Badass in Disguise Chapter 277

Author's POV:

And just at that moment, Ethan Haxton finally arrived with a large security team, his eyes immediately finding Jade hanging precariously from the cliff edge.

"Jade!" Ethan shouted, sprinting toward the cliff.

SPECTER knew he was finished. Jade wouldn't give him any chance to negotiate with Ethan. Even if Ethan somehow offered him a way out, he couldn't escape this island. The bitter acceptance of his inevitable fate was masked by defiance in his eyes.

Jade felt the shift in SPECTER's energy before he moved, her body instinctively trying to pull away despite her depleted strength. She attempted to push herself up from the cliff edge, muscles screaming in protest.

"Let's go to hell together!" SPECTER's voice cracked with madness as he lunged toward her.

Bullets tore through the air, ripping into his body, but nothing stopped his momentum. Jade had no strength left to save herself. SPECTER crashed into her, and together they plummeted over the cliff edge.

Ethan's desperate scream echoed above them: "JADE!"

The moment they fell, SPECTER triggered the explosives strapped to his body. A blinding flash erupted around them, followed by a deafening boom that swallowed everything else.

Up on the cliff, Ethan raced to the edge...

The island, located near the Bermuda Triangle, was subjected to a barrage of explosions that seemed to have no end. Half the island eventually sank beneath the waves, taking with it the ornate fortress that had been the headquarters of the Shadow Organization. The place that had housed countless atrocities and ruled the assassination world with an iron grip disappeared forever into the depths of the Sea.

The infamous Shadow Organization—the group that had played God, taking lives at will—was dismantled in less than twenty-four hours. Almost no one knew that the architect of its destruction was the very assassin they'd betrayed and left for dead in Caribbean Sea.

Simultaneously, Shadow Organization bases worldwide erupted in flames. The coordinated explosions across multiple countries caused widespread panic among civilian populations. Apart from those directly involved and the few Organization survivors, no one understood what had triggered this wave of apparent terrorist attacks.

For weeks afterward, people around the world would live in fear, wondering if another attack was imminent.

---

*Two weeks later - New York*

The Haxton family mansion stood quiet and somber in late April. The sprawling estate, usually bustling with staff, felt unnaturally still. In his study, Ethan Haxton sat behind his desk, piles of documents scattered before him. The past two weeks had aged him visibly—his once-vibrant green eyes now dull and shadowed by dark circles, his face gaunt from lack of proper meals and sleep.

As Ethan ready to stand up, his laptop suddenly chimed. A notification appeared on screen: "New message from: Jade Morgan." His hand froze mid-air, coffee forgotten.

With trembling fingers, he clicked on the message. A video file opened, revealing Jade sitting comfortably in a leather armchair. The background was her room in the African villa—the one she'd occupied before sending him to Poland.

"This video is set to send automatically after two weeks," Jade said, her expression calm and collected. "If you're seeing this, it means I couldn't cancel it in time. I suppose my luck finally ran out."

Ethan's throat tightened. She had recorded this as a contingency, preparing for her own death.

"I'm not good with words," she continued after a brief pause. "Or feelings, for that matter. But I wanted to say something to you, in case I didn't get the chance later."

She shifted slightly in the chair, a rare display of uncertainty from someone who always seemed so confident.

"In this second life of mine, Mr. Haxton, you were my greatest surprise." A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "I didn't expect you. I didn't expect any of this. But I'm glad it happened."

Her eyes softened in a way he'd rarely seen. "I hope you live a full and complete life, Ethan. That's what I wish for you."

A full and complete life? The words stung Ethan like a physical blow. Was she telling him to move on? To find happiness with someone else? Anger surged through him, propelling him from his chair. He strode from the study, his pace quickening with each step, driven by an urgent need.

Soon, he was back at his bedroom door, carefully pushing it open and crossing the living area to reach the bedroom beyond. Despite his haste, he moved quietly, careful not to disturb the room's occupant.

On the large bed lay a motionless figure. Jade's eyes remained closed, her face pale and drawn. Her thin body was barely visible beneath the blankets. An IV stand stood beside the bed, and the air carried the faint antiseptic smell of a hospital room.

If not for the almost imperceptible rise and fall of her chest, she might have appeared already gone.

Jade hadn't died on that island. In the split second when SPECTER lunged at her, she had twisted her body outward, allowing herself to fall rather than be pushed. While SPECTER had been blown to pieces by his own explosives, Jade had plummeted into the sea below, missing the jagged rocks by mere feet.

Ethan, in an act of desperate courage, had immediately dived after her. Against all odds, he'd found her unconscious body in the churning waters and brought her to shore.

Now he sat beside her on the bed, gazing at her nearly lifeless face. The contrast between the vibrant, speaking Jade in the video and the silent, still form before him made his chest constrict painfully.

For two weeks, she had remained unconscious. Just this morning, two renowned neurologists had examined her and delivered the same prognosis.

Ethan gently pulled one of her hands from beneath the blanket. He tugged her sleeve down slightly to cover the bandages on her arm, his fingertips lightly stroking the bruises and needle marks on the back of her hand.

"I saw your video," he said softly. "It was meant to be a goodbye letter, I think. But you're still here, so to me, it was more like a love letter." A faint smile crossed his lips.

After two weeks of hearing nothing but bad news, Ethan found comfort in her recorded words, feeling as though she had somehow reached across time to console him.

"I told you before that the only person I'll spend my life with is you," he continued. "Even if on that island you..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought. "I could never be with anyone else."

"You promised to have dinner with my parents. They haven't properly met you yet. Breaking promises isn't like you."

The next day, Connor escorted two more neurologists and a specialist from Europe to the mansion. All three were giants in the medical field.

Ethan watched as they examined Jade, consulted her charts, and reviewed her brain scans. He'd witnessed this scene repeatedly over the past two weeks.

Once again, he received the same diagnosis.

After Connor escorted the doctors out, he returned to offer Ethan some comfort. "Mr. Haxton, two more specialists are arriving from Germany tomorrow, and Chris Jensen is contacting other experts. Please don't lose hope. Miss Morgan will pull through this—I'm certain of it."

Ethan barely acknowledged the encouragement, his attention fixed on Jade's still form.

At noon, Walter Morrison arrived to administer specialized neurological treatment. Ethan had hired an entire medical team to remain on standby at the mansion, even purchasing necessary medical equipment to create a hospital room within his home. A nurse waited nearby, ready to change the dressings on Jade's wounds.

Suddenly, Connor burst into the room, his expression grave.

"Mr. Haxton," he said urgently, "Night has surrounded the mansion with his men. He's demanding that you hand Miss Morgan over to him."