Adrian Grayson limped through the dark alley, his side stinging from a fresh gash. Blood seeped through his suit, but he barely noticed. His only focus was on getting home, grabbing a tub of triple fudge ice cream, and catching up on SpongeBob. It had been one hell of a night—he’d just fought off a bunch of Arachnid goons, and he was ready for some downtime. Of course, Jade Steele had to ruin that. Her voice crackled through the comms, sharp and commanding. “Adrian, get your sorry ass to the lab. Now.” He scowled at the thought of her. Jade, in her manual wheelchair, had the nerve to order him around. She’d been a pain ever since she took on the role of tech support and strategist. True, she was brilliant, but her sassy, condescending attitude grated on him like sandpaper. He pushed through the door of a corner store, barely acknowledging the clerk as he grabbed a pint of ice cream and slapped a crumpled bill on the counter. The clerk mumbled a thank you, but Adrian didn’t care. All he wanted was to indulge in the sweet, creamy relief that awaited him. As he made his way to Jade’s lab, he could already picture the scene: her smirking in that damn wheelchair, waiting for him to arrive. She was always so urgent, so intense. It was like she forgot that he had other things to do besides responding to her every whim. Finally, he reached the hidden door leading to her lab. The steel hissed open as he stepped inside, his ice cream in hand, his irritation palpable. Jade was already there, her eyes narrowing as she took in his disheveled appearance. “Adrian,” she drawled, her voice laced with sarcasm, “I see you’ve finally decided to grace me with your presence. Did you stop for ice cream on the way? How considerate.” He bit back a retort, his jaw clenching. He was too tired for their usual back-and-forth. All he wanted was to drop off whatever mess Jade had gotten herself into and get back to his much-needed ice cream and TV. But Jade’s glare told him this was going to be anything but quick. Another night of bicke