Jay's POV
The Manila heat was a physical weight, a stark contrast to the chilled, expensive air of London I'd left behind. It had been exactly two weeks since the "Donkey Incident"—fourteen days of me successfully pretending that my heart didn't do a frantic rhythmic gymnastics routine every time I smelled sandalwood or saw a black suit.
I was back in my element. Jay Mariano: CEO, Section E's resident weapon, and a girl who definitely did not have a video on her phone of a billionaire being chased with a leather belt. I had buried that memory in a digital vault, right next to my feelings and my capacity for mercy.
As I walked through the school gates, the atmosphere was different. Usually, the whispers followed me because of my family name or my reputation for being "untouchable." Today, the whispers were a frantic, buzzing hive of excitement that had nothing to do with me.
"Did you see the convoy?" a girl from the senior block hissed, clutching her friend's arm so hard her knuckles were white. "He's back. And oh my god, the rumors were true. He's a billionaire now. The investment he made in London? It cleared billions."
"He looks like he owns the world," her friend whispered back, her eyes wide. "He's taller, more handsome... it's actually unfair. How can someone look like a model and a shark at the same time?"
I tightened my grip on my bag, my knuckles turning white. No. It couldn't be.I kept my head down, my pace quickening as I marched toward the Section E building. I didn't need to ask who "he" was. There was only one person who could turn the school into a frenzy of worship and fear just by stepping out of a car.
I slid into my seat, the familiar wood of the desk feeling like a shield. I was flanked by my usual buffers: Cin and David. David was mid-sentence, rambling about a new software patch he'd developed for the school's security system. I latched onto his voice like a drowning person.
"So, Jay, the encryption on the firewall is—"
"Present, sir."
The voice didn't just break the silence; it shattered it. It was low, gravelly, and vibrating with a brand of cold, calculated arrogance that hadn't been there two weeks ago. It was the voice of a man who had stopped playing games and started winning them.
"Watson, ?" Sir called out, his own voice sounding slightly intimidated.
"Present."
I didn't turn. I frozen, my eyes fixed on a tiny, jagged scratch on David's desk. My heart, that traitorous organ, began to thud against my ribs like a trapped bird.
Wtf. Why is he back? Why here? He should be in a boardroom, not a classroom. I could feel it—that heavy, burning sensation on the back of my neck.
He was staring. I knew that stare; it was the one that promised trouble, broken glass, and memories I couldn't delete. I won't look back. I am a stone. I am a wall. I am Jay Mariano.
The second the bell rang, the professional facade of the classroom disintegrated. Section E was a riot of cheering and desk-thumping.
"OUR KING IS BACK!"
"Party, Party, Party!" the guys shouted, surrounding his desk.
Keifer's smooth, dark laugh echoed over the din. "Alright, alright. Standard spot . Everything is on me."
I didn't wait for the encore. I stood up, my movements jerky, and bolted for the exit. I needed air. I needed to be anywhere he wasn't. I headed for the stairs to the second floor, thinking the music wing would be empty. I was passing the music room when a hand shot out from the shadows, wrapping around my wrist with the precision of a predator.
Before I could even gasp, I was yanked into the dim room. The door clicked shut, locking out the noise of the hallway.
"Where are you going in such a hurry, Princess? I haven't even had my morning greeting." Keifer was leaning against the door, his silhouette tall and imposing. The boyishness he used to carry was gone, replaced by a sharp, lethal elegance. He looked like a king who had finally claimed his throne.
"That's none of your business, Watson," I snapped, trying to wrench my arm back. "The school has rules about kidnapping classmates. Or did your billions buy you an exemption from the student handbook too?"
He didn't let go. Instead, he stepped closer, crowding my space until I could smell that haunting mix of ozone and mint. His eyes dropped to my mouth, and he slowly, deliberately traced his finger over my lower lip—the exact spot where our teeth had collided in that frantic, hungover kiss in London.
"You've been avoiding me, Jay," he whispered, his voice dropping an octave.
The touch sent a jolt of electricity straight to my core. I shoved his chest, my skin stinging from the contact. "I have a life, Keifer. One that doesn't involve being your 'human mattress' or your 'princess.' Get out of my way." I ducked under his arm and ran out, my face burning with a heat that had nothing to do with the tropical weather.
I spent my break talking with Mia, pretending to listen to her talk about the new dance routine, though I didn't hear a word. I was just vibrating with adrenaline.
By the time I returned to the Section E classroom for the final period, I was exhausted. I sat in my seat and jammed my headphones on, cranking the volume to block out the world.
Thump.
A box of artisanal, gold-leafed chocolates landed on the seat right in front of me. Then another. Then a third. I looked up, pulling my headphones down to my neck.
Keifer was standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, looking entirely too smug. The rest of Section E was hovering like a pack of hungry wolves, their eyes wide, their hands twitching toward the mountain of sweets.
"Nobody touches a single piece," Keifer warned the class, his voice dropping to a cold, authoritative edge that silenced every whisper. "Until Jay takes hers."
My stomach turned. I could smell the rich, dark cocoa. Jay, chocolate... control. They're calling to me. They're my favorite brand, the ones you can only get in that tiny shop in Mayfair. Don't look at them. Don't let him see you want them.
"Jay, please," the others began to plead, their voices a chorus of desperation. "Just take one! He bought out the entire luxury boutique down the street. If you don't eat, we starve!"
I looked at the chocolates—beautiful, decadent, and a symbol of exactly how much power he now wielded. Then I looked at Keifer. He gave me a slow, challenging smirk, as if he knew exactly how much I wanted to tear into that gold foil.
The class jumped as I suddenly stood up and grabbed the boxes. For a second, a cheer started to rise, hands reaching out to catch the leftovers.
But I didn't open them.
I walked straight to the large dustbin at the front of the room. With a steady, cold hand, I dumped every single gold-wrapped box into the trash. The sound of the heavy boxes hitting the plastic echoed like a gunshot.
The room went dead silent. Even the air seemed to stop moving.
I turned to Keifer, my chin tilted high, my eyes like flint. "Some chocolate can't fix everything, Keifer. And some things—like us—can't be bought."
I walked out of the room, my heart hammering a triumphant, painful beat. I didn't look back, but I knew his eyes were on me. The "King" was back, but I wasn't going to be his subject.