board seat. Not a courtesy title.Everything.
All it takes is one final pressure point.
Tidball.
He doesn’t know it yet, but his last bit of leverage—his last breath of power—is about to be funneled into this transfer. Through panic. Through desperation. Through a chokehold tight enough to make even men like him reconsider the value of empire over survival.
It’s the cleanest way to finish a dirty war.
But it’s still a war.
And when Yara sees how Ihadto get this done—what I did, who I threatened, the strings I pulled that can never be un-pulled—she’ll look at me the way she used to look at fire. With awe, yes. But also fear.
And I can live with that.
I have to.
Because I’d rather have her afraid of the man who put her name back where it belongs than mourning the woman who never got it back at all.
Still, I stand there longer than I should, thumb hovering just above the authorization field.
And I hate that this is the first time in months I’ve hesitated.
I hear her voice in my head. The way she whispers when she thinks no one’s listening. The way she once said, “I just wanted to build something that couldn’t be taken from me.”
I remember the look in her eyes that night. Hollowed out. Like she’d been peeled open and didn’t know how to put herself back together.
That look’s been replaced now with something steel-spined and razor-edged. She doesn’t need rescuing. She never did.
But she needed someone who saw what was happening. Whobelievedher when no one else would. Who burned down the shadows she wasn’t allowed to name.
That was me.
That’s still me.
And if I cross this last line, it’s not for justice.
It’s not for revenge.
It’s because I want her name carved into the damn stars, and I’m tired of watching men like Tidball piss on legacy like it’s currency.
I activate the encryption key. It pings instantly, a secure lock engaging with a dull, final-sounding click. The transfer directive now lives in six off-world legal systems, monitored by AI firms that will execute automatically once the conditions are triggered.
There’s no undoing it now.
It’s done.
The endgame begins.
I give myself one last moment of quiet before I hit the street again. Before I go find Tidball and wrap my hand around the final string holding up his house of lies.
One last breath.
