Badass in Disguise (Shadow) novel Chapter 128

Ethan Haxton descended in the glass elevator of the luxury Westfield Mall, watching as October sunlight streamed through the skylights. Connor followed behind, arms loaded with designer shopping bags. Halloween decorations hung from every available surface–elaborate paper skeletons dangled from the ceiling, carved pumpkins lined the walkways, and fake cobwebs stretched across storefront displays.

“Sir, do we need anything else?” Connor asked, adjusting his grip on the packages.

Ethan checked his watch. “That should cover it. We’ll head to-”

A commotion from below caught his attention. As the elevator doors opened, he heard a familiar voice rising above the typical mall chatter. Ethan’s eyes narrowed, scanning the ground floor until he spotted the source.

Near the high–end wine boutique, a crowd had gathered around Max Morgan and another teenager. Between them and an agitated store employee lay dozens of shattered wine bottles, dark red liquid spreading across the polished

marble floor.

“We barely touched it!” Max’s friend insisted, pushing his glasses up his nose. “The whole display just collapsed!”

The boutique employee–a middle–aged man with a pretentious bow tie–jabbed his finger at the boys. “These Halloween special reserve bottles were perfectly secure until you two came along! Each costs over $300, and you’re

paying for every single one!”

Max stood his ground despite his slight limp. “That’s physically impossible. The center of gravity on that display was too high, and the base too narrow. Anyone with basic understanding of structural mechanics would see the design

flaw.”

Several onlookers, some wearing early Halloween masks, murmured in agreement.

‘Maybe they should pay half,” suggested a woman clutching shopping bags. “Seems fair.”

“Absolutely not!” the employee snapped. “Full price or I’m calling security!”

Ethan moved through the crowd with practiced ease, Connor following in his wake. “Max?”

Max looked up, surprise crossing his face. “Mr. Haxton?”

The employee’s demeanor shifted subtly as he registered Ethan’s tailored suit and commanding presence.

“What happened here?” Ethan asked, his voice level but authoritative.

Max gestured to the toppled display. “Derek bumped the edge of the stand–barely–and the whole thing collapsed. The design was fundamentally unsound. A slight touch shouldn’t cause catastrophic failure.”

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Chapter 128

Ethan turned to Connor. “Get the general manager. Now.”

Connor nodded and stepped away, phone already at his ear.

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“Look, I don’t know who you are,” the employee began, though his voice had lost much of its edge, “but these boys-”

“These young men,” Ethan interrupted, “are explaining a physics problem that I suggest you listen to carefully. Any display holding merchandise worth thousands should be stable enough to withstand a casual touch.”

Within minutes, a balding man in an ill–fitting suit came rushing through the crowd, eyes widening as he spotted

Ethan.

“Mr. Haxton! I had no idea you were visiting our establishment today,” the manager gushed, extending his hand.

Ethan ignored the offered hand. “Your wine boutique has an interesting approach to customer safety. These young men accidentally knocked over an improperly secured display, and your employee is demanding full payment rather than addressing the hazard.”

The manager’s face paled. “I… I’m sure we can resolve this amicably-”

“The first step,” Ethan cut in, “is an apology to these customers.”

“But sir, the wine-” the employee protested.

“Is insured,” Ethan finished for him. “As is the potential lawsuit for negligent display practices that could have injured someone.” His voice remained calm, but the threat was unmistakable.

The manager nodded frantically. “Of course, of course. We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience and for our employee’s behavior.” He shot a withering look at the wine clerk. “Please consider your visit to our establishment completely on the house.”

Max and his friend looked amazed.

“Max,” Ethan said, turning away from the flustered manager, “let’s get out of here. Connor will handle the rest.”

As they walked away from the scene, Derek whispered to Max, “Dude, who is that guy?”

Max shrugged slightly, looking uncomfortable.

I came to bring you some supplies,” Ethan explained once they were away from the crowd. “I was planning to drop them at your school later.”

Connor caught up with them, holding two gift cards. “The manager insisted,” he said, handing them over. “Store credit for the inconvenience.”

Max stared at the cards, then tried to hand his back. “I can’t accept this. It wouldn’t be right.”

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Ethan suppressed a smile. “It wasn’t my idea, but I understand your principles. How about lunch before I take you back to school?”

Derek nodded enthusiastically before Max could respond.

As they walked toward the escalator, Max pulled out his phone. “Mr. Haxton, I appreciate the shopping bags too, but I can’t accept gifts from you either.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Jade asked me to get you some things.”

Max’s skeptical expression showed he wasn’t buying it. He typed a quick text message. Within seconds, his phone

chimed with a response. Looking slightly surprised, Max read the message.

“She says to take the stuff,” Max said, a hint of reluctance still in his voice.

Ethan managed to hide his relief. He hadn’t actually discussed this with Jade, but apparently she wasn’t opposed to him helping her brother.

The restaurant on the top floor featured tasteful Halloween décor–elegant carved pumpkins and black silk drapery rather than the gaudy commercial decorations in the main mall. A hostess led them to a private corner booth, where Ethan ordered drinks for everyone.

“How’s the new school working out?” Ethan asked after they’d ordered food.

Max shrugged. “It’s fine. The teachers are good.”

“And the other students? They treating you well?”

“Yes, they are,” Max said.

An awkward silence fell as the waitress brought their drinks. Max seemed to be studying Ethan, as if trying to solve a particularly complex equation.

“You know,” Ethan said casually, “you always call me Mr. Haxton. That feels too formal.”

“What should I call you?” Max asked,

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