KEIFER POV
The London air hit me like a wall of ice the moment we stepped off the private jet. It was gray, miserable, and smelled like old money and secrets—everything I had tried to escape.
But I wasn't here to run anymore. I was here to finish it.
Keigan walked beside me, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. Even though he's my younger brother, he has this annoying way of looking at me like he's the one holding all the cards. He's seen the way I've been acting since we left the Philippines—staring at my phone, checking the GPS tracker on Jay's house, and barely saying a word.
"So, after this whole mess, you're gonna talk to Jay-Jay, right?" Keigan asked, his voice cutting through the sound of the wind on the tarmac.
I didn't answer immediately. I reached into my pocket and felt the cool metal of my phone. No texts from her. No cussing. Just silence. It felt like my lungs were being squeezed.
"I have to," I said shortly, my jaw tight. "I didn't leave her just to lose her."
Keigan let out a dry snort, stepping into the waiting black car. "You better. Because if you don't, someone else is going to fill the space you left behind. And honestly, Kuya? You looked pathetic at the airport. You look like a man who left his soul in a dusty music room."
I followed him into the car, slamming the door hard enough to make the driver flinch. "Shut up, Keigan."
"I'm serious," he leaned back, looking out the tinted window at the passing London streets. "You made her cry. You lied to her. You're playing 'mysterious texter' while she's out there thinking you're just another asshole who used her. If you don't fix it when we get back, I might just have to help her move to NYC myself."
My eyes snapped to his, flashing with a warning. The 'demon' didn't like that joke. Not even from him.
"She's not moving," I hissed. "And I'm going to tell her everything. Once our father is handled and she's no longer a target."
"You better," Keigan said one last time, turning his head away.
(IN THIS STORY KEIGAN LIKES JAY JAY)
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KEIFER POV
One week. It felt like a goddamn eternity.
Every day in London was a battle of wills with my father, but my mind was never truly in the room. It was miles away, back in the Philippines, trailing after a girl who has my heart.
I had Section E on high alert. If a single hair on her head was touched, I wanted heads to roll.
The news from Yuri this morning had been the highlight of my trip. Jay-Jay didn't just walk away from the engagement; she scorched the earth behind her. The Hanamitchis were spiraling toward bankruptcy.
I smirked, staring out at the rainy London skyline. That's my girl. No more rooster. No more forced smiles. She was tearing down an empire with her own two hands while I was trying to dismantle mine.
Tomorrow was my birthday. A day I usually loathed because it was nothing but a networking event for my family "business" associates. I was looking over the guest list, my eyes scanning names I didn't care about, when Keigan sauntered into the office.
"Kuya," he said, leaning against the doorframe with a look that told me he was about to drop a bomb. "Jay is coming to your birthday party to represent the Marianos."
I froze. The tablet in my hand nearly slipped.
"What?" I asked, my voice dropping an octave.
The smile I had for Jay was sharp, but the news about the elders turned it into something lethal.
"I don't know, Kuya," Keigan continued, his voice dropping all traces of humor. "But they're trying to stop the inheritance from getting to you. I think they're about to do something. Watch out."
My grip on the edge of the desk tightened. I knew the elders were snakes, but for them to move now—when the Mariano twins were about to land in the middle of this mess—was a recipe for a bloodbath. They wanted to hit me where it hurt, and right now, my biggest vulnerability was a girl with a fierce temper
"You take care of Keiran," I told Keigan, my voice low and authoritative. "Make sure when that monster—our father—comes, Keiran is around you or the bodyguards. I won't have them using our youngest brother as leverage."
Keigan nodded, his expression grim. He knew the stakes. In the Watson family, a birthday party wasn't just a celebration; it was a political minefield.
When Keigan left, I stood by the window, watching the rain wash over the London streets. The "demon" was clawing at the inside of my chest. If those old men thought they could block my inheritance or use Jay to get to me, they were about to find out why I was the one feared in Section E.
I pulled out the burner phone, my mind still racing with thoughts of her.
To FutureMrs.Watson: Coming back to the Philippines soon.
Her reply was almost instantaneous, as if she were already holding her phone, waiting for a sign.
From FutureMrs.Watson: So you're not in the Philippines right now?
The question was a trap I didn't even see. Without thinking, my muscle memory took over. My thumbs moved on autopilot, typing the one word that has always been reserved for her.
To FutureMrs.Watson: Obviously, Wifey.
My heart nearly stopped the second I hit send. I stared at the screen, a cold sweat breaking out on my neck. I tried to tap 'delete,' but the 'Seen' receipt flashed before I could even blink.
Shit.
She saw it. She saw the word that only one person in the world calls her. The word that screams "Keifer Watson."
The silence that followed was deafening. No bubbles, no typing notification, just a brutal, lingering silence. Does she know? Did I just blow months of secrets with one impulsive word? My chest tightened with a mix of dread and frustration.
God, why am I like this?
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KEIFER POV
It was finally here. My birthday. The day this entire London nightmare was supposed to reach its tipping point.
I stood in the grand hallway of the estate, adjusting the cuffs of my suit. My eyes kept darting toward the entrance, my heart hammering a rhythm I couldn't control. Somewhere out there, a car was bringing Jay-Jay to me. I was a nervous wreck, haunted by that "Wifey" text from last night, wondering if she'd walk in here ready to kiss me or kill me.
"Keifer."
The voice was like sandpaper on glass. I turned, my expression instantly hardening into the cold, dead mask of a Watson.
The Elders.
God, I hated these motherfuckers. All five of them were standing there like vultures waiting for a carcass to rot—all except for Uncle Keir. He was the youngest of the lot and the only one who didn't look like he was plotting my assassination every time I turned my back. He gave me a subtle, warning glance, but the others were already closing in.
"What do you want?" I asked, my voice dropping into that dangerous tone that usually made people back away.
"Nothing," one of them drawled, a sickly smirk playing on his wrinkled face. "We just want you to meet someone."
"I'm busy," I snapped, my eyes flicking back to the door.
"She's traveled quite a long way to see you," another elder added. "She works at our company now. A very bright girl."
They stepped aside, and a girl walked into the light.
My blood turned to ice.
What the fuck?
I knew that face. I didn't just know it; I remembered the chaos it caused. Ion. Angelo's ex-girlfriend. The one who had vanished after the mess back home. Why the hell was she here? And why was she working for the Watson elders?
"Meet Ion," they said, their eyes gleaming with a hidden agenda. "She was very eager to meet the birthday boy."
Ion looked at me with a practiced, shy smile that didn't reach her eyes. I felt a surge of pure fury.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" I hissed at Ion, ignoring the fact that she was supposed to be a 'guest.'
"Keifer," the eldest Elder warned, his voice a sharp blade.
I rolled my eyes, not even trying to hide my contempt. These old men were playing chess with my life, and Ion was just a pawn they'd dragged from the Philippines to clog up the board.
"Be ready to lose that girl," the Elder whispered as he leaned in, his eyes darting toward the open doors. "We know she's your pulse, Keifer. And a man with a pulse is a man we can control."
I wanted to kill that motherfucker right now. I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and show him exactly how much 'pulse' I had left. But I had to hold back. Not yet. The inheritance was the goal. If I snapped now, I'd lose the power to protect her.
"Which girl are you talking about?" I asked, my voice flat, devoid of any emotion. I had to play this perfectly. If I showed even a flicker of panic, I was handing them the roadmap to my soul.
"That Jasper Jean," one of them drawled, rolling her name off his tongue like it was something he could own.
My vision went white for a split second. Hearing her name—come out of that vulture's mouth made my skin crawl. I wanted to reach out and rip the tongue from his throat. I wanted to make sure they never dared to speak of her again. But I forced my hands to remain steady at my sides, my knuckles white as I gripped my own strength. I had to control it. If I lost it now, I was confirming it: She is the target. She is the weakness.
I kept my mask cold, my eyes unblinking. "I don't know who that is. You're wasting my time with irrelevant names."
The Elder chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. "Is that so? We'll see how long that indifference lasts."
Then, a familiar voice cut through the tension of the hall.
"Keifer."
I turned. Standing there was Jare.
He looked sharp in a suit, but there was a weariness in his eyes that hadn't been there when he first arrived at school. Unlike Jay, I'd been in constant contact with him. I'd explained everything—the elders, the threat from my father, and why I had to play the villain and the 'stalker' just to keep Jay's name out of the Watson ledgers for a little longer.
Jare seemed to understand. He knew what it was like to carry the weight of a family name. He looked like a man who'd also been through the ringer lately
He stepped forward, his eyes flicking briefly to Ion with a look of recognition and immediate suspicion. He knew who she was. He knew the trouble she carried.
"You're late," I said, my voice tight.
"The flight was long, and Jay... well, Jay wasn't exactly 'excited' to come to your lion's den," Jare replied, stepping closer so the elders couldn't overhear. He looked me dead in the eye. "She's right behind me. If you let that girl,"—he gestured vaguely toward Ion—"anywhere near my sister tonight, I won't wait for the elders to finish you. I'll do it myself."
"I know," I muttered.
My heart began to race. The car was empty. That meant she was already stepping onto the porch. My Jay-Jay.
"She's wearing the dress you sent," Jare added, a flicker of a smirk appearing on his tired face. "Try not to drool."
The air left my lungs. I'd sent that dress anonymously, a silent tribute to her beauty that I never thought I'd actually get to witness. But the smirk on Jare's face vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a heavy, somber shadow.
"How long, Keifer?" Jare asked, his voice dropping to a low, urgent whisper. "Explain it to her soon. I can't stand seeing her like this. She smiles, but inside she's breaking apart. I know it's the same for you, but please... explain before you really lose her."
The guilt was a physical weight, crushing my chest. "I know," I rasped, my voice sounding raw even to my own ears. "I just need more time. The Elders, my father... it's not safe yet."
"Keifer, her trauma is surfacing again," Jare pressured, his eyes boring into mine. "If anything, it's getting worse."
I nodded, my jaw aching from how hard I was clenching it. Every word felt like a serrated blade across my skin.
"It triggered again yesterday night," Jare explained, his tone hauntingly quiet. "Luckily, I was there."
My heart hammered against my ribs—half out of gratitude that Jare was there, half out of pure, localized rage that I was the reason Jay-Jay was spiraling. I should have been the one pulling her back. I shouldn't have left her in the dark.
"Where is she now?" I asked, my voice growing thick with a need I couldn't suppress any longer.
"Outside," Jare said, stepping back to let me pass.
I moved. I didn't care who saw me or which Elder was watching. I stepped out onto the terrace, and there she was.
Damn, this woman.
She was standing near the stone railing, casually putting on lip gloss as if she hadn't just upended my entire universe. The moonlight caught the deep emerald silk of the dress I'd sent—the one that hugged every curve of her body, making her look like a goddess carved from shadow and light. I didn't even think she knew it was from me, but seeing her in it... it made my blood run hot. She looked devastatingly beautiful. Sexy, sharp, and entirely too much for my sanity.
I didn't give her a second to think. I didn't give her a chance to start a shouting match or put up that wall she uses to stay safe.
I lunged forward and pinned her against the cold stone wall, my body crowding hers until there wasn't an inch of air between us. I wanted her to feel the heat she caused in me, the sheer, frantic desperation I'd been hiding for a week.
I looked down at her, my breath hitching as our eyes locked. "Wifey," I growled, the word finally out in the open, "you're going to be the death of me."
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Chapter goal: 25+ comments 😭💙
I'm only uploading in this book today. The next few chapters are going to be emotional, so I want to take my time writing them 😭✨
I hope you guys understand —
I'll try to update my other books too, but it might not be possible today.
BTW… the next chapter is already READY 👀🔥