Page 59 of Alien War Daddy's Got Rizz
The accusation echoes off these sterile white walls like a slap.
I’d seen betrayal from a hundred angles — ambush after ambush in systems far uglier than this — butthishits different.
This smells like sabotage.
Not just normal sabotage. Sloppy sabotage.
But effective.
Because it hits deeper than spreadsheets.
It hitstrust.
I stand off to one side, arms crossed, observing the room — the tension, the quiet shifting of feet on tile, the way executives avert their eyes when it gets too hot.
The board members sit at the elongated glass table. Too polished. Too reflective. Too clean to be honest.
One of them taps a credplate against the tabletop — a rhythmic tick that makes the hair on my arms stand on end.
“We have evidence that Division 7 was transmitting proprietary research outside CY8 firewalls,” he says, voice calm as if he’s announcing a lunch menu. “Data packets traced back through international channels, unverified endpoints, and third-party forwards.”
The accusation — the wordespionage— holds more weight than any blade.
A collective intake of breath ripples through the room.
I smell fear.
And it isn’t Yara’s.
Not yet.
I don’t move.
I watch their postures crumble like weak foundations under pressure.
And then I see her — across the glass wall, pacing in slow, controlled steps, eyes narrowed like she’s grappling with something that should not be happening.
I already know — before anyone even speaks it — that this accusation is bullshit.
Because corporate espionage doesn’t look like this.
Not when someonethoughtfully engineered it.
The room clears, bowing to protocol — a show of order — and I step forward.
“What’s the evidence?” I ask, my voice calm, a low rumble that seems too rich for this antiseptic space.
Heads turn.
Blink.
Uneasy.
One board member — a woman with too-tight clothing and eyes that dart like a creature cornered — speaks up.
“We have logs, Mr. Grau,” she says. “Timestamped transmissions, unregistered endpoints, and access signatures that match records from your known associations.”
The wordassociationsthuds against my ribs like a loaded pounder.
