Badass in Disguise (Shadow) novel Chapter 8

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Jade’s POV:

Four men converged on me from the black SUV, moving with practiced coordination that screamed “hired muscle.” The tall, skinny one in front flashed a small knife, its blade catching the morning light. The other three spread out in a classic containment formation—two average builds flanking me while a hulking giant blocked my potential escape route.

I almost laughed. After years of facing elite assassins and special forces operatives, these street thugs might as well have been moving in slow motion. Their amateur formation had at least three exploitable weaknesses I could spot immediately.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” Skinny said, twirling his knife with what he probably thought was intimidating skill. “We just want to have a little fun. Make you look nice for social media.”

I sighed, shifting my weight slightly to better distribute my center of gravity. “Let me guess—Ashley Williams sent you?”

Their momentary surprise flickered across their faces—a split-second widening of eyes, a hesitation in their stance. All the confirmation I needed.

The muscleman cracked his knuckles, a theatrical gesture that would have given any trained fighter enough time to take him down twice. “Just stand still and this won’t hurt… much.”

I swung my backpack in one fluid motion, the weight of my textbooks connecting perfectly with Skinny’s wrist. The knife clattered to the pavement as he yelped in pain, clutching his hand. Without pausing, I pivoted on my left foot, letting the two average builds lunge past me. Their momentum carried them straight into each other with a satisfying thud of colliding bodies and muffled curses.

The giant charged like a freight train, his footfalls heavy on the pavement. I simply waited until the last second before stepping aside and extending my foot at precisely the right angle. His own weight and speed became his downfall—literally. I helped his trajectory with a precise palm strike between his shoulder blades, sending him face-first into the dirt. His massive body hit the ground with a thud that vibrated through the sidewalk.

The entire encounter lasted maybe fifteen seconds. I hadn’t even broken a sweat or disturbed my ponytail.

“Jesus Christ,” one of them groaned from the ground, spitting dirt. “Who the fuck is this girl?”

“Your worst nightmare if you don’t cooperate,” I replied, kneeling beside Skinny, who was cradling his wrist. “Phone. Now.”

He hesitated, eyes darting between me and his fallen comrades until I applied gentle pressure to his injured joint. The phone appeared magically in his other hand. I scrolled through his messages, finding exactly what I needed—a Venmo transaction from Ashley Williams for $500.

“Perfect,” I murmured, switching to video mode. I aimed the camera at them, making sure to capture all four in various states of disarray. “Tell me who hired you and what she wanted you to do.”

“Fuck you,” Skinny spat, attempting to salvage some dignity.

I pressed my thumb into the nerve cluster at his wrist. His face contorted in agony, a strangled sound escaping his throat.

“Ashley Williams,” he gasped, the words tumbling out. “From Cloud City High. Paid us five hundred to rough you up and record it. Said to make you cry and tear your clothes. Wanted us to humiliate you on video.”

I nodded, continuing to record as the others, seeing their leader break, quickly confirmed his story with added details about Ashley’s specific instructions. When I had enough, I stood up and pocketed the phone.

“Next time, consider a career change. You’re terrible at this one.”

With practiced efficiency, I trimmed the footage, added Ashley’s payment screenshots, and enhanced the audio where they detailed her instructions. I uploaded it to an anonymous account with the title: “Cloud City High’s Ashley Williams: Who She Really Is.”