Page 94 of Alien War Daddy's Got Rizz
The lobby falls silent.
Someone drops a tablet.
No one picks it up.
I meet no eyes, but I feel them all—tight with fear, wide with disbelief. I don’t walk fast. I don’t run. I move like a fucking inevitability, and the air bends around me like it remembers how to flinch.
Security sees me by the elevators. One reaches for his comms. I tilt my head once, just enough, and he hesitates.
Smart boy.
He lets the call drop.
I press the button.
No alarms.
Not yet.
But the Combine’s breathing faster. I feel it.
The elevator dings.
Chrome doors glide open. I step in alone.
And the ride is long enough to think about what I’m about to do.
To her.
Tome.
To both of us.
The doorsopen onto the executive floor like I summoned them.
Everything smells too clean—like filtered air and expensive leather, the kind that pretends not to suffocate. The walls gleam. Even the silence feels polished.
I walk through it like a blade through silk.
An assistant with a headset and perfect posture starts to speak, sees my face, and sits right back down. She types something, maybe a warning. Too late.
My boots hit the floor soft and slow.
Yara’s office is at the end of the hall, two double doors with gold-veined trim, like they’re supposed to intimidate. They don’t.
I push them open.
She’s standing behind the desk.
Frozen.
Like sheknew—not consciously, but in her bones—that I’d come back. And now that I’m here, the reality of me collides with whatever ghost she’d been arguing with in her head.
Yara doesn’t speak right away.
Neither do I.
I give her the moment.
