Badass in Disguise Chapter 102

After Ethan Haxton left the office, the oppressive atmosphere seemed to dissolve with him. Philip Thornton leaned back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with undisguised curiosity.

"So, you and Ethan Haxton..." he began casually, "just friends? Or... something more?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Just acquaintances, President Thornton."

"Acquaintances don't solve twenty-three million dollar problems for you, Miss Morgan." Thornton smiled slyly. "Nor do they casually offer their apartments as living quarters."

"It's merely a business arrangement," I replied coolly, though I knew Thornton wouldn't buy such a simple explanation.

He cleared his throat. "Speaking of arrangements, I have two grandsons here at Princeton. Brilliant mind, excellent academic record, and quite popular on campus. I think you might have a lot in common."

I almost laughed. Was the university president actually trying to set me up?

"I appreciate the thought, President Thornton," I said, looking him directly in the eyes, "but if I'm looking for someone, my minimum standard would be someone like Ethan Haxton."

Thornton blinked, then chuckled. "Fair enough. To be honest, you've already met my grandson. If there had been any interest, I'd have noticed by now."

I raised my eyebrows. "I've met him?"

"Indeed. But considering you don't even remember who they are, I should probably abandon this matchmaking attempt," he said, standing to signal our conversation was over.

---

At seven-thirty that evening, I walked out of the academic building to find a black Maybach waiting at the curb. The window lowered to reveal Ethan Haxton's sharply defined profile.

"Need a ride, Miss Morgan?" His voice was deep and composed.

I approached the car, noting Connor in the driver's seat nodding a greeting. The evening air was cool against my skin as I slipped into the back seat beside Ethan, the leather interior soft and luxurious beneath me.

"I actually have something for you," I said, pulling a small elegant box from my bag and handing it to Ethan. "As promised."

Ethan opened the box to reveal a sleek, expensive watch. His eyes brightened slightly as he examined the intricate details on the dial, his long fingers tracing the edges with appreciation.

"The best birthday gift I've received this year. Thank you," he said, his tone unusually warm.

"Birthday gift?" I raised an eyebrow. "When is your birthday? Turning thirty?"

Ethan narrowed his eyes.

"No offense intended," I said with a slight shrug. "Just making conversation."

I pulled out Chase's phone and continued the game level he couldn't pass. On screen, a tiny character jumped across a series of obstacles, the bright colors contrasting with the muted luxury of the car's interior.

"That's not the same phone you were using before," Ethan observed, his voice taking on a subtle edge.

"This? It's Chase's phone," I replied without looking up, my fingers moving deftly across the screen.

Ethan didn't respond immediately, but I could feel his stare lingering. The atmosphere in the car shifted subtly, charged with an unspoken tension.

"I wasn't aware you and Chase were close," he finally said, his tone casual yet somehow pointed.

I shrugged, eyes still on the game. "We're not. He's just terrible at this game."

Connor caught my eye in the rearview mirror, the ghost of a smile on his face as he navigated through the evening traffic.

---

When we arrived at the Grand Plaza Hotel, Ethan led us to a private VIP dining room. As the door opened, I immediately noticed Alexander Haxton inside, already waiting. He was impeccably dressed in what looked like a freshly pressed suit, nervously adjusting his tie. The room itself was elegant—crystal glasses gleaming under soft lighting, fresh flowers adorning the center of the table.

Alexander's head snapped up at our entrance, his eyes widening with obvious shock when he spotted his uncle.

"Un-uncle?" he stammered, rising to his feet so quickly he nearly knocked over his chair.

Ethan walked in confidently, with me and Connor following behind. Alexander's gaze darted between the three of us, clearly bewildered, his face paling slightly.

"Alex, it's been a while," Ethan said flatly, as if this meeting had been entirely expected.

I chose the seat to Ethan's left, while Alexander sat across from us, keeping his distance as if proximity to his uncle might burn him. His posture betrayed obvious tension, shoulders hunched slightly despite his expensive tailoring.

---

"Here's the menu, Miss Morgan." Ethan handed me the elegant leather-bound menu, his voice gentle and polite. "See anything you'd like?"

I browsed the options, occasionally glancing at Alexander across the table. He sat nervously, fingers tapping lightly on the tablecloth, his eyes flicking toward Ethan then quickly away, like a small animal afraid of attracting a predator's attention.

"He seems afraid of you," I murmured to Ethan, keeping my voice low enough that only he could hear.

Ethan smiled slightly. "It's just respect. Alex, I hope you don't mind that Miss Morgan invited me to join dinner?"

Alexander immediately straightened his back. "Of course not, wel-welcome, Uncle..." His voice trailed off as he reached for his water glass with shaking fingers.

His stutter confirmed my suspicion that this was definitely more than just "respect." There was genuine fear there, and I found myself curious about what Ethan might have done to inspire such terror in his own nephew.

After the waiter came in and took our orders, Ethan expertly recommended several dishes, then turned to me. "About the compensation matter with your classmate's father—I've made arrangements."

He pulled a bank card from his pocket and slid it across to me. "For your wine."

"That was quick," I remarked, raising an eyebrow as I examined the sleek black card.

"Hayes' family couldn't come up with that much cash," Ethan explained, "so they're transferring ownership of one of their subsidiary companies instead. The subsidiary has been transferred and is being evaluated," he continued in a purely business tone. "If it's profitable, I'll have someone manage it in your name. If it's losing money, we'll sell it and give you the cash value."

"This money is actually compensation for your damaged luggage," I reminded him.

The corner of Ethan's mouth curved upward. "The luggage was bought for you, so naturally the compensation goes to you as well."

Across the table, Alexander looked completely lost, clearly having no idea what we were discussing, but too intimidated to ask. His eyes darted between us like he was watching a tennis match in a foreign language.

---

When dinner arrived, Ethan served me soup himself, his movements elegant and natural. He poured me a glass of red wine and added several dishes to my plate. Throughout this process, he almost completely ignored Alexander's existence, causing his nephew to shrink further into his chair.

"Tomorrow I'll pick you up from campus with your belongings," Ethan said suddenly, "and take you to see the apartment."

Alexander couldn't help but look up at me when he heard this, surprise flashing in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, thinking better of it.

Ethan displayed the watch I'd given him on his wrist, turning it slightly so the light caught its face. "The craftsmanship on this watch is exquisite. You must have put a lot of thought into it, Miss Morgan."

*Just one phone call to Night. Didn't spend a dime,* I thought, but outwardly responded calmly: "I'm glad you like it, Mr. Haxton."

"Of course I like it—it's from Miss Morgan," Ethan replied with satisfaction, his gaze briefly sweeping over Alexander before asking coolly, "Why aren't you eating? Don't you like the food?"