Keifer's POV
The moment I entered the school gates, I knew something was off.
Not chaos.
Not excitement.
Tension , curiosity and interest.
It hung in the air like a held breath, sharp and quiet. Students weren't loud today—they were alert. Teachers walked straighter.
Security presence had doubled.
Someone important was watching.
I adjusted my jacket and scanned the courtyard. Black sedans. Tinted windows. Men in neutral suits standing too still to be normal.
Corporate.
"J & 'Elvara Global," Yuri muttered beside me. "They're actually here."
I'd heard the name before. Everyone had. A faceless empire. Investments spanning continents. No known CEO. No interviews. No leaks.
Power without a face.
I hated that kind of power.
"They're just observers," I said, more to myself than to Yuri. "Doesn't matter."
But it did.
Because institutions didn't bend like this unless something was at stake.
Inside the auditorium, the seminar began with polished smiles and rehearsed speeches. Representatives spoke about future leadership, vision, discipline.
Empty words.
I leaned back, arms crossed, watching instead of listening.
They weren't here to inspire.
They were here to judge.
My eyes moved instinctively—scanning reactions, postures, who leaned forward too eagerly.
That's when I noticed her.
Jay Jay.
She sat a few rows ahead. Perfect posture. Notebook open. Writing calmly.
No fidgeting.
No whispering.
No pretending to be interested.
She wasn't trying to be seen.
Which made her stand out.
Strange.
After what happened—the parking lot, the car, the humiliation—I expected… something.
Anger. Fear. Collapse.
Instead, she looked untouchable.
Like she'd stepped into a different frequency altogether.
The seminar broke into smaller interactive sessions. Groups were assigned. Discussions started.
I answered confidently. Assertively.
This was my ground.
Yet every time I spoke, I felt eyes on me—not impressed, not critical.
Evaluating.
From the J & 'Elvara team.
One of them scribbled something after I finished speaking. No reaction on his face.
Annoying.
During a break, I caught sight of Jay again. She stood alone near the window, sunlight outlining her profile.
I didn't approach her.
I didn't know why.
Pride, maybe.
Or the unsettling feeling that she no longer existed in the same space I did.
Sebastian passed by with his usual unreadable expression. Mateo laughed softly with Aurora and Chloe near the back.
They looked… aligned.
Like they knew something.
I hated that feeling.
When the seminar ended, applause filled the hall—but it was restrained. Careful.
As if everyone knew they had been measured and didn't know the results yet.
As I walked out, one thought pressed heavily against my mind:
J & 'Elvara Global hadn't come for students like Jay Jay.
They came for people like me.
And yet—
For the first time, I wasn't sure if that assumption was arrogance…
Or a blind spot.
------------------------------
Jay's POV
The seminar started exactly on time.
I expected nothing less.
From the moment I stepped into the auditorium, I could feel it—the quiet shift when controlled power entered a space.
Not dominance.
Authority.
The representatives from J & 'Elvara Global were seated strategically. Peripheral vision coverage. Exit awareness. Minimal interaction.
Professionals.
My professionals.
I took my seat and opened my notebook.
On the surface, I was just another student.
Inside, I was already running projections.
They spoke about leadership.
I watched reactions.
Who leaned forward too quickly.
Who tried too hard.
Who believed confidence meant volume.
And who mistook silence for insignificance.
Keifer spoke.
Of course he did.
Clear voice. Structured logic. Commanding presence.
The kind people confuse for leadership.
One of my observers glanced at him briefly.
Then looked away.
Not dismissed.
Filed.
Interesting.
I wrote a single word in my notebook:
Predictable.
During group sessions, I stayed quiet.
Not withdrawn.
Contained.
True power doesn't announce itself. It listens. It waits.
I felt Keifer 's presence without looking at him. Tension radiated from him like static. He was aware. Alert. Defensive.
He didn't understand what kind of room he was in.
That made him dangerous—to himself.
During the break, I stood near the window, watching reflections instead of faces.
I could see him in the glass.
He didn't approach
Good.
Not yet.
Sebastian passed me subtly and murmured, "They're watching behavior more than answers."
"I know," I replied.
Mateo smiled faintly. Aurora's eyes were sharp, calculating. Chloe's hand brushed mine once—silent reassurance.
My people.
When the seminar concluded, applause filled the room. Polite. Controlled.
Meaningless.
The observers stood and exited first.
As planned.
As I gathered my things, my phone vibrated once.
A single secure notification.
Internal Report — J & 'Elvara Global
Subject pool assessment
No immediate assests identified.
Further observation recommended.
I almost smiled.
Almost.
As I walked out, I felt Keifer glance at me.
He was searching for something.
Answers. Validation. Control.
He wouldn't find any of those in me anymore.
Two weeks.
That was all.
Two weeks until London.
Two weeks until masks became irrelevant.
And when the truth finally surfaced—
It wouldn't arrive loudly.
It would arrive inevitably.
....