Badass in Disguise (Shadow) novel Chapter 43

Jade’s POV:

“We are going to Grand Plaza Hotel,” Emily announced, smoothing down her brand new pink and white golf outfit. “Not some community center. You can’t wear that.”

I watched my sister’s reflection in the hallway mirror as she adjusted her visor with manicured fingers. Her disgust was directed at Max, who stood awkwardly in the doorway wearing a plain gray t-shirt and black athletic pants.

“What’s wrong with this?” Max asked, his voice quiet but defiant.

Emily rolled her eyes. “It’s the most exclusive hotel in Cloud City. People who matter go there.” She flicked his sleeve with disdain. “This discount rack garbage will embarrass all of us.”

I felt my jaw tighten. “Leave him alone.”

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“Do you know how much it costs to play golf there?” Emily continued, ignoring me. “I looked it up- at least two hundred dollars per person, and you need reservations weeks in advance.”

Frank appeared in the hallway, wearing what was clearly his only decent outfit–a navy blazer with slightly worn elbows paired with khaki pants that had been pressed with military precision.

“The Uber will be here in five minutes,” he announced, tugging nervously at his collar. “Everyone

ready?”

Linda emerged from the bedroom, her face caked with makeup and wearing a floral print outfit that screamed “trying too hard.”

The six–person Uber arrived–a minivan driven by a middle–aged man with tired eyes who barely acknowledged us as we piled in. Emily immediately commandeered the conversation with Linda.

“The indoor golf facility is world–class,” Emily gushed. “They host PGA professionals there.”

I tuned them out, staring out the window. Max nudged me, holding out his phone.

“Jade, look at this,” he whispered.

I glanced at the screen. It was my interview clip from after the SATs, now with hundreds of thousands of comments beneath it. Most were predictably hostile: “Who does this bitch think she

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is?” “Can’t wait to see her fail!” “Another entitled American thinking she’s better than everyone.”

“You could take this down,” Max suggested quietly. “You have the skills.”

I shrugged. “Why bother? Let them waste their energy.”

The Grand Plaza Hotel rose before us. The circular driveway was lined with luxury vehicles-

Mercedes, BMWs, the occasional Bentley.

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“Oh my God,” Emily breathed, phone already out and recording. “This is so going on my Instagram.”

As we approached the entrance, a uniformed doorman stepped forward.

“Do you have a reservation, sir?” he asked, then his eyes widened in recognition as he looked at Max

and me. “Welcome to the Grand Plaza.”

Frank fumbled with his wallet, clearly preparing to tip. “Uh, yes, we’re here to meet Patrick Morgan.

And for the, uh, golf tee time.”

The doorman waved away the crumpled bills. “No need, sir. Mr. Patrick Morgan’s party is in the Fairway Lounge on level three. Your tee time is scheduled for 9 PM.”

Author’s POV:

As the Morgan family entered the lobby, a sleek black Range Rover pulled up, followed by a Mercedes GLS. The doors opened, Orion Miller stepped out with his father–a tall, distinguished man with salt- and–pepper hair and the confident bearing of someone accustomed to authority.

From the Mercedes emerged Robert Williams and his daughter Ashley, both dressed in expensive golf attire. Ashley’s blonde hair was pulled back in a perfect ponytail, her outfit clearly chosen to highlight her athletic figure. Her eyes locked on Orion, her smile hopeful but ignored.

“Tyler! Great to see you,” Robert called out, his voice carrying across the driveway. “Where is Felix?”

“Minor crisis at city hall,” Mr. Miller replied. “He’ll join us later.”

Robert nodded toward Orion. “How’s the college search going?”

“Princeton’s still my top choice,” Orion replied.

Ashley’s smile remained fixed, but her eyes darkened at the mention of Princeton. Once her own

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dream school, now likely out of reach. The school drama Jade had caused last month had thrown off her entire study schedule right before the SATs, not to mention how the resulting chaos had prevented her from securing a crucial recommendation letter.

The Fairway Lounge was elegantly appointed with dark wood, leather chairs, and golf memorabilia displayed in glass cases. This pre–game gathering area served as a meeting point for golfers before

their tee times.

Patrick Morgan, Frank’s little brother, stood near the bar examining an expensive putter, easy to spot in his lime green golf shirt and white pants. He was shorter than Joe but carried himself with the confidence of someone who believed money equaled worth.

“Top of the line, Patrick!” Joe called out, his voice carrying a forced joviality that didn’t reach his eyes. “Scotty Cameron, right? Must have set you back at least five hundred.”

Patrick nodded with self–satisfaction. “Custom fitted last week. Makes all the difference.”

Nancy, a thin woman with over–processed blonde hair and a permanent look of judgment,

immediately zeroed in on Linda’s outfit. “Oh, Linda. There’s a dress code, you know”

Linda’s smile faltered. “It’s activewear. For golf.”

“If you say so,” Nancy sniffed.

“Jade? Is that you? I barely recognized you! You’ve lost so much weight!” Nancy stared at Jade for

several seconds before recognition dawned.

Every eye turned to examine Jade. She kept her face neutral.

“My goodness,” Nancy added, looking between the sisters, “you actually have quite stunning features now that we can see them. Even prettier than Emily, I’d say.”

Emily’s smile froze in place, a flash of fury darkening her eyes for just a moment before she forced a

cheerful expression.

“Emily!” Nancy continued, her voice warming considerably. “Don’t you look adorable! That outfit is

perfect for golf.”

Emily preened, determined not to show how much the comparison had stung. “Thanks, Aunt Nancy, I’ve been practicing my swing too.”

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