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    <i>97 </i>


    Jade’s POV:


    Ethan and I ducked into what appeared to be an underground food storage cer, the earthy smell of root vegetables filling the cramped space. Distant shouts echoed above us as Scorpio’s men continued their search. I pulled the wooden door shut, plunging us into near darkness save for thin slivers of moonlight filtering through the cracks.


    “That was close,” Ethan whispered, his breath visible in the cool air.


    I nodded, scanning our surroundings. The small room was lined with wooden shelves stocked with preserved foods and fresh produce. Ethan reached toward a small container, pulling out what looked like blueberries.


    “Try one,” he said, offering me a plump berry between his fingers.


    I epted it without hesitation, popping it into my mouth. “Sour,” I stated tly.


    Ethan raised an eyebrow, taking one for himself. His expression changed to surprise as he bit into it. “Mine’s sweet,” he said, examining the remaining berries more closely.


    I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. Something about his confusion was strangely endearing.


    “Here,” he said, carefully selecting a few more. “These look riper…”


    Before I could respond, my heightened senses caught the sound of footsteps directly above us. <b>I </b>swiftly reached out, pressing my palm firmly against Ethan’s mouth. “Shhh,” I breathed, barely audible.


    Ethan froze at the sudden contact, his eyes widening slightly. I felt his warm breath against my palm as neither of us moved. The unexpected intimacy of the moment seemed to affect him more than me–I noticed his hand tightening around the berries until juice began seeping between his fingers.


    We remained still as statues while heavy boots thumped across the wooden floorboards above our heads. After what felt like an eternity, the footsteps faded. I slowly removed my hand from Ethan’s mouth, noting the slight heat across his cheeks.


    “They’re gone,” I whispered. “Let’s move while we can.”


    We slipped out of the cer and into the night, making our way through the shadows back toward the main road. The streets were eerily quiet now, most of Scorpio’s search parties having moved to other sectors of the valley.


    Ethan walked half a step behind me, asionally ncing at my profile when he thought I wouldn’t notice. I could feel his gaze like a physical touch.


    “<b>Connor’s </b>gone,” he observed when we reached the spot where his car had been stuck. “<b>He </b>must have gotten it out and relocated.”


    <b>8:20 </b><b>Thu</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>25 </b>


    “Looks like we’re walking,” I said<b>, </b>setting off toward our temporary hideout.


    “This is <b>the </b>second time we’ve been alone together,” Ethan noted after several minutes <b>of </b>silence<b>. </b>“Since we met, I mean. Besides that time you drove me around to see the ocean, this seems to be our second solo adventure.<b>” </b>


    <b>1979 </b>


    I gave him a sidelong nce. “How does it feel, Mr. Haxton? Your second time doing something this… ndestine<b>?</b><b>” </b>


    “Exhrating,” he admitted, his voice carrying a hint of something I couldn’t quite ce. “Different from boardroom negotiations, though arguably just as dangerous sometimes.”


    Before I could respond, I spotted movement at the street corner ahead–a group of men with the distinctive blue scorpion tattoos on their wrists. I counted at least twenty of them, blocking our path.


    “Shit,” I muttered. “I’m getting tired of all these fightstely.”


    Ethan stepped forward, positioning himself slightly in front of me. “Let me handle this.”


    I raised an eyebrow, amused by his chivalry. “Your coat will get in the way,” I said, eyeing his long ck overcoat. “Take it off. I’ll hold it for you.”


    Ethan nced down at his outfit–dress shirt and tailored cks beneath the coat. “Thank you,” he said, slipping the expensive garment off his shoulders and handing it to me.


    As Scorpio’s men approached, Ethan rolled up his sleeves with methodical precision. His posture changed subtly— shoulders rxed, weight bnced perfectly on the balls of his feet. The transformation was fascinating to watch.


    The first attacker lunged forward with a knife. Ethan moved with startling speed, redirecting the man’s momentum and sending him crashing into two others. What followed was nothing short of impressive. Ethan’s movements were economical, precise, and devastatingly effective. He wasn’t just fighting–he was dismantling the opposition with


    surgical precision.


    I found myself genuinely enjoying the show. This wasn’t the careful businessman I’de to know–this was someone else entirely. His skill level was far beyond what I’d expected, likely on par with Night’s abilities. Each


    strike was calcted, each defensive maneuver wless.


    When thest man fell, Ethan turned back to me, barely winded. His normally perfect hair was slightly disheveled, a thin sheen <b>of </b>sweat on his brow the only indication of exertion.


    “You’re full of surprises, Mr. Haxton,” I said, unable to keep the appreciation from my voice.


    “Had enough?” <b>he </b>asked, straightening his cuffs. “Or should we wait? I’m sure more wille soon.”


    “Next time,” I replied. “There’s no shortage of fights around here.”


    He nodded, taking his coat back from my hands. Our fingers brushed briefly during the exchange<b>, </b>and I <b>noticed </b><b>his </b>lingered a moment longer than necessary.


    8:20 Thu, Sep <b>25 </b>


    97


    We reached my temporary lodgings just before midnight. The building was a weathered two–story wooden structure that had seen better days decades ago. Night appeared at an upstairs window almost immediately, his silhouette unmistakable even in the darkness. Secondster, he emerged from the front door.


    “Baby,” Night called out, his ent thicker than usual as he approached. His eyes narrowed when theynded on Ethan. “I thought you were just going for a walk. Did you walk all the way back to America and return?”


    “Ran into him on the way,” I replied simply.


    Night snorted. “Right. Like I’d believe that.” He ced a possessive hand on my shoulder. “It’ste, baby. You should


    rest.”


    As Night steered me toward the door, I felt an impulse to look back at Ethan. Night sensed it, gently but firmly turning my face forward. “Don’t worry about him, sweetheart,” he murmured. Through the window, I could see Chris watching the scene with amusement.


    Outside, Ethan remained standing in the cool night air. I watched from my second–floor window as he studied our rundown hideout, his expression thoughtful. He seemed to be weighing something in his mind.


    I tapped on the ss<b>, </b>catching his attention. When he looked up, I motioned for him toe inside.


    Minutester, Ethan stood awkwardly in my small room as I locked the door behind him.


    “Amodations are scarce around here,” I exined. “This is all we’ve got. You’ll have to make do.”


    Ethan’s voice dropped to a lower register, slightly rough around the edges, “Is this… appropriate?”


    I shrugged, unmoved by his concern. “We’ve shared a room before,” I reminded him, thinking of our previous encounters. “It’s not a big deal,”


    The tension in his shoulders remained, but he nodded, epting the situation.


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