Page 73 of Alien War Daddy's Got Rizz
And my name is on a glowing plaque in a glass tower everyone’s already whispering about.
I steel myself.
Breathe.
Taste the bitter tang of confrontation against my palate.
“And if I were to produce evidence that exonerates the accused?” I say, eyes locked on Tidball’s gentle face.
He doesn’t flinch.
He smiles.
That damned smile.
“A thorough investigation takes time,” he says. “But in the meantime, we must act in the best interests of all stakeholders.”
Stakeholders.
The corporate euphemism that means “I want you to fold.”
“I will not sacrifice truth for optics,” I say, feeling as if I’m clinging to the edge of a cliff with nothing but raw nerve and stubborn hope.
The murmurs grow louder.
Someone whispers behind me — a phrase I don’t catch, but the tone is enough to make my skin prickle.
I taste anxiety — copper and sharp — but I swallow it down.
Because I have to think.
Strategically. Rationally. Without the searing pain of instinct.
“Then let the investigation proceed,” I say firmly. “And let it be thorough.”
Tidball inclines his head — slow, deliberate — like he’s offering condolence rather than cooperation.
“I’m just trying to protect this company,” he says.
Almost believable.
Almost comforting.
If not for the fact thathe’s orchestrated the crisis.
My gut twists.
And I realize the board isn’t whispering about the breach anymore.
They’re whispering aboutme.
The CEO.
The woman with the torch everyone thought was steady.
And suddenly that torch feels like a candle in a hurricane.
We end the meeting.
