Badass in Disguise Chapter 226

Chris Jensen rubbed his temples, slumping back in his leather office chair. The evening had grown late, but his day was far from over. He reached for his phone and dialed a familiar number, putting it on speaker while massaging his neck.

"Hey," Jade's voice came through after two rings.

"Today went pretty well with Silas," Chris said, his voice betraying his exhaustion. "Also quite smooth. We talked about his childhood. That car owner's death is still a major trauma for him. We need to take it slow, can't rush this."

"It is." Jade said.

Chris sighed. "He has depression. Has had it since he was very young. I gave him some medication, but pills only treat the symptoms, not the cause."

He paused, then added, "I probably can't help him much, but you, Jade—yes, you—you could help him more than I can."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"He likes you. You must have noticed. And now that you and Ethan Haxton have split, he sees hope."

Chris yawned widely. "I'm fine, just tired. Been helping a friend with two patients these past couple days. I even fell asleep while talking to Silas today. Embarrassing as hell. Getting old, I guess. Body can't keep up anymore."

"Is that your way of saying you're too tired to help him?" Jade's voice sharpened.

"Not at all. But Jade, you're at the perfect age for romance. Silas seems quite nice—good looking, decent personality."

"What the fuck—"

"Why the profanity? You're in the bloom of youth—why not date? Having a sweet romance with a handsome guy could please you and help his condition. Win-win."

"You're seriously suggesting I date a patient for therapeutic purposes?"

"He told me he stayed alive because of you. Would have done something stupid otherwise."

Before Jade could respond, a knock interrupted them. The door opened slightly, and Silas Murphy appeared in the doorway.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said quietly, looking between Chris and the phone on the desk. "I left my keys here."

He gestured toward the chair where he had sat earlier. Sure enough, a set of keys lay on the cushion.

"Want to join us for dinner?" Chris asked politely as Silas retrieved his keys.

"No, thanks." Silas pocketed the keys and left without another word.

---

That weekend, Silas walked the familiar path to Jade's apartment, an elegant paper box containing pastries in his hand. His steps faltered when a sleek black Maybach pulled alongside him, the tinted window rolling down to reveal Ethan Haxton's cold stare.

"For her?" Ethan nodded at the box in Silas's hand.

Silas didn't bother answering the obvious question. "I think she made herself perfectly clear to you last time."

Ethan's voice dropped dangerously low. "My relationship with her is none of your business."

"My confidence comes from her," Silas replied, holding Ethan's gaze. "She gave me that."

Ethan's jaw tightened. "In this city, making someone disappear is easier than crushing an ant beneath my shoe."

The threat hung in the air between them.

"She knew my brother long before she met you," Silas said quietly.

"And that matters because...?" Ethan's jawline tensed.

"To her, I'm far more important than you." Silas's eyes hardened. "A man of your stature, Mr. Haxton—this desperate clinging is beneath you. Becoming quite annoying. Don't lose your dignity."

Ethan's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, but before he could respond, movement at the building entrance caught their attention.

Jade emerged with a garbage bag, freezing when she spotted them. Her eyes darted between the two men, quickly assessing the situation.

"What did you say to him?" she demanded of Ethan, then turned to Silas. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Silas replied quietly.

Ethan watched the exchange, disappointment and anger flashing across his face. Without a word, he rolled up the window and drove away, the Maybach's engine purring softly as it disappeared down the street.

Jade tossed the garbage into the dumpster and headed back inside. Silas followed her into the building.

"Did he threaten you?"

Silas considered this. "Not exactly. But even if he had, it would be understandable."

Jade frowned, clearly annoyed by the situation.

"I brought you cake," Silas offered, changing the subject. "Would you like some?"

"I don't eat sweets," Jade replied flatly.

"What do you like? I'll bring it next time."

"Don't bother."

A moment passed in awkward silence. Then, as if reconsidering, Jade's tone softened slightly. "Put it in the fridge. I'll have it later."

Silas brightened visibly. "Sure."

---

That night, Silas returned to his apartment to find it in complete disarray. Drawers had been pulled out, contents dumped on the floor. Standing amid the chaos was his father, Hank Murphy, his face bruised and swollen, clearly drunk and agitated.

"You little shit," Hank slurred when he saw Silas. "Your mother dies and you hoard all the money for yourself. Give me every cent you've hidden, or I'll beat you to death."

Silas ignored him, stepping over the scattered belongings on the floor. This enraged Hank, who lunged forward and grabbed Silas's arm.

"Growing some balls, huh? Ignoring your old man?" He raised his hand to strike Silas across the face. "Think you're too good for me now?"

Silas twisted away, throwing his father off balance. Hank stumbled but quickly recovered, charging at Silas with unexpected speed.

"You dare fight your own father?" Hank screamed, tackling Silas to the ground. "You ungrateful piece of shit! You'll end up just like your whore mother!"

Pinned beneath his father, Silas blocked the older man's wild punches with one arm. For a moment, something dark and lethal flashed in Silas's eyes. His free hand formed a claw, fingers rigid as he aimed for his father's throat.

The sound of the door being kicked open startled them both.

Jade stood in the doorway, her expression cold and calculating as she took in the scene.

"Get off him," she commanded, her voice eerily calm.

When Hank didn't move, she strode forward and delivered a swift kick to his ribs, sending him sprawling across the floor.

"Leave. Now. Unless you want to die tonight." The threat wasn't empty—her eyes promised follow-through.

Hank scrambled to his feet, his face contorted with rage and humiliation. "Well, well. The boy's got himself a girlfriend. Pretty thing, too. Must be nice having a rich piece of ass—"

He never finished the sentence. With a roar of pure fury, Silas launched himself at his father, fists connecting with brutal precision. Blood sprayed from Hank's nose and mouth as he desperately tried to shield himself from his son's onslaught.

"Get out!" Silas screamed, landing blow after blow. "Get out and never come back!"

Hank finally broke free and stumbled toward the door, blood streaming down his face. He spat a final curse before disappearing into the night.

Silas stood trembling in the center of the room, his knuckles split and bleeding.

"I should get some antiseptic for those cuts," Jade said, breaking the heavy silence. "There's a pharmacy down the street. I'll be right back."

Silas nodded wordlessly, not turning to watch her leave.

The moment the door closed behind her, something changed. Silas's trembling stopped. His breathing steadied. He walked to the sink, dampened a towel, and methodically wiped the blood from his knuckles.

When he looked up, his reflection in the window showed a face completely empty of emotion.