<b>Chapter </b><b>38 </b>
Author’s POV:
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42
Ethan Haxton adjusted his custom–tailored charcoal suit as he strode through the hospital corridor. The private wing was quiet<b>, </b>a stark contrast to the chaos of the emergency department he’d passed on his way in. He checked his watch–a limited edition Patek Philippe–noting he was right on schedule despite thest–minute decision to visit.
Ethan paused at the doorway of Room 507, observing the scene before announcing his presence. Thornton was sitting up in bed, looking paler than usual but animated as he spoke with a young woman whose back was to the door. Something about her slender frame and confident posture seemed vaguely familiar.
He stepped into the room, his tall figure casting a shadow over the visitor’s chair.
“Walter,” Ethan said, his voice smooth and authoritative. “I see you’re determined to give us all a scare.”
Thornton looked up, surprise and pleasure washing over his tired features. “Ethan! This is unexpected.”
“Word travels fast when brilliant minds are in jeopardy,” Ethan replied, moving further into the room. “I heard you were admitted and thought I’d check on you personally.”
“Thank you for the concern,” Thornton said with genuine appreciation. “Just a minor episode, nothing serious. They’re releasing me tomorrow.”
“Good to hear.” Ethan’s gaze drifted to the young woman who had half–turned in her chair to look at
him. “I didn’t realize you had a visitor. <b>I </b>cane backter.”
“No, no,” Thornton waved dismissively. “I was actually nning to call you after I got out. There’s something I wanted to <b>discuss </b>about that quantumputing project. Didn’t want to bother you with your <b>busy </b>schedule, though.”
Ethan’s interest piqued–Thornton rarely reached out directly unless it involved a significant breakthrough. “I always have time for you, Walter. You know that.”
His attention shifted fully to the young woman now. There was something familiar about her–the poised stillness, the evaluating gaze. She couldn’t be more than eighteen, yet carried herself with unusualposure.
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“And who might this be<b>?</b>” Ethan asked, extending a hand in greeting. “A student of yours<b>?</b><b>” </b>
Thornton chuckled. “Not exactly. This <b>is </b>my rescuer<b>, </b>not a regr visitor. She quite literally saved my life on the street yesterday when I copsed.”
<b>42 </b>
Ethan raised an eyebrow, lowering himself into the visitor’s chair opposite the girl. As he settled in,
something clicked in his mind. Was she the girl who saved Alexander? The face was familiar<b>, </b>though
noticeably thinner now.
Connor Haxton, who had been standing quietly near the door<b>, </b>caught Ethan’s eye with a subtle nod
of recognition. Their silentmunication confirmed they were thinking the same thing.
Ethan studied her with newfound curiosity. Yesterday in Cloud City, today in New York saving more
lives.
“And your name is?” he asked smoothly, extending his hand.
Jade’s POV:
I kept my expression neutral as Haxton studied me.
While pretending to focus on my water, I was actually studying his hands. There–on the first
knuckle of his right index finger–was a small ck spider tattoo, exactly matching what I’d glimpsed through theputer camera during our cyber confrontation. So Ethan Haxton<b>, </b>billionaire CEO of the Haxton Group, was also a hacker skilled enough to give me a challenge. Interesting.
I allowed my gaze to travel over him assessingly–expensive suit, perfectly styled hair, the confident
posture of someone used tomanding rooms. His assistant shifted ufortably under my scrutiny<b>, </b>clearly thinking I was being inappropriate or disrespectful in examining his boss so boldly.
“Jade was passing by the Morrison Pharmaceutical Research Center when I copsed,” Professor
Thornton exined, oblivious to the tension. “She administered emergency treatment right there on
the sidewalk. The doctors said without her intervention, I likely wouldn’t have made it to the
hospital<b>.</b>”
Haxton’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You were at the research center?”
I noticed his gaze flick to the shopping bag beside my chair, bearing the center’s logo,
<b>10:09 </b><b>Wed</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b>17
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“Just picking up some medication,” I replied nomittally.
“What’s your name<b>?</b><b>” </b>Haxton asked, extending his hand.
<b>“</b>Jade Morgan,” I replied<b>, </b>briefly <b>epting </b>his handshake with a firm grip.
“I thought so,” Connor confirmed from behind Haxton.
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Professor Thornton beamed proudly, like I was his personal discovery. “She’s quite remarkable<b>, </b>Mr. Haxton. Not only did she save my life with expert medical intervention, but she had the presence of mind and courage to act when everyone else just stood around filming with their phones. Her future is undoubtedly bright.”
Ethan leaned forward slightly. “In today’s world where people are so hesitant to get involved, it’s refreshing to see someone willing to help aplete stranger in distress, especially a medical emergency. You must have quite apassionate nature, Ms. Morgan.”
His tone was pleasant, but his eyes held a subtle challenge, testing whether I’d acknowledge our previous connection.
“Very few people ever describe me that way,” I said tly, refusing to take his bait.
“Philip mentioned you were picking up medication,” Haxton continued smoothly. “Are you interested in medicine as a career path?”
Before I could answer, Thornton jumped in enthusiastically. “She absolutely should be! With her natural aptitude, she’d be brilliant in the field. And Ethan here is a Princeton alumnus–one of their most distinguished, I might add.”
<b>“</b>Are you considering Princeton?” Haxton asked. “With Philip’s rmendation, I imagine the <b>medical </b>school would wee you eagerly.”
<b>I </b>shook my head. “I’m more interested inputer science, actually.”
<b>“</b>Computer science<b>?</b>” Thornton echoed, sounding disappointed. “But with your medical knowledge-”
“The Haxton Group has an excellent technology division,” Haxton interjected. “<b>If </b>you’re pursuingputer science<b>, </b>we could certainly discuss opportunities after you graduate<b>.</b><b>” </b>
My eyebrow rose slightly before <b>I </b>could control it. Work for Haxton Group? His tone suggested he
was offering some rare privilege.
<b>42 </b>
I almost wanted tough. The arrogance was astounding. Did he really think the Haxton Group was such an elite threshold? I could im any number of identities that would equal or surpass his
position as CEO. Me, working for him? The very thought was absurd.
I met his gaze directly, my voice cool and t. “I’m not interested.”
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