KEIFER POV
After yesterday's incident, I didn't waste any time. It didn't take long for Edrix to pull the footage. It was Ram's men—those pathetic assholes. They thought they could target my girl and get away with it? They thought they could touch my girl and keep their lives?
The two men who tried to run over Jay are in the hospital now. I wish I could have killed them then and there, but I had to settle for breaking their legs and a few ribs for now. I wanted them to feel every ounce of pain Jay felt when she hit that pavement. I wanted them to remember my face every time they try to walk for the rest of their lives.
I was outside her house, parked in the shadows, just making sure nobody else was following her. I needed to see with my own eyes that she was okay.
Then, I saw her slip out of the house.
Why are you out here now? I hissed under my breath, my grip tightening on the steering wheel. It's dangerous, Jay. Go back inside.
She started to walk down the street, looking small and stubborn with that cast hidden under her jacket. My heart was thumping—partly from the urge to jump out and drag her back to safety, and partly from the raw need to just be near her.
But then, the sound of an engine cut through the night.
That motorcycle guy came again. Jason.
Asshole.
I watched from the darkness as he pulled up beside her. My blood began to boil. What the hell does he want with her? I was ready to put the car in gear and ram his bike into the curb, but then I stopped.
The way they were talking... the body language... it wasn't the way you talk to a stranger or a stalker. They talked to each other as if they already knew each other. As if they had a history.
My jaw tightened until it hurt.
"Who the hell is he to you, Jay-Jay?" I whispered, my eyes narrowing at them
I couldn't take it anymore. The sight of him leaning toward her, the ease in their conversation, the way he hovered around her like he had some kind of right to be there—it snapped the last thread of my patience.
I floored the accelerator, the engine of my car roaring as I tore out of the shadows. I slammed on the brakes right next to them, the tires screeching against the asphalt and kicking up a cloud of dust.
I jumped out of the car before the engine had even fully cut off.
"What the fuck do you want, Jason?!" I yelled at him, my voice echoing through the quiet street.
I didn't think. I didn't breathe. I didn't even care that we were in the middle of the street.
The moment the words "I'm her first boyfriend" and "first in everything" left Jason's pathetic mouth, my vision went completely black. It wasn't just jealousy; it was a soul-consuming possessiveness that I couldn't control. My fist moved before my brain could catch up, and the sound of it connecting with his jaw was the only thing that felt right in that moment.
I wanted to kill him. I truly did.
But then Jay-Jay—the most dramatic, unpredictable girl in existence—started screaming.
"YOU KILLED HIM! HE'S MET HIS MAKER!"
I stood there, momentarily stunned by her performance. She was checking his pulse on his jaw? His ear? For a second, her panic almost made me believe my own strength. But when she started yelling about the police and me going to jail, I snapped back into reality.
"Move," I growled, shoving her aside. She's lucky she's cute when she's hysterical, because normally I don't tolerate being called a murderer.
I checked his neck. Thump-thump. Still alive. Unfortunately.
"He's alive, you idiot," I muttered. I felt a weird mix of relief—mostly because I didn't want to go to prison and lose track of her—and annoyance that Jason was still breathing.
But when she turned around and told me she was going to her "husband's house," every drop of blood in my body turned into liquid fire.
Husband?
I know she's lying. I know she's just trying to get under my skin. But the fact that she'd even use that word—the word that belonged to me—was enough to make the demon in me want to break the world.
For the record her husband was standing in front of her this whole time
She walked away, waving at me like I was some annoying neighbor and not the man who just defended her honor.
"JAY-JAY!" I barked.
I watched her walk, the sway of her hips and the defiance in her stride making my heart hammer against my ribs. She's cussing. I counted them. Accomplice. Asshole. Son of a bitch.
Kisses I'm going to collect when I catch up to her.
I glanced back at Jason, who was still trying to figure out which planet he was on.
"If you ever speak her name again," I said, my voice like a blade against his throat, "I won't just knock you out. I'll make sure there actually isn't a pulse for her to find next time. Stay away from my wife."
The red mist was already thick, but when Jason rolled his eyes and opened his mouth again, it turned into an inferno.
"Keifer, I'm telling you she is a really good kisser," he rasped, a bloody smirk growing on his face.
The world tilted. I didn't just see red; I saw black. I lunged forward, grabbing his collar and lifting him halfway off the ground. My heart felt like it was going to burst through my ribs.
"Fucking asshole!" I roared, my fist colliding with his face again.
The sound of the impact echoed in the empty street, but Jason wasn't stopping.
He was laughing now—a wet, choked sound. "She didn't tell you? Man, she is hell of good."
"ASSHOLE! DON'T TALK ABOUT HER!" I screamed, losing every ounce of my control.
I hit him again. And again. Each punch was for every image he was putting in my head—images that made me want to rip the tongue out of his mouth. The thought of anyone else touching her, seeing her like that, knowing her in a way that I knew... it was a physical torture. My "demon love" wasn't just angry; it was murderous.
I had him pinned against his bike, my fist pulled back for a blow that probably would have actually killed him this time, when his expression suddenly shifted. The mocking light died out of his eyes.
"I deserve this," Jason said, his voice breaking. He didn't even try to block the next hit. "I shouldn't have let her go... but I had to. Because of my growing enemies."
He sounded... sad. Regretful.
I froze, my fist trembling inches from his nose. I stared at him, the heavy silence of the street settling over us. He wasn't just a biker; he was a guy who had lost the only thing that mattered and was now just a ghost haunting her path.
Jason wiped the blood from his mouth and slowly pushed himself up, steadying his bike. He looked at me, not with the eyes of a rival, but with the eyes of someone who knew he'd already lost.
"Take care of her, Keifer," Jason said, his voice low and hollow.
Without another word, he kicked his bike into gear. The roar of the engine filled the air as he sped off, leaving nothing but the smell of exhaust and the echoing pain of his words.
I stood in the middle of the road, my chest heaving, my knuckles raw and bleeding.
"First in everything?" I whispered to the empty air. A dark, jagged laugh bubbled up in my throat.
If he was her first, then I would be her last. I'd be the one she couldn't forget. I'd be the one who carved my name so deep into her soul that Jason—and every other man who ever looked at her—would become nothing but white noise.
I got back into the car. The leather felt cold, but the interior was stifling with the scent of my own rage. I started the engine, the low growl to match the one in my chest.
I didn't just want her safe from Ram. I didn't just want her safe from my father. I wanted her consumed by me. I wanted to be the only thing she thought about when she closed her eyes. I wanted to be the reason she cussed, the reason she cried, and the reason she finally understood what a Watson's love felt like.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't kind. It was a true demon love, and tonight, she had pushed it to the edge.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I leaned back in my chair, my face a mask of bored indifference, but inside, I was vibrating with a dark, electric amusement. My burner phone was tucked hidden in my lap, well below the sightline of the desk.
I had watched her dance on that TikTok video. I'd watched it at least fifty times. She looked breathtaking—raw, energetic, and so goddamn beautiful it made my chest ache. But seeing her react to my messages in real-time? That was the real entertainment.
To FutureMrs.Watson: My life I didn't know you could dance
I saw her shoulders stiffen. I counted. One.
To FutureMrs.Watson:You look so sexy when you were dancing
Her face turned a shade of crimson that put a smile on my face. She was fuming. She looked like a small, beautiful volcano about to erupt.
From FutureMrs.Watson: Asshole who the hell do you think you are?
I smirked. Asshole. That's one kiss. I typed back the most provocative thing I could think of.
From GagonBaliw: In school but I'm imagining how it would be to wake up next to you naked
The explosion was glorious.
"WHAT THE FUCKKKKK?!"
Her scream was like music. I watched her slam her desk, glare at the boys, and pace like a feral cat. I felt a surge of possessive pride. I was the only one who could make her lose her mind like this. I was the only one who got to see this version of her.
Keep cussing, Jay. Every "Gago," every "Ulupong," every "Asshole"... I'm writing them all down. You have no idea how much you're going to owe me when I finally catch you alone.
I looked at David trying to calm her down and felt that familiar, poisonous jealousy. I wanted to be the one standing in front of her, even if she was trying to kill me.
When Sir Alvin entered and announced a "special guest," I didn't pay much attention. My focus was entirely on the back of Jay's head, watching the way her new bangs moved as she fumed.
Then the door opened.
"Sorry I'm late, Sir," a voice said.
The air in the room didn't just change; it froze.