Your Girlfriend Calls Me Daddy Chapter 59 | I Am Officially An Adaptive-Type

I jolted awake at exactly 3:08 AM according to the blue glow of the clock on my nightstand. Not because of a nightmare or so existential crisis about being transmigrated into a novel. No, I woke up because ra was wrapped around like a full-body tourniquet.

Her tail coiled around my right leg. Her arms locked around my torso. Her face buried in my neck, breathing hot against my skin with each exhale. Even in sleep, she kept sniffing like I was so kind of pheromone factory she couldn’t get enough of.

I tried to shift without waking her, but her grip tightened instantly.

"Stay," she mumbled against my throat, not even fully conscious.

"I’m not going anywhere. Just need to breathe."

She made a small sound of protest but loosened her death grip slightly. Her red skin was warm against mine—warr than normal human temperature, another quirk of her Root-Type modifications. The room slled like sex and her cinnamon scent, a combination that my brain had already categorized as "ho" despite knowing her for all of three days.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. At three in the goddamn morning.

I reached over, careful not to disturb ra again, and checked the screen. Private number.

Great. Either this was an ergency or soone about to die. Possibly both.

I answered with a cautious, "Hello?"

"Ro D’Angelo?" A man’s voice, crisp and professional.

"Speaking."

"This is Marcus Weyland, your father’s assistant and liaison at ECHO. Apologies for the hour, but I wanted to inform you personally that your license has been updated in the system."

I sat up straighter, suddenly wide awake. "Updated how?"

"You’re now officially registered as having an adaptive-type Essentia, activated after eting certain undisclosed prerequisites. The classification allows for signature variability within NEA paraters."

Holy shit. They actually did it. The old man ca through.

"That was... fast."

"Your father’s request received priority processing. The update is already live in the national database."

"And the testing requirent?"

"Waived under corporate sponsorship protocol. We’ve noted that preliminary scans showed unstable readings typical of adaptive-types. Any further inquiries should be directed to the communications team at Angelo Enterprises."

"Thank you for letting know."

"Of course. Good night, Mr. D’Angelo."

The call ended, and I set my phone down with a small laugh. Money really did solve just about anything in this world.

One phone call from Vito D’Angelo, and suddenly my unregistered ability beca fully docunted without ever stepping foot in a testing facility.

Problem solved. No NEA investigation. No uncomfortable questions about why my Essentia seed to change daily. Just a clean, corporate-backed solution that gave cover to operate.

Except it didn’t solve my Cheon problem.

The class representative had already seen too much, felt too much. A database update wouldn’t erase what happened between us in that storage room—her gasping against the wall while my fingers moved inside her, her Essentia pouring into through every point of contact.

I closed my eyes and saw her again: perfect posture, light blue hair pulled into that severe ponytail, grey eyes widening in shock when I touched her. The way her entire body shuddered when she ca. The indignation and confusion afterward.

She might be uptight. She might be a pain in my ass. But fuck, she was sexy when she broke. Those perfect legs in those thigh-high socks. That uniform skirt riding up over her hips. Those ridiculous panda-print panties that sohow made the whole thing hotter.

My mind wandered to how she might look in sothing less innocent. Sothing like a reverse bunny costu, black and tight against her skin, with small pasties barely covering her nipples. Her face flushed pink as she called "master" instead of trying to lecture about academy regulations.

My dick responded imdiately to the ntal image. Blood rushing south with zero concern for the fact that I’d already gone four rounds with ra earlier.

A sharp pain at my neck snapped back to reality.

"Ow! What the—"

ra had bitten . Not a playful love bite, but an actual "I’m going to leave teeth marks" bite. Her yellow eyes glowed in the darkness, narrowed and knowing.

"You’re thinking about another woman," she said.

"I’m not."

"Your dick says otherwise." She glanced pointedly at the tent in the sheet. "And you weren’t paying attention to , so it wasn’t about ."

Fuck. Was there mind reading in her power set I didn’t know about?

"It was a work call."

"Work calls don’t make you hard." Her tail tightened around my leg. "Tell the truth."

I sighed. "Fine. I was thinking about Cheon."

ra’s expression shifted from annoyed to calculating. "The class representative? With the blue hair and the staring problem?"

"That’s the one."

"The one who called your phone at one in the morning and cornered in the bathroom to ask about your ability?"

"Yeah."

She studied my face for a mont, then flopped back onto the pillow. "I guess I can’t bla you. She’s hot in that uptight librarian way."

"You think she’s hot?"

"I have eyes."

I couldn’t argue with that logic. "The call was about my Essentia registration. It’s been updated in the system. I’m officially an adaptive-type now."

ra sat up, suddenly alert. "They just... changed it? Without testing you?"

"Corporate sponsorship protocol, apparently."

She snorted. "Rich people magic."

"It solves half our problems."

"And creates new ones." She traced a finger down my chest. "Now you need to actually act like an adaptive-type in public. You need to understand what they look like, how they behave, what limitations they have."

"I’ll figure it out."

"We’ll figure it out," she corrected. "But first, we need to deal with Panda."

I nodded. "Tomorrow."

"Today, technically." ra glanced at the clock. "In about five hours."

"Fuck."

"Not right now." She yawned and curled back against . "You were just thinking about another woman."

"I could be thinking about you now."

"Prove it."

I rolled over, pinning her beneath . Her tail imdiately wrapped around my waist, pulling closer. Her skin was flushed darker red along her cheekbones and down her throat—a telltale sign of her arousal that I was learning to read like a map.

"I’m still mad," she said, but her legs spread to make room for .

"No, you’re not."

"I could be."

"But you’re not."

She sighed, a sound that lted into a moan as I lowered my head to her neck and bit her in the sa spot she’d bitten . Payback.

"Wait," she gasped.

I paused. "What?"

"The contract for Cheon. You never signed it."

"Are you seriously thinking about paperwork right now?"

"I’m thinking we should both sign it before we give it to her. So she knows we’re unified."

I pushed myself up to look at her. "You want to sign a legal docunt at three in the morning before we have sex?"

"After is fine too."

"ra."

"Fine, after." She pulled back down. "But don’t forget."

"I won’t forget."

"You might, after what I’m about to do to you."

She flipped us, suddenly on top, and the look in her eyes told sleep wasn’t happening anyti soon.

I wasn’t complaining.