Jay pov
The aftermath of a successful "Operation: Royal Kidnapping" led to exactly what the Black Box had been missing for years: an unapologetic, loud, and brilliantly chaotic private party. The grand hall, which had once felt like a cold museum of mourning, was now filled with the smell of Aries' specialty wagyu sliders, the clinking of expensive crystal, and the high-pitched giggles of a three-year-old commander
I leaned against the mahogany bar, watching the scene with a warmth that had nothing to do with the wine in my glass. For the first time, the "Garrison" wasn't a military unit; they were a family.
Percy was in the center of the room, standing on a coffee table with a karaoke microphone in one hand and a chicken wing in the other. He was mid-way through a dramatic rendition of a pop song, his Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned to reveal a "Best Uncle" sticker Alexander had slapped onto his chest earlier.
"I'm telling you, Keif! The kid is a tactical prodigy!" Percy shouted between verses, pointing the mic at Keifer. "He bypassed the infrared sensors using a literal juice box as a heat-shield! A juice box!"
Keifer sat on the sofa, looking more relaxed than I had seen him in a decade. He had Alexander perched on his lap, the boy currently trying to see if he could fit his entire hand inside his father's whiskey glass (which Keifer had wisely emptied minutes prior).
"He didn't bypass them, Percy," Keifer remarked with a smirk. "He just knew you were too busy looking at your phone to check the monitors. The legacy of the Watsons is built on focus—something you clearly lack after two margaritas."
"Hey!" Percy squawked, nearly falling off the table. "I was distracted! David told me there was a spider on my neck!"
David didn't even look up from his tablet, where he was busy looping the footage of Percy getting trapped in his own grappling hook. "There wasn't a spider, Percy. I just wanted to see if your reflexes were still functional. Results were... inconclusive."
The Brothers' Banter
On the other side of the room, Keigan and Keiran were engaged in a fierce game of darts with Angelo. The stakes, as usual, were absurdly high.If I hit the bullseye, Angelo, you have to admit that the Mariano legal team is just a bunch of overpriced paper-pushers," Keigan challenged, balancing a dart with surgical precision.
"And if you miss," Angelo countered, smoothing his silk tie, "you have to let Alexander drive your new Ferrari around the driveway. Without a car seat."
"Deal," Keigan said, letting the dart fly. It hit the bullseye with a satisfying thud.
"Cheater!" Keiran laughed, shoving his brother. "You used the wind-current from the AC. I saw you adjust the vents!"
I walked over to the sofa, sliding in next to Keifer. He immediately wrapped an arm around me, pulling me into his side. Alexander saw me and lunged for a hug, smelling faintly of chocolate and mischief.
"Mama! Uncle Percy said I can have a motorcycle when I'm four!" Alexander announced.
I looked at Percy, who suddenly found the ceiling very interesting. "Is that so? Well, Uncle Percy is going to be sleeping in the koi pond if he keeps giving you ideas like that."
The Teasing Tide
As the night wore on, the comedy reached its peak. We were all sitting in a large circle on the floor and the plush sofas—a rare moment of absolute equality between the King, the Queen, the Garrison, and the Brothers.
"Remember the time Keifer tried to change a diaper for the first time?" Aries asked, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "He put on a full hazmat suit. He looked like he was prepping for a bio-chemical war."
"It was a bio-chemical war," Keifer defended himself, though he was grinning. "That kid has the metabolism of a nuclear reactor. I've seen Section E missions with less collateral damage."
"And what about the 'Starlight'?" Percy chimed in, leaning forward with a devious glint in his eyes. "The world thinks Dr. Jay Mariano is this cold, untouchable goddess. But I remember when she tried to cook a 'simple' pasta for Keifer's birthday and ended up calling the fire department because she thought the steam was a gas leak."
"In my defense," I said, pointing a finger at my step-brother, "I spend my life in sterile environments. Smoke is generally a bad sign in an OR!"
The room erupted in a chorus of "Oohs" and laughter. Alexander was rolling on the carpet, laughing simply because everyone else was. It was perfect. It was the "before" that we never thought we'd get back. We were teasing each other, poking at old wounds that had finally turned into scars, celebrating the fact that we were still standing.
"Look at the Monster now," Keiran teased, gesturing to Keifer. "The most feared man in the hemisphere, and he's currently being used as a footstool by a three-year-old."
Keifer looked down at Alexander, who had indeed fallen asleep with his muddy boots resting right on Keifer's expensive slacks. "He's the only one allowed," Keifer said softly. He looked up at me, his eyes full of a deep, quiet contentment. "I have everything I need right here."
The Sudden Silence
The laughter was still echoing when the air in the room seemed to shift.
Keifer started to stand up, likely to carry a sleeping Alexander up to bed. He reached for the arm of the sofa, but his hand missed. He stumbled, his boots scuffing the rug.
"Whoa, easy there, Tiger," Percy joked, reaching out to steady him. "Maybe that last scotch hit harder than you thought."
But Keifer didn't laugh. He didn't snap back with a witty insult.
His face, which had been flushed with warmth and laughter seconds ago, went a terrifying shade of ash-gray. His eyes didn't focus on Percy; they seemed to look right through him, fixed on something invisible in the middle of the room.
"Keif?" I stood up, my medical instincts snapping to the surface before my heart even had time to race.
He didn't answer. His breathing became shallow, a ragged, hitching sound. He reached for his throat, his fingers clawing at his collar, and then his knees simply gave out.
"KEIFER!"
It happened in slow motion. The King of the Black Box, the man who had survived explosions and heartbreaks, collapsed like a felled oak. He hit the floor with a heavy, sickening thud, his head narrowly missing the edge of the marble coffee table.
The laughter died instantly, replaced by a silence so cold it felt like the walls were frosting over.
"Keifer! Move! Get out of the way!" I screamed, diving toward him.
Percy and David were already on their feet, their "party" personas vanishing and being replaced by the lethal efficiency of the Garrison. Percy scooped up a startled, waking Alexander and handed him to a pale Lia, shielding the boy's eyes.
I was on the floor beside him in seconds. My hands were on his neck, searching for a pulse. It was there—thready, erratic, and dangerously fast.
"He's tachycardic!" I shouted. "C in! Get the medical bag! Now!"
Keigan and Keiran were hovering, their faces masks of pure terror. They had just gotten their brother back. They couldn't lose him now.
"Keifer? Keifer, look at me!" I slapped his cheek, my voice cracking. "Stay with me, you bastard! Don't you dare do this!"
His eyes were rolled back, his body beginning to stiffen. This wasn't just a faint. This was a total systemic collapse. The man who had been the pillar of our world for two years—the man who had carried my grief when I couldn't—had finally broken under the weight of it all.
The private party, the happy comedies, the teasing... it all vanished. The Black Box was back at war. But this time, the enemy wasn't an assassin or a rival family.
The enemy was the heart of the King himself.