Jade’s POV:
I walked over to Ethan, who promptly stood up from his seat in the airport lounge. Connor sat nearby, fingers flying over hisptop keyboard. I raised an eyebrow at the woman standing in front of Ethan, her designer outfit and perfectly styled hair screaming “I’m avable and interested.”
“Your friend?” I asked, nodding toward her.
Ethan’s expression cooled instantly. “Never seen her before.”
Connor nced up from hisptop. “Not an acquaintance of ours, no.”
The woman’s confident smile faltered as she awkwardly pulled back the ass she’d been about to nt in the seat
next to Ethan. She recovered quickly, shing a practiced smile.
*This must be your sister,” she said, her eyes sweeping over me. “She’s gorgeous. Good genes in your family.”
Ethan’s face hardened further, green eyes turning frosty. Behind us, more than a dozen security personnel who had been seated discreetly throughout the lounge simultaneously rose to their feet.
The woman noticed, her smile vanishingpletely as she backed away. “Sorry to disturb you,” she muttered before hurrying off.
I dropped into the seat she’d been eyeing. “You’re quite the people ma, aren’t you?”
Ethan sat back down, his expression softening as he looked at me. “It just makes me seem approachable and easy.”
“Maybe she was exceptional,” I said, watching his reaction. “She was beautiful, at least.”
His eyes locked onto mine, intense and unwavering. “No matter how beautiful, it depends on who’s looking.”
The temperature between us seemed to rise by several degrees. I broke eye contact first, scanning the crowded terminal. Holiday travelers packed every avable space, their faces a mixture of excitement and exhaustion. Christmas decorations hung from the ceiling oversized ornaments and twinkling lights creating a festive atmosphere that felt alien to me,
–
My phone vibrated in my pocket, offering a wee distraction. I pulled it out to see Max’s face filling the screen
for a video call.
<b>“</b><b>Hey</b>,” I answered, unable to keep the warmth from my voice.
“Jade!” Max’s <b>face </b>lit up, his features animated with excitement. “When are youing home? Will you be here for Christmas<b>?</b><b>” </b>
<b>8:28 </b><b>Thu</b><b>, </b><b>Sep 25 </b>
“I’m at the airport now. Should be back at Princeton tonight.”
Max squinted, leaning closer to his screen. “Is that Mr. Haxton with you?”
I angled the phone so Ethan was visible. He smiled and gave a small wave. “Hello, Max.”
“Whoa!” Max’s eyes widened. “Are you guys spending Christmas together?”
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Ethan leaned closer to my phone. “Only if our flight gets dyed and we’re stuck here. But we should make it back
in time.”
Our flight wasn’t dyed. Wended in Princeton right on schedule, and I found myself standing with Ethan near the baggage im. The airport was a sea of holiday travelers, reuniting families embracing while exhausted airline
staff directed traffic.
“The invitation to Christmas dinner still stands,” Ethan said, his voice low enough that only I could hear it. “My
parents would love to thank you properly for what you did for my grandfather.”
“I’ll pass,” I replied. “But thanks.”
He looked disappointed but nodded. An older man in a crisp uniform approached <b>us</b>, bowing slightly to Ethan.
“Wee back, sir. The car is ready.”
Ethan turned to the man. “Bertram, do you have what I asked for?”
“Yes, sir.” Bertram produced two elegant ck envelopes with gold embossing – the Haxton family crest gleaming
under the fluorescent lights.
Ethan handed them to me. “Gift cards for you and Max. Any Haxton property worldwide–hotels, restaurants, spas.
Valid forever, no limit.”
I stared at the cards, feeling their weight.
‘Just a small thank you. Take one for Max too.”
I slipped them into my pocket, “Thanks.”
“Bertram will drive you home,” Ethan said.
“Not necessary. I can get a-”
“I <b>have </b>Connor,” he interrupted.
Forty minutester, Bertram pulled up to my suburban home. I thanked him and <b>got </b>out<b>, </b>grabbing <b>my </b><b>bag </b><b>from </b>the trunk. <b>As </b>I approached the house, I noticed something odd–someone’s ass was sticking up in <b>the </b>air <b>as </b>they pressed
2
<b>8:28 </b><b>Thu</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>25 </b>
their <b>face </b>against my living room window, peering inside.
:
I walked over and kicked the person squarely in the backside.
The figure yelped, face smacking into the ss before he spun around<b>, </b>clutching his nose. “What the fu-” Chase Astor’s outrage turned to recognition. “Jade! Jesus Christ, I think you broke my nose!”
“What are you doing creeping around my house?” I demanded.
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“Creeping? I’ve been trying to reach you for months!” Chase dabbed at his nose, checking for blood. “Where have you been? Vacation? I asked Sterling, and he said he hadn’t seen you around Cloud City.”
“Vacation,” I confirmed.
“You went on vacation without me?” Chase looked genuinely hurt. “I’m excellent at booking hotels, arranging transportation, taking photos, nning itineraries—”
“Ethan handled all that.”
Chase froze, his hand still on his nose. “What? You went with Mr. Haxton?”
I stepped around him to unlock my door. “Why are you at my house?”
“To keep youpany for Christmas, obviously!” He followed me inside, looking around at the sparse furnishings. “Your stepmother and stepsister are terrible people, so you wouldn’t want to spend the holiday with them. And the Sullivans are definitely out of the question after what happened with Catherine.”
He plopped down on my couch. “Come to our house for Christmas dinner! My parents would love to have you. Dad’s been asking about you, actually. He thinks you’re a ‘fascinating youngdy‘ – his exact words.”
‘I already turned down Ethan’s invitation. Why would I ept yours<b>?</b><b>” </b>
Chase’s expression fell like I’d kicked his puppy. “Because we’re friends? Because it’s Christmas and no one should be alone? Because my mom makes amazing roast turkey with cranberry stuffing?<b>” </b>
My phone buzzed with a text message. I read it quickly, then looked up at Chase. “Are you in a hurry to get home?”
“Not at all. Why?”
“Want to pick up two people from the airport for me?”
Chase’s eyes immediately lit up with interest, his disappointment forgotten. “Absolutely! Who am I picking <b>up</b><b>? </b><b>More </b>mysterious friends of <b>yours</b>? Someone dangerous? Someone famous<b>?</b><b>” </b>He wiggled his <b>eyebrows </b><b>suggestively</b>.
I handed him the details<b>. </b>“You’ll see when you get there.”