<b>Chapter </b><b>184 </b>


    Jade’s POV:


    <b>The </b>rain tapped against the windows of my apartment, creating a soothing backdrop as Night and I shared a bottle of imported Russian vodka in the living room. The amber floormp cast long shadows across the hardwood floor, highlighting Night’s golden curls as he lounged on the sofa opposite me.


    The doorbell rang, cutting through thefortable silence between us.


    Night’s hand instinctively moved toward the concealed weapon at his ankle. “Expecting someone?” he raised an eyebrow, instantly alert despite the alcohol.


    I shook my head. “No.” I set down my ss with deliberate care and moved to the door with silent steps, my bodynguage shifting subtly from rxed to cautious.


    When I opened it, Ethan Haxton stood there, looking nothing like his usual polished self. His face was pale, almost ashen in the hallway light, hair slightly damp and disheveled. His expensive shirt was buttoned incorrectly, with one tail hanging longer than the other. One hand gripped his side protectively, knuckles white with tension.


    “Miss Morgan,” he said, his voice strained andcking its usual confidence. “I apologize for the intrusion.”


    My eyes immediately assessed him, noting the careful way he held himself and the pain evident in his tightened jaw. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead despite the cool evening. “What happened?”


    “I had an… ident. Slipped in the shower.” Ethan grimaced as he shifted his weight. “I believe I might have bruised my ribs and shoulder when I hit the tub. The pain is…” he paused, seemingly reluctant to admit weakness,


    “considerable.”


    My gaze traveled from his face to his torso. His breathing was shallow–likely from pain–and the way his left hand supported his ribcage suggested significant difort. The normally impable Ethan Haxton looked vulnerable,


    almost human.


    “Whye here<b>?</b>” I asked, though I already suspected the answer. I kept my tone neutral, betraying neither concern


    nor annoyance.


    “I’d rather avoid hospitals. Too many cameras, too many questions.” Ethan attempted a smile that didn’t quite reach his <b>eyes</b>. “The tabloids would have a field day with ‘Haxton Heir’s Bathroom Mishap.‘ I remembered you mentioned some medical training, and I thought perhaps…”


    Before <b>I </b>could respond, Night appeared behind me, his tall frame filling the doorway. His eyes narrowed as he took in Ethan’s disheveled appearance, suspicion and territorial irritation evident in his stance.


    “Did you walk into the wrong building?” Night’s voice dripped with disdain, his ent bing <b>more </b><b>pronounced</b>. “This isn’t the emergency room. If you fell, go to a hospital like normal people do. Or call <b>one </b><b>of </b><b>your </b><b>many </b>


    servants.”


    8:18 Thu, Sep <b>25 </b>


    <b>97 </b>


    Ethan straightened himself despite the obvious pain it caused him. “My apologies for the disturbance. I didn’t realize Miss Morgan hadpany.” His eyes flickered between Night and me, noting our casual attire and the evident


    . </b>


    “Night,” I said tly, “he’s hurt.”


    “So?” Night folded his arms across his chest. “Not our problem. Especially not yours, darling. We were in the middle of something.”


    Ethan nodded stiffly. “He’s right. I shouldn’t havee. I’ll find another solution.” He turned to leave but winced sharply at the movement, a small involuntary sound of pain escaping him.


    “Wait,” I said, my decision made. “Come upstairs. I’ll examine those ribs.”


    Night’s hand shot out, gripping my arm with surprising force. “No,” he said firmly, eyes shing with possessive


    anger<b>. </b>


    I met his gaze, challenge shing in my eyes. For a moment, we stood locked in silent confrontation–Night’s possessive re against my resolute stare.


    ‘It’s fine,‘ Ethan said, breaking the tension. “I don’t want to cause problems between you two.”


    “You’re not,” I replied, still looking at Night. I pulled my arm free from his grip with a subtle movement that nheless demonstrated my strength. “Wait for me. I won’t be long.”


    Night’s jaw clenched, a muscle twitching at his temple. Finally, he stepped aside, his movements deliberately slow as if to emphasize his reluctance. “Fine<b>. </b>But hurry up. Our vodka’s getting warm.” The threat beneath his casual words


    was unmistakable.


    I led Ethan <b>up </b>to my room, closing the door behind us and turning the lock with a decisive click. I noticed his shoulders slump slightly at the sound, as if the finality of it disappointed him.


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