Page 7 of My Big Fat Fake Alien

Madison whistles low. “Damn. Sounds like he’s into you. Like,reallyinto you. What did he say? Did he ask for your number? Please tell me he asked for your number.”

“He gave me his card,” I admit, pulling it out of my pocket. The glossy black rectangle feels heavier than it should, like it’s carrying the weight of everything that’s happened tonight.

Madison snatches it out of my hand, inspecting it like it’s a rare artifact. “Raven, this guy’s a billionaire. He’s hot, he’s powerful, he’s apparently a martial arts god,andhe’s into you. What the hell are you waiting for? You should be calling him right now.”

“It’s not that simple,” I say, my voice sharp. “I don’t even know him. He’s… he’s intense. Like,toointense. And he kissed me, Maddy. And I… I ran.”

Madison stares at me like I’ve just announced I’m giving up breathing. “Let me get this straight. A handsome, sexy billionaire who wants you,bad, kisses you… and your move is to run away from this person?”

“I panicked, okay?” I snap, pulling the card back from her. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Madison throws up her hands. “Well, I do. I’m calling the psych ward because you’ve lost your goddamn mind, Raven.”

“I told you I don’t want to call the police,” I say, rubbing my temples.

“Who said anything about the police?” she retorts, grabbing her phone off the counter. “I’m calling someone to come and check your head for loose screws. This is insane.”

“Okay, hold up,” Madison says, snatching her laptop off the coffee table and plopping herself back onto the couch. Her fingers fly across the keyboard, and within seconds, she’s typingKirk Stevensinto the search bar. “Let’s see what Mr. Billionaire Savior is all about.”

I sink down next to her, my nerves still frayed. My hands twist the hem of my shirt as I watch the screen fill with results. The usual stuff pops up first—business deals, buyouts, paparazzi shots of him at fancy events with supermodels on his arm. Madison clicks through them with the intensity of a detective on a deadline.

“Big surprise,” she mutters, scrolling past a photo of him stepping out of a Maserati. “Rich guy does rich guy things. Let’s dig deeper.”

She typesKirk Stevens controversyinto the search bar, and that’s when things get weird. The first link takes us to a forum thread titledKirk Stevens: A Modern-Day Villain?My stomach tightens as I read the first post.

“What the hell is this?” Madison squints at the screen. “No childhood photos? Zero? That’s… sketchy.”

“Maybe he’s private,” I say, my voice sounding unconvincing even to me.

Madison gives me a sideways glance. “Private, or nonexistent? Because according to this, the guy just popped into existence in his mid-twenties with a billion dollars and no backstory.”

I bite my lip, my mind racing. Kirk’s face flashes in my head—those sharp, almost too-perfect features, the way he moved with inhuman speed and strength.

The way he kissed me like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it.

My pulse quickens, and I force myself to look back at the screen.

Madison clicks another link, and this one’s worse. “Okay, listen to this,” she says, reading aloud. “Wherever Kirk Stevens goes, chaos follows. Industrial plants explode. Oil platforms sink. Entire companies go bankrupt. Coincidence?”

“Stop,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended. “You’re making it sound like he’s some kind of supervillain.”

“I’m not saying he’s a supervillain,” Madison says, closing the laptop and turning to face me. “But he’s definitely not just a hot billionaire with a white knight complex. There’s something off about him, Raven.”

I don’t answer. I know she’s right—Kirk is too intense, too mysterious, tooeverything. But I can’t shake the memory of the way he looked at me, like I was the only person in the world who mattered. Or the way he’d whispered,“I’d rip them in half if I could.”I believed him. I still do.

“Look, I’m not telling you what to do,” Madison says, softer now. “But maybe… maybe you should be careful with this guy. You’ve been burned before. I don’t want to see that happen again.”

I nod, but I don’t say anything. My thoughts are a tangled mess, and I can’t untangle them, no matter how hard I try. Madison’s words echo in my head as I stare at the black business card still clutched in my hand.Careful.But careful feels like the last thing I want to be.

I stare at the blank wall of our apartment, my mind racing. The more I think about it, the more it fits. Kirk justhappenstobe there when those guys come at me? He swoops in, saves the day, and now he’s the hero? No. That’s too convenient.

“What if…” I start, my voice low, almost hesitant. “What if he paid them? What if he set it up just to look like the hero?”

Madison pauses mid-chip crunch, her brow furrowing. “You think he’s that much of a bastard?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, pacing the room. My fingers tug at the hem of my shirt, twisting the fabric. “But it’s not impossible, right? Rich guys like him… they think they can buy anything. Even people.”

She tilts her head, considering. “Okay, yeah. That’s messed up. But it’s not out of the realm of possibility. Dude’s shady. You saw the forums.”

---