Your Girlfriend Calls Me Daddy

Chapter 166 - 167 | The In-Tray

"I was always a real boy."

"Debatable." She pressed against my side, her tail wrapping around my waist. "But I like this version. The one who gives pretty girls time to figure their shit out instead of bulldozing through their defenses."

"I didn’t bulldoze your defenses."

"Babe, you absolutely did. I just happened to enjoy it."

Cheon made a small sound that might have been agreement. "She’s right. Your approach with me was not exactly subtle."

"You liked it."

"That’s beside the point."

"Is it though?"

She flushed, which was always entertaining. "We’re getting off topic."

"What was the topic?"

"Aurora. Your plans. The fact that you’re apparently developing emotional capacity at an alarming rate."

"I wouldn’t call it alarming."

"Rome." She grabbed my face with both hands, forcing me to look at her. "You have spent the last two weeks operating like a machine designed to collect women. And now you’re telling me you’re starting to actually care about them. About us. Do you understand how significant that is?"

"I’m aware."

"Are you? Because from my perspective, this changes everything."

"How?"

"Because—" She stopped. Took a breath. "Because I was prepared to share you with women who were just numbers to you. I wasn’t prepared to share you with women you actually love."

The word hit me like a physical blow.

Love.

Did I love them?

I looked at Cheon, with her serious eyes and her organized mind and her desperate need to control everything around her. I looked at Mera, with her sharp smile and her shameless confidence and her loyalty that came wrapped in jokes. I thought about Noel, fighting so hard against feelings she didn’t want. About Laurana, lonely and brilliant and burning. About Aurora, standing on the rooftop trying to figure out what she really wanted.

Did I love them?

"I don’t know," I said honestly. "I don’t know what love feels like. I’ve never had time to figure it out. But I know that losing any of you would hurt in ways I’m not prepared to deal with. I know that making you happy matters more than completing the quest. I know that somewhere along the way, this stopped being about survival and started being about something else."

"What else?"

"Home." The word came out rough. "You’re all... you’re all home. And I’ve never had that before."

Cheon’s eyes went bright with tears she refused to let fall. Mera pressed closer, her usual sharpness softened into something vulnerable. Neither of them spoke for a long moment.

Then Mera said, "Well fuck."

"Yeah."

"You can’t just say shit like that."

"Sorry."

"No you’re not."

"No, I’m not."

She kissed me, hard and fast, pulling back before I could deepen it. "You’re a disaster and I hate you and if you ever leave I’ll portal you into the bottom of the ocean."

"Noted."

Cheon’s turn. She kissed me softer, slower, like she was trying to memorize the taste. When she pulled back, her cheeks were wet.

"I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you," she whispered.

"Sorry."

"Liar."

"Yeah."

We stood there, the three of us tangled together in the kitchen of a penthouse that had become something more than just a place to sleep. The drain hummed between us, connecting us in ways that went beyond physical contact.

My phone buzzed.

I ignored it.

It buzzed again.

And again.

"Someone really wants your attention," Mera said.

I pulled it out reluctantly.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Mr. D’Angelo. This is Marcus Vane, head of recruitment for Vanguard. Titan spoke highly of your performance in today’s match. We’d like to meet tomorrow to discuss your future with our organization.

Another message, this one from a different number.

ANGELO CORP LEGAL: Rome, your father requires your presence at headquarters tomorrow at 10 AM. Non-negotiable.

And another.

VIVIAN: Don’t forget about our appointment, little brother. I’ve been thinking about you all day.

And one more.

NOEL: Wednesday. 3-A. Don’t be late.

I stared at the screen, my brief moment of emotional clarity already fading under the weight of a dozen different demands.

"Let me guess," Cheon said. "Problems."

"When isn’t there?"

"What kind?"

I showed her the messages. Her expression shifted from concern to calculation as she processed the implications.

"Vanguard wants to recruit you. Your father wants to see you. Your sister wants to... I don’t want to know what Vivian wants. And Noel is scheduling your next hookup."

"Sounds about right."

"You need a secretary."

"I have you."

"I’m your girlfriend, not your personal assistant."

"Can’t you be both?"

She hit my shoulder, but there was no real force behind it. "We need to prioritize. Vanguard is an opportunity you can’t pass up. Your father will make your life miserable if you ignore him. Vivian is a wild card. And Noel..."

"Noel can wait until Wednesday."

"Can she?"

"She scheduled it herself. She’s not going anywhere."

Mera stretched, her back arching in ways that immediately distracted me. "So what’s the plan?"

"Tomorrow I deal with my father. Then I meet with Vanguard. Then I figure out what to do about Vivian."

"And Aurora?"

I thought about the girl on the rooftop, golden eyes full of questions I couldn’t answer. "Aurora has my number. When she’s ready, she’ll reach out."

"And if she decides she doesn’t want this?"

"Then she doesn’t want this." The words hurt more than I expected. "I told her it was her choice. I meant it."

Cheon studied my face for a long moment. Then she nodded, something like approval in her expression. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay. We’ll figure this out together. All of it. The agencies, your father, Vivian, Aurora. All of it."

"We?"

"You think I’m letting you walk into a meeting with Vito Angelo alone? After everything?"

Mera grinned. "Count me in too."

"You have classes."

"Classes are boring. Family drama is interesting."

"You can’t just skip—"

"Watch me."

I looked at them. My girlfriends. My partners. My home.

"Fine," I said. "But if this goes sideways—"

"It won’t," Cheon said firmly. "Because we’ll be there."

"And if it does," Mera added, "I’ll portal your father into traffic."

"That’s murder."

"It’s problem-solving."