Badass in Disguise (Shadow) novel Chapter 68

Chapter 68

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“Would you like a drink?” I asked, walking over to him. “Oh, shit. I forgot you don’t drink.”

Ethan’s lips curved into a slight smile. “Morgan’s wine? I think I’ll make an exception.”

I raised an eyebrow, pouring us each a glass. The rich burgundy liquid swirled in the crystal, catching the light. I raised my glass to his with a soft clink, then knocked it back in one smooth motion, feeling the warmth slide down my throat. I could feel Ethan’s gaze following the movement, studying

1. me.

“I’ll pour myself another,” I said, reaching for the bottle again. “Help yourself, Mr. Haxton. It’s on

me.”

I filled my glass and took a small sip before setting it down on the coffee table.

“I’ve got some work to catch up on upstairs. Make yourself comfortable.”

Ethan’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I thought we might have dinner together. After all, you did invite me

over.”

“Did I?” I smiled innocently. “I just invited you for a drink. Which you’ve had.”

He studied me for a moment, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “So I’m dismissed

already? That must be a record, even for you.”

“Don’t take it personally,” I said, already heading for the stairs. “The living room is all yours. Plenty more wine in the cabinet.”

“And here I was looking forward to our stimulating dinner conversation,” Ethan called after me, his

voice laced with dry humor.

I paused at the bottom of the staircase and glanced back over my shoulder. “Maybe next time, if you’re lucky.”

In my room, I was looking my computer when a knock interrupted me, I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Come in,” I called, quickly switching my screen to a harmless search page.

Ethan pushed the door open, holding an elegant black box. “Hope I’m not disturbing you, Miss

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Chapter 68

Morgan.”

“What’s up?” I asked, feigning casual indifference.

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He placed the box on the desk in front of me. “A small token of appreciation. I thought you might

find it useful.”

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I opened it to reveal a high–end microneedle skin regeneration system. This wasn’t the kind you’d

find in upscale department stores–this was professional–grade equipment used in top medical labs. I recognized it immediately as superior even to the multi–thousand dollar units I’d used at the

Morrison Pharmaceutical Research Center.

“This is…” I lifted the device, examining each component with practiced precision, testing the needle gauge and material quality. My fingers traced the titanium applicator, immediately recognizing the

precision engineering.

“Something I happened to acquire,” Ethan said simply, a hint of pride in his voice.

Bullshit. This kind of equipment doesn’t just fall into your lap. He must have pulled some serious

strings to get his hands on it. But I didn’t call him out.

“The precision on this is incredible,” I said, adjusting the needle depth settings. “The commercial

versions don’t even come close to this calibration.”

A flicker of interest crossed Ethan’s face. “You seem quite knowledgeable about medical equipment.”

I shrugged, realizing I’d revealed too much. “I’ve done my research. Skin care is serious business.”

“Indeed it is,” he replied, clearly not believing my casual explanation.

“Thanks, Haxton. Actually useful, unlike most gifts.”

He seemed satisfied with my response, nodding slightly before excusing himself and leaving my room. Once the door closed, I allowed myself a small smile.

That night, I sank into the luxurious bathtub, hot water enveloping my body. Steam rose around me as I reached for Ethan’s gift. The microneedle system felt cool in my hands as I activated it, the tiny needles extending with a soft mechanical hum.

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I began applying it to specific areas–my face, neck, shoulders. The sensation was familiar–a controlled burn as the microscopic needles penetrated the surface, delivering regenerative compounds directly where needed.

After about thirty minutes, a layer of metabolic byproduct appeared on my skin–evidence that the device was working as intended. I submerged myself completely, letting the warm water wash away the residue. When I resurfaced, an oily film floated on the water’s surface–toxins drawn out by the

treatment.

Rising from the bath, I wrapped myself in a plush towel and examined my reflection. Even after just one use, my skin glowed with renewed vitality. The high–grade equipment was already showing results–my complexion more luminous, the texture smoother. A small scar near my collarbone had already begun to fade.

Over the next few days, I used the skin regeneration system every evening. The results were remarkable–my skin became increasingly flawless, and my overall appearance took on a new dimension of vitality. The changes were subtle enough that most people wouldn’t notice immediately, but significant enough to create a cumulative effect.

I caught my reflection in the mirror on the fourth morning, surprised by the transformation. The skin around my eyes had tightened, the slight discoloration on my jawline had vanished, and there was a healthy radiance that hadn’t been there before. In my former life as Shadow, appearance had been merely functional–a tool, nothing more. But now, I found myself appreciating the aesthetic

improvement.

Ethan, however, noticed. Of course he did. Nothing escaped those calculating green eyes of his.

One morning when we crossed paths in the dining room, his gaze lingered on my face for several seconds longer than usual. Connor was there too, arranging security details, but even he paused momentarily, doing a subtle double–take.

“You look well, Miss Morgan,” Ethan commented. “Is it the wine?”

I laughed softly. “It’s your fancy skin system, Haxton. After using it for several nights, it’s not just improved metabolic processes and toxin elimination–the body contouring effects are particularly impressive.”

“The system shouldn’t work that quickly,” Ethan observed, his eyes narrowing slightly.

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“It does if you know how to maximize its effectiveness,” I replied. “Proper technique makes all the

difference.”

Ethan nodded slightly, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “I’m glad you’re finding it

beneficial.”

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Connor glanced between us, clearly confused by the technical nature of our conversation. He opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it and returned to his tablet.

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