Page 72 of Alien War Daddy's Got Rizz
That word tastes like ash.
I lift my eyes — slowly — and meet every gaze in the room.
Not with defensiveness.
Not with fear.
With clarity.
“Are you suggesting,” I ask, voice steady even though my gut feels like it’s been scraped raw, “that I knowingly brought a saboteur into CY8?”
The room flinches — not from the question, but from thetruthof it.
Tidball doesn’t flinch.
His smile is soft — like a blanket draped over a blade — and it makes something in me grind to a halt.
“No,” he says, earnest in that cultivated way he has. “I’m suggesting we evaluate all possibilities. This company’s stability is at stake.”
“So we throw allegations around like confetti?” I snap, the words sharper than I intended.
A board member clears his throat.
“CEO Greenfield, this is serious.”
As ifIdon’t know that.
Dr. Foster stands.
His jacket rustles, a sound like wind over dry grass.
“I’m willing to continue negotiations,” he says, “but only if we can assure all parties that CY8 is mitigating risk responsibly.”
Mitigating.
A word that meanssubmit or lose allies.
I feel like someone just shoved my chest with a cosmic battering ram.
“My loyalty is not to rumors,” I say. “It’s to the truth.”
Foster looks at me — polite, rigid, calculating.
“The truth in this case includes due consideration that someone associated with your firm may have compromised data integrity.”
His voice is clinical, but the implication is like a blade drawn across my knees.
I want to stomp, to shout, to tear the world apart and rebuild it brick by brick with the truth screaming in every corner.
But Ican’t.
Because this isn’t just about emotion.
It’s about the company.
The debt.
The veterans who need this tech.
