Badass in Disguise Chapter 200

"I sent my car back to the factory for maintenance," I said, abruptly changing the subject. "Need to buy a new one for getting around. You seem like you'd know about this stuff—come with me."

Silas's intense eyes narrowed. "Finish what you were saying first."

"Cars first," I insisted, already pulling out my phone to order an Uber. "We can talk after."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but finally gave a curt nod. The Uber arrived within minutes, and we rode in silence to the luxury car dealership across town. I could feel Silas's curiosity and impatience building with each passing block, but I kept my expression neutral, staring out the window.

The dealership was a massive glass structure showcasing dozens of high-end vehicles under perfect lighting. As we walked in, a salesman with an eagerly predatory smile approached us.

"Good afternoon," he said, eyeing my casual outfit with barely concealed skepticism before his gaze shifted to Silas in his worn jeans and faded t-shirt. "Are you... looking for something in particular today?"

"I need a four-seat car," I said, ignoring his tone. "Most of my cars in Russia are two-seaters. Not always practical."

"You have multiple cars? In Russia?" Silas asked quietly.

I shrugged. "Shipping them here is a hassle. Easier to buy new ones."

The salesman's demeanor instantly transformed. "We have several excellent options. Perhaps a Porsche Panamera? Very popular with our younger clients."

"Too common," I dismissed with a wave of my hand.

"A Bentley Continental GT, then? Elegant and powerful."

I wrinkled my nose. "Too stuffy."

"Ferrari Roma? It's technically a 2+2, but—"

"I don't like it," I cut him off.

I wandered through the showroom, trailing my fingers over hoods and doors until I stopped beside a sleek black Maybach. "This one."

The salesman practically salivated. "Excellent choice. The S650 is our flagship luxury sedan. Would you like to test drive it?"

"No need. I'll take it."

While the salesman scrambled to process the paperwork, Silas leaned against a nearby pillar, arms crossed. "Do you always make major purchases this casually?"

"Only when I know what I want," I replied.

Forty minutes later, we sat in my new Maybach, the engine purring almost silently.

"Now can you tell me what you were going to say earlier?" Silas asked, his patience visibly wearing thin.

I adjusted the rearview mirror, taking my time. "You look like your brother. Same build, similar mannerisms."

His entire body tensed. "Where is he? You know where my brother is?"

I kept my eyes on the road as I pulled out of the dealership. "He's dead, Silas."

The silence that followed was heavy and brittle. When I glanced over, his face had drained of color.

"Are you fucking with me?" His voice was low, dangerous.

"No."

"Where did you see him? When?"

"I didn't see him personally," I explained. "A friend showed me his picture once."

"Where's the picture? I want to see it."

"I don't have it anymore. My friend is dead too."

"This is bullshit. You don't just tell someone their missing brother is dead without proof."

"I'm telling you what I know."

"How did he die? When?"

"I don't know the details."

"Did he know?" Silas's voice cracked slightly. "Did he know he had a brother?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "That's why I can't be absolutely certain he was your brother. I didn't know him well. My friend mentioned him a few times, but I never got to meet him."

Silas stared at me, eyes burning with suspicion. "So you've been weirdly nice to me, helping me out, because of him? Because of your dead friend?"

"Would I bother with your problems if it wasn't for my friend? Not likely."

"What if I'm not his brother? What if I just look like him?"

I gripped the steering wheel, eyes forward. "Looking like him is enough."

Silas was quiet for a moment. "Was your friend a woman or a man?"

"A woman."

"You must have been close for you to care this much about her friend's possible brother."

I shot him a sidelong glance. "You seem more interested in my friend than your brother."

He didn't respond.

"Or are you fishing for some other reason why I might be helping you?" I smirked. "Like maybe I'm interested in you?"

"That's ridiculous," he snapped, his pale skin flushing. "I wasn't implying anything."

I changed the subject. "How are those notes working out for you? Do you need help with any of the material? I could tutor you."

"I can manage on my own," he muttered, turning to look out the window.

---

Two days later, exam results were posted. Silas had scored at the very bottom of the class.

I was leaving the lecture hall when he approached me, shoulders tight with tension but chin raised defiantly.

"You said you could help me with the material," he said without preamble.

I smiled, not unkindly. "Come by my place after school."

He hesitated, then nodded once.

When we arrived at my place, he stood awkwardly by the door, taking in the minimalist luxury of the space.

Captain padded over to investigate him, sniffing curiously at his shoes.

"He won't bite," I assured him. "Unless I tell him to."

Silas didn't seem to find that amusing.

I disappeared into my room and returned with a sleek MacBook Pro. "Here," I said, holding it out to him. "Take it."

He started to refuse, but I cut him off. "How do you expect to study computer science without a computer?"

That silenced his objection. He took the laptop, his expression a mix of reluctance and necessity.

I sat at the dining table and gestured for him to join me. "Let's start with last semester's material. You need to understand those concepts before you can make sense of the current lectures."

For the next several hours, I walked him through the fundamentals, explaining concepts clearly and concisely. Silas was a quick learner, absorbing information rapidly once it was presented logically.

Around six, my personal chef arrived to prepare dinner, fed Captain, and then departed. Silas and I ate at the table while continuing to work.

By ten o'clock, I could see fatigue setting in behind his eyes.

"That's enough for today," I said, closing my notebook. "You've made good progress."

He stood, gathering his things, the laptop tucked carefully under his arm. "I'll pay you back for this," he said, gesturing to the computer.

After he left, I went upstairs to my room and opened my own laptop. A few commands later, the screen displayed: **[SYSTEM CONNECTION SUCCESSFUL]**.

---

Over the next few days, a routine developed. Silas and I would leave campus together and head to my apartment for tutoring sessions. The change wasn't lost on our classmates, who whispered and speculated whenever we passed.

"Are they dating?"

"Maybe she's helping him because she feels sorry for him."

On Thursday afternoon, we were deep into a complex algorithm problem when Captain suddenly lifted his head, ears perked toward the door. A moment later, the doorbell rang.

Captain trotted to the door, standing on his hind legs to press the door handle down with his paws. The door swung open to reveal Ethan Haxton in an impeccable charcoal suit.

Captain's reaction was immediate and unequivocal. He slammed the door shut with his front paws, nearly catching Ethan's perfectly polished shoes.

"Captain!" I called. "Open the door properly."

Captain whined but obeyed, reopening the door and stepping aside to let Ethan enter.