JAY JAY POV
Okay, look. This was not how it was supposed to go down.
It started out innocent enough. Keiran and I were just trying to bake a simple cake, but then Keigan got dragged into the mess because Keiran wouldn't stop pestering him to help us. I should have known better. Mixing Keiran with any kind of powder is a recipe for a disaster.
That little troublemaker managed to knock over an entire bag of flour, and the second I caught my reflection in the oven door, a scream ripped out of my throat. I didn't look like a girl anymore—I looked like a literal ghost.
By the time Keifer and Uncle Keir walked in, the kitchen looked like a snowy wasteland. Flour was in my hair, on my eyelashes, and smeared across my dress.
"Jay Jay, we'll meet again soon," Uncle Keir said, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Hopefully next time under more... normal circumstances. Without the fancy dress, maybe?"
I forced a smile, trying to look as innocent as possible while shaking flour off my sleeves. "Of course, Uncle. Looking forward to it."
If only he knew the real reason I was wearing this dress.
It wasn't for the "aesthetic" or because I wanted to look like a lady for tea. I was wearing this high-collared thing specifically to hide the souvenirs that "snake" gave me last night. My neck was a canvas of hickeys, and Keifer was the one who had painted them there.
I shot a murderous glare at Keifer. He just stood there with this look of pure, dumbfounded confusion, like he had no idea why I was looking at him like I wanted to bury him in the flour.
Don't act innocent, you demon, I thought, grititng my teeth.
"Uncle! Ate wore the dress to cover her ma—"
My heart skipped a beat. My eyes widened as Keiran started to blab, his little voice echoing in the messy kitchen. Before he could finish that sentence, I lunged forward and slapped my hand over his mouth.
"To cover my... my pale skin!" I squeaked out, my face heating up faster than the oven. "The sun, you know? It's very harsh! Right, Keiran? Right?"
I gave Keiran a look that promised him no dessert for a month if he breathed another word.
Uncle Keir gave Keifer a final, knowing nod before heading out. The second the door closed behind him, Keifer didn't even glance my way. He just turned on his heel and disappeared into his room.
What an asshole, I thought, crossing my arms. Not even a 'good job for not burning the house down, Jay'?
A few minutes later, he strolled back into the kitchen. My heart did a stupid little flip, and I hated myself for it. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips.
"Kuya, we get it. You look good. You want Ate to eat you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but please—wear a shirt," Keiran chirped, rolling his eyes as he wiped flour off his nose.
I nearly choked on my own spit.
Beside him, Keigan actually chuckled. My jaw practically hit the flour-covered floor. Seeing Keigan show emotion was like seeing a shooting star—rare as hell. While Keiran was a walking disaster area of trouble, Keigan was usually the "mature" one, the stoic wall that held the family together. But even he couldn't help but laugh at his brother's lack of shame.
Keifer just chuckled, his deep voice vibrating through the room as he looked at the mess we'd made. "Wife, what were you three actually doing that led to this?"
"We were trying to bake," I said, looking down at my ruined dress. "And well… this is the result."
I couldn't stand the flour itching my skin anymore. "I'm going upstairs to change and then I'm going out to buy more flour. We are finishing that cake."
I turned and marched upstairs. I reached the room, slipped inside, and pushed the door shut—or at least, I thought I heard the click of the latch.
In my rush to get the sticky, floury fabric off my skin, I didn't waste a second. I unzipped the dress and let it pool at my feet. There I was, standing in just my bra and undies, finally feeling like I could breathe again.
"Jay."
The voice was low, raspy, and much closer than I expected.
I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat. Keifer was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his bare chest. He wasn't just looking at me; he was devouring me. His gaze was dark, intense, like he'd forgotten all about the cake and decided I was the only dessert he wanted.
My face went from white-flour pale to a deep, agonizing crimson in three seconds flat.
"Keifer! I thought I locked that!" I squeaked, reaching blindly for the discarded dress to cover myself.
He didn't move. He just let his eyes trail slowly—torturingly slowly—down my body. "You thought wrong, wife."
The air in the room suddenly felt a lot hotter than the kitchen had ever been.
He started walking toward me, his eyes dark with a hunger that made my knees weak. I instinctively took a step back, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
"Keifer..." I warned, but my voice lacked any real conviction.
"Jay Jay," he murmured. Just the way he said my name—low, rasping, and full of intent—sent a shiver straight down my spine.
"We had a deal!" I blurted out, my back finally hitting the cold surface of the wall. "No touching me until our wedding night. That was the agreement, Keifer."
He stopped, but only for a second. A smirk played on his lips, the kind of smirk that told me he didn't give a damn about rules right now.
"I thought that deal was off the table," he said, his voice dropping an octave.
"The other part of the deal," I reminded him, trying to keep my head clear even as he leaned into my personal space, "was that if you, Aries, Percy, and Yuri finally make up... then maybe you could have a little dessert before the wedding. But you haven't done that yet, so—"
Keifer didn't wait for me to finish. He didn't seem to care about Aries, the boys, or any of my self-imposed rules.
He lunged forward, his mouth crashing onto mine in a kiss that was deep, desperate, and completely overwhelming. I tried to resist for a split second, but the moment his heat radiated against my skin, I was a goner. I responded, my hands finding his bare shoulders as our tongues fought for dominance in a silent battle I was happy to lose.
His hands were everywhere, tracing the curves of my body with a territorial grip. When his palms slid down to the curve of my waist and squeezed, a sharp gasp escaped my lips. He didn't pull away; instead, he used that moment to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of me as he claimed my mouth as his own.
He moved from my lips to my jaw, then down to the sensitive skin of my neck and collarbone. I was lost in the haze of his touch, my head lolling back as he left a trail of fire across my skin. I didn't even realize we were moving. I was too busy drowning in the sensation of him, too busy feeling the way his heart beat against mine.
It wasn't until I heard the sudden hiss of water and felt a change in the air that I snapped back to reality.
I blinked, looking around through the steam. We weren't in the bedroom anymore. He had backed me straight into the bathroom, his hand reaching out to twist the handle.
The shower roared to life, the sound echoing against the tiles, but Keifer didn't look at the water. He was still looking at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered—and the only thing he intended to devour.
The steam was already starting to blur the edges of the room, making everything feel smaller, hotter, and way too intimate. My heart was thundering against my ribs, loud enough that I thought he could feel it through my skin.
"Keifer…" I breathed out his name again, a plea for him to stop before I lost every bit of my resolve.
He froze, his forehead resting against mine as he sucked in a jagged, frustrated breath. For a second, I thought he was going to ignore the rules—the look in his eyes was predatory, like he was seconds away from claiming what was his regardless of the deal.
But then, he let out a low, rough growl of surrender.
"Fine," he rasped, his voice vibrating deep in his chest. "I'll wait. I'll give you until our wedding night, Jay."
He pulled back just an inch, his gaze dropping to my lips with an intensity that made my knees feel like jelly. A slow, dangerous smirk curled on his mouth—the kind of look that promised trouble I wasn't sure I was ready for.
"But the second that ring is on your finger? All bets are off," he whispered, his voice dark and heavy with a promise. "I'm not stopping until you forget your own name. I'm going to make sure your screams have the neighbors calling the cops on us, wife."
My heart did a violent somersault. My face was so hot I thought I might actually spontaneously combust right there in the bathroom. Before I could even find my voice to snap back at him, he leaned down and caught my bottom lip between his teeth.
He sucked on it slowly, possessively, a final "souvenir" before he stepped back and let the cold air hit my sensitized skin. He left me leaning against the tile, breathless and completely dazed, as he turned toward the shower like nothing had happened.
Damn it, Keifer. I was supposed to be the one in control of the rules, but with one look, he'd reminded me exactly who I was dealing with.
After that intense "shower incident," I quickly changed into something comfortable—oversized and far away from that cursed dress. I needed air. And flour.
I headed downstairs and saw the two younger ones lounging around.
"Keiran, where's your brother?" I asked, looking around the living room.
Keiran looked up with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Who? I have two brothers, Ate."
I reached out and lightly tapped his forehead. "Smartass. You know who I mean. Keifer."
"He's taking a phone call upstairs," Keigan answered for me, his voice calm as usual.
"Thanks. Tell him I'm heading out to buy some flour," I said, grabbing my purse.
Keiran's face lit up instantly. "Ate! Since you're going anyway, can you get me some chocolate bars? The big ones!"
I smiled and nodded, then looked at the quieter one. "What about you, Keigan? What do you want?"
"Ice cream," Keigan said without hesitation. "Cookies and Cream."
I grinned. At least some things were predictable. "Got it."
The London weather was actually decent for once, so I decided to walk. The cool breeze helped clear my head of... well, Keifer's face. I reached the store and started grabbing what I needed: chips, Keiran's chocolates, and the tub of Cookies and Cream.
I reached for my pocket to text Keifer and ask if he wanted anything, but my heart sank. Crap. I forgot my phone on the nightstand.
I stood in the aisle, trying to channel my inner Keifer. What does a possessive, grumpy guy like him eat? He's a total health nut most of the time, but then I remembered his one weakness. Lollipops. I grabbed a handful of them, checked out, and started the walk back.
That was when I noticed the dark car crawling along the curb behind me.
"Miss, do you want a ride? I can drop you off," a man called out from the window.
I didn't even look at him. "No, I'm good. My house is just around the corner," I said, picking up my pace.
Suddenly, the car swerved in front of me, blocking my path on the sidewalk. My pulse spiked. I looked around, hoping the crowd nearby would notice, but everyone seemed busy in their own world. I really, really didn't want to get into a fight while carrying a tub of melting ice cream.
"Come on, Miss, it'll be a quick ride," the man said, leaning out. His eyes roved over me in a way that made my skin crawl. "Unless you don't want it to be quick..."
That did it.
PAK!
I didn't think; I just reacted. My fist connected with his jaw, and before he could recover, I landed a solid kick right between his legs.
"Go ride that. Now beat it!" I snapped, turning to walk away.
But they weren't alone. The car doors flew open, and two other guys stepped out, grabbing my arms to drag me toward the backseat. I struggled, ready to go full-blown Amazonian on them, when an elderly man stopped nearby.
"Is there a problem here, young lady?" he asked, his voice trembling with concern.
I opened my mouth to scream for help, but the creep I'd punched got in my face first. "Mind your own business, old man! She's with us!"
"Asshole! Who the fuck are you?" I screamed, trying to wrench my hand free from the man's grip.
The guy started to pull me harder toward the open door, but he never made it to the car.
A shadow blurred past me. A sickening CRACK echoed through the street as a fist slammed into the guy's face, sending him spinning into the pavement.
"FUCKING ASSHOLE! HOW DARE YOU TOUCH MY WIFE'S HAND!"
The voice was a low, lethal roar. I didn't even have to look. The air itself seemed to vibrate with a familiar, dangerous rage.
Keifer was there. And God help anyone who had their hands on me.
I could only watch in a daze as Keifer turned into a literal monster.
He didn't just punch them; he was dismantling them. Every hit sounded like a bone breaking, and the look in his eyes... it wasn't the Keifer who teased me in the kitchen. This was a predator protecting his territory.
"Son of a bitch! Who the fuck do you think you are?!" Keifer roared. He grabbed one guy by the hair and slammed his face into the car door. The sound made me flinch.
"Keifer, let's go!" I shouted, stepping over the groceries.
He didn't even blink. It was like he had completely tuned out the world, his entire existence focused on the blood on his knuckles and the guys groveling at his feet. People were stopping, phones were coming out, and the air was thick with the scent of iron and gasoline.
"Keifer, please! Don't kill anyone today!" I yelled again, finally lunging forward to grab his arm.
His muscles were like granite. I had to practically hang my entire weight on him just to get him to stop the next blow. He finally slowed down, his chest heaving, his eyes still fixed on the guy whose face was now a unrecognizable mess.
That's when the 'leader'—if you could even call him that—spat out a glob of blood and glared at me. "Do you even know who we are?"
I felt a flash of irritation. Here we go again with the "do you know who I am" card. I adjusted my grip on my bags and looked him dead in the eye. "Am I supposed to know that?"
"You bitch... this won't be the end. I will kill—"
He didn't get to finish that sentence. Honestly, I didn't have the patience for it. Before he could utter another word, my fist connected with his jaw.
CRACK.
His head snapped back and his eyes rolled up. He hit the pavement like a sack of potatoes, completely out cold.
"Let's go," I muttered to Keifer, not even checking to see if my knuckles were bruised.
I grabbed his hand—which was shaking from the sheer amount of adrenaline—and dragged him toward our car. I picked up the fallen grocery bags, making sure the ice cream hadn't leaked, and shoved him into the driver's seat.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Keifer didn't say a word. He didn't look at me. He just gripped the steering wheel so hard I thought it might snap in half. He pulled out into traffic, driving with a terrifying, silent precision.
I sat there, staring at the tub of Cookies and Cream in my lap. We had just survived a kidnapping attempt, Keifer had nearly murdered three men in broad daylight, and I had just knocked a guy out—all for some flour and snacks.
I looked at his profile, the sharp line of his jaw still tight with a rage that hadn't quite faded. I knew him. He wasn't just mad at them. He was mad at himself for letting me go out alone.
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