Page 5 of Her Alien Owner

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Page 5 of Her Alien Owner

“Of course,” I reply with a faint smile that doesn’t reach my eyes.

As he moves away, I glance back towards Ariana. She stands near the entrance now, her eyes scanning the room with an earnest curiosity that makes her seem out of place yet perfectly natural at the same time.

I slip away from the party, the noise and laughter fading behind me like a distant storm. The halls of my estate are a maze of opulence, each corner meticulously designed to project wealth and power. I find solace in the quiet as I navigate through to a secluded terrace overlooking the gardens.

The night air is cool, carrying with it the faint scent of blooming nocturnal flowers. I lean against the stone railing, letting my eyes wander over the meticulously manicured landscape below.

I replay the evening’s events in my mind, cataloging every snippet of conversation, every morsel of information. Lord Reichenbach’s bid to outmaneuver the Rivka Consortium—valuable insight for future negotiations. Lady Thera’s interest in expanding her charity work—a potential alliance that could serve multiple purposes. Each piece fits into the larger puzzle, a web of influence and control that keeps me ahead.

But amidst all this, my thoughts keep circling back to Ariana.

Ariana. Her name is an echo in my mind, resonating with a peculiar significance I can’t quite place. Genuine, unpretentious. A breath of fresh air in a stifling room.

I want to know more about her.

The decision crystallizes within me like ice forming on still water. I will learn more about Ariana—not just out of curiositybut because she represents something rare and real in this artificial world.

For better or worse, our paths have crossed on this war-torn planet called Armstrong. And I intend to explore every twist and turn that intersection holds.

I linger on the terrace for a few more moments before heading back inside. The night is far from over, and there are still moves to be made on this intricate board we all play on.

With Ariana as an unexpected yet intriguing new piece in play.

CHAPTER 3

ARIANA

Idon’t know how much longer I can keep this up. I need to finish this job, even if the shift is excruciatingly long. But I’m finding myself exhausted after just three hours of work. These people are very demanding of their appetizers and drinks, and I’m rushing back and forth to the kitchen every few minutes.

The tray wobbles in my hands, the glasses clinking ominously. My vision blurs for a moment, and I sway on my feet.No dinner and barely a lunch, Ariana. What were you thinking?The room spins, and I trip over my own feet, stumbling forward. The tray tilts, and the drinks threaten to spill.

Strong fingers grip my arm, steadying me. My heart pounds as I look up and meet Valen’s intense green eyes. I swallow hard, thinking it's all over. I screwed up in front of the man of the house, and now I'm going to be sent home without pay.

"Careful," he says, his voice a deep rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. His hand feels strange on my skin—warmer than expected, almost electric.

"I—I'm so sorry," I stammer, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "I didn't mean to?—"

"No harm done," he interrupts smoothly, his grip firm but not painful. I can't stop thinking about the feeling of his bare skin on mine. It's not like anything I've ever felt before. I wonder if there's something about kilgari skin that interacts with human skin. I'm too flustered and embarrassed to even consider asking, though.

"Take a break," Valen suggests, his tone leaving no room for argument. He gestures to a passing servant. "Get the head butler."

My heart hammers in my chest. "Really, I’m fine," I protest weakly, though my knees feel like jelly.

Valen's gaze pierces me, and he raises an eyebrow. "You nearly fainted carrying a tray. That's not 'fine.'"

The head butler arrives, his face pinched with disapproval. "Sir?"

"She needs water and a few moments to collect herself," Valen orders, his grip on my arm loosening but still supportive.

The butler’s eyes narrow slightly. "Of course, sir." He turns to me with a forced smile. "This way.”

"Thank you," I stammer, directing it more towards Valen than the butler. The words feel inadequate for his unexpected kindness.

Valen's nod is curt, but his eyes linger on me for a moment longer than necessary. It's as if he's searching for something in my face. Then he turns away, already being pulled back into the throng of guests.

The butler leads me through the maze of hallways to the servant's quarters, grumbling under his breath about 'disruptions' and 'inefficiency.' The contrast between the opulent rooms we've left and the sparse servant’s area is stark.

He hands me a glass of water with a sigh. "Drink this quickly and get back to work," he says, clearly irritated.




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