Page 31 of Billionaire Alien Boss Daddy

She walks to the desk, picking up the phone to order. “My scales. When I’m not disguised as this.” She gestures at her human form.

I sink into a chair, my mind racing. “So, you’re… Vakutan too.”

“Guilty.” She winks. “But don’t worry, I’m not as grumpy as he is.”

I can’t help but laugh. “That’s a low bar.”

We order Vietnamese from a place down the street, and soon the office smells like lemongrass and cilantro. Mira grabs a pair of chopsticks and leans back in her chair, twirling them between her fingers like a pro.

“You’ve got to teach me how to do that,” I say, fumbling with my own chopsticks.

“Step one: don’t look like you’re trying to stab your food.”

I smirk. “Very helpful.”

We fall into easy conversation, and for a while, it’s almost normal. We talk about Shomun’s obsessive punctuality, his habit of correcting grammar mid-sentence, and his inexplicable love for 90s R&B.

“He once made me listen to Luther Vandross for three hours straight,” Mira says, rolling her eyes. “I thought I was going to lose my mind.”

“He sangDance with My Fatherto me once,” I admit, grinning. “It was… oddly sweet.”

“Sweet? He’s a walking grudge with scales.”

We’re both laughing when the alarm goes off. A sharp, piercing sound that makes my ears ring. Mira’s chopsticks clatter to the table, and she’s on her feet in an instant.

“Get under the desk. Now.”

“What’s happening?”

“That alarm means a Grolgath is near.” Her voice is calm, but her eyes are hard. “Move, Clarice.”

Something flickers in the corner of my eye—a slithering movement, brown and sinuous, sliding in through the ventilation duct. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. "Mira," I whisper, my voice trembling. "Uh... what’s that?"

She turns, her human disguise flickering for a moment to reveal the red scales beneath. Her eyes narrow as the snake coils and shifts, its form expanding, morphing into a hulking reptilian figure. Brick. His brown scales glint under the fluorescent lights, his massive frame dwarfing the room.

"I’m taking the human woman," Brick says, his voice a low rumble. He glances at Mira, his lips curling into what might pass for a smirk. "Don’t get in my way, beautiful."

Mira steps between us, her posture rigid, her hands curling into fists. "You’re not taking Claire. And flattery’s not going to work on me, scales or no scales."

He shrugs, like he’s bored already. "Your funeral."

Mira moves first—a blur of red and fury. She’s fast, her strikes precise, landing blows to his ribs, his jaw, his throat. Brick stumbles back, but he’s grinning now, like she’s just buzzing around him. He swings a fist, and even though she ducks, the sheer force of it sends her reeling. She recovers fast, but I can see the toll it’s taking. Her breaths are coming harder now, her movements slower.

Brick lands a punch, and it’s like a wrecking ball hitting a brick wall. Mira crashes into the desk, the wood splintering under her weight. She doesn’t get up.

"Stop!" I scream, my voice echoing in the suddenly silent room. My hands scramble across the desk until they close around the obsidian letter opener Simon keeps there. I press the tip to my throat, the metal cold against my skin. "Let her go, or I’ll do it. I swear I will."

Brick pauses, tilting his head like he’s trying to figure me out. "You’d really off yourself for her?"

"Yes," I snap, my voice steady even as my hand shakes. "Now back off."

He laughs—a low, rumbling sound that sends a chill down my spine. "You’re kinda hardcore for a human. Alright, fine. I don’t like hurting chicks anyway. But if you resist, I’ll make an exception."

He tosses Mira aside like she’s a ragdoll, and she crumples to the floor. I want to rush to her, but Brick’s already striding toward me, his massive hand closing around my arm. The letter opener clatters to the floor.

"Let’s go," he growls, dragging me toward the door.

I glance back at Mira, my heart pounding. Her eyes meet mine, and I can see the frustration, the helplessness. She’s alive, but she’s in no shape to stop him.

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