Jay's POV
The icy resolve of Jasper Jean Mariano wasn't just for the boardroom; it was for the world stage. Within forty-eight hours of the board meeting, I wasn't just a shadow CEO—I was a ghost haunting the London fog.
The Grand Watson Gala was a sea of old money, suffocating perfume, and predatory smiles. I arrived not as Jay-jay, but as the mystery behind the JJM fortune.
I wore a gown of midnight silk that clung to my frame like a second skin, slit get at leg .(check comment)
"Breathe, Jay," Alex whispered, stepping beside me. He looked impeccable, his presence steady and grounding. I didn't just need an assistant tonight; I needed a shield
"I'm fine, Alex," I lied, my voice a hollow echo. But as the ballroom doors swung open, my armor shattered.
Mark Keifer Watson entered. He looked like a god carved from obsidian—colder, sharper, and more devastating than the boy I knew. But he wasn't alone.
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Ion was draped on his arm, smiling like she owned the world.
The rumors were true. The engagement was real, seeing them together made them feel like a death sentence.
The sight was a physical blow to my stomach. I felt the old Jay-jay screaming inside, wanting to run, but the Mariano in me took over. I turned to Alex, my eyes burning with a sudden, desperate fire.
I leaned closer to Alex, tilting my head back to laugh at something he hadn't even said. I let his hand rest firmly on the small of my back, right where the silk met my skin.
"He's looking," Alex whispered, his eyes scanning the room. "And if looks could kill, I'd be buried in the Thames."
I didn't look at Keifer. Instead, I ran a lingering finger down the lapel of Alex's suit. "Good. Let him watch."
For an hour, I played the part of the smitten mogul. I danced with Alex, letting him pull me close, my eyes half-closed as if I were lost in him. I could feel Keifer's gaze—a burning, frantic heat that followed my every move across the marble floor.
I headed toward the terrace for air, the silence of the London night calling to me. But before I could reach the stone railing, a hand gripped my wrist with the force of a vice.
I was yanked into a dark alcove, the scent of expensive cologne and raw fury slamming into my senses.
Keifer.
He slammed his palms against the wall on either side of my head, pinning me in the shadows. His face was inches from mine, his eyes dark with a possessive, murderous rage.
"Who the hell is he, Jay?" he hissed, his voice a low, dangerous vibration.
"A man who doesn't treat me like a tool," I retorted, my voice as sharp as a razor. "Get out of my way, Mr. Watson. Your 'fiancée' is waiting."
"Fiancée?" He let out a harsh, broken laugh, his face inches from mine. His scent—cedarwood and rain—overwhelmed me, a sensory memory that almost brought me to my knees. "You think I am really engaged to her? It's a rumore ,Jay."
"Them why everyone is saying you are engaged to her",I said to him with same tone."You left me!" I choked out, the Ice Queen finally dying. I pounded my fists against his chest, but he didn't budge. "You called me a tool! "
"You walked away, Keifer," I whispered, the Ice Queen finally cracking. "You chose the empire. You chose her."
"I chose to protect you!" He growled, his forehead dropping to rest against mine. His breath was hot against my lips, a desperate contrast to the cold night. "Every move I made was to get back to you. And I come back to find you parading some random guy around like he's earned the right to touch you?"
"Don't play games with me!" He leaned in, his chest heaving against mine, the tension between us thick enough to ignite. "I saw how you looked at him. I saw where his hands were. You're mine, Jay-jay. Mine."
His hand slid from the wall to my neck, his thumb tracing my jawline with a touch that was both a caress and a threat. "I will ruin him. I will ruin anyone who thinks they can take what belongs to me."
I tried to let out a defiant laugh, but it came out as a shaky breath. "You are right Keifer. Alex earned—".
He pulled me flush against him, leaving no air between us. "You used him to sting me. It worked. I'm bleeding, Jay. Are you happy now?"
He didn't wait for an answer. He claimed my mouth in a kiss that was desperate, hungry, and dangerously possessive like a King finally reclaiming his Queen.
"I watched you dance with him," he whispered, his voice vibrating through my skin. "I watched him touch the skin that belongs to me. If you let him move his hand one inch lower, I would have burned this entire gala to the ground just to get you away from him."
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his gaze dropping to my lips. The possessiveness in his eyes was lethal.
"You don't get to do this," I whispered, my voice thick with a pain I couldn't hide anymore. "You don't get to walk back into my life and claim me like a piece of property after you left me in the dark. Do you have any idea what it felt like? To see those headlines? To see you with her?"
Keifer's expression faltered, the predatory fire in his eyes flickering into something raw and agonized. His grip on my waist tightened, not out of possession, but as if he were leaning on me to keep from falling.
"Jay..."
"No!" I choked out a sob, my hands now fisting his shirt, shaking him
A single tear escaped and tracked down my cheek. Keifer caught it with his thumb, his touch suddenly so tender it was more painful than his rage. His own eyes were glassy, reflecting a reflection of my own torment.
"I never left you," he breathed, his voice cracking as he leaned his forehead against mine. "I did —"
"I don't want to listen your explanation",I said trying to pull back my ice queen mask "You said I was tool for your revenge.You broke my heart .Now you don't get to give a damn explanation for it.I hate you Mark Keifer Watson.I truly hate you. Now stop your Gagobaliw drama too",I said and left the terrace.
Keifer's POV
The moment she turned her back on me, the silence of the terrace felt like a physical blow. I stood there, my lungs burning with the scent of her perfume—vanilla and expensive rebellion—while my heart thrashed against my ribs like a caged animal.
"I hate you, Mark Keifer Watson."
Her words were supposed to be my execution, but they felt like a challenge. I watched her silhouette disappear into the ballroom, her midnight-silk gown shimmering like a taunt. Every step she took away from me was a step closer to that assistant.
The jealousy was a living, breathing monster in my throat. Seeing Alex's hand on her back hadn't just made me angry; it had made me homicidal. That skin, that curve of her waist—it was mine. I had said those words to her to protect her, I refused the engagement , threatened my relatives,just so I could stand in front of her again.
I had lived as a ghost, sending those "Gagonbaliw" messages just to feel a spark of the fire she used to give me.
I let her believe I was the villain because a villain's shadow could protect her better than a hero's light.
But seeing her now—seeing her like what she had become—I realized I had protected her so well I'd frozen her heart shut.
"You think you can walk away, Jay?" I whispered, my voice a jagged, dangerous promise.
The pain of her hate was a thousand times better than her indifference. She thought she was a predator now? She hadn't seen the lengths a Watson would go to to reclaim his Queen. I didn't care about the board, the inheritance, or the cameras.
If I had to burn London to the ground to melt that ice and prove she was never a tool, I'd strike the match myself.
I straightened my blazer, my eyes turning cold and predatory. The game was over. I was done being a ghost.