ᕙ༼Keifer's༽ᕗPOV
The silence of the lockdown was broken around 3 AM by a sound that made my blood run cold. It wasn't a hum or a sigh; it was a sharp, jagged gasp.
Jay Jay began to thrash against the silk sheets, her head shaking side to side. "No," she muttered, her voice thin and panicked. "The numbers... they're not... I can't... please..."
She was back there. Back at that "scary table," surrounded by the vipers who had spent weeks trying to drain the life out of her. Even in her collapse, the trauma of the boardroom was hunting her down.
"Jay Jay, stop," I commanded softly, pulling her closer until her back was crushed against my chest, making her feel my solidity. "Listen to my voice."
"They're watching," she whimpered, her fingers clawing at my forearms. "I have to be stone. I have to stay cold. Keifer, help me, I'm freezing..."
"You're not stone, sweetheart. You're warm, and you're with me," I rumbled, my voice a low, grounding vibration against her spine. I tucked my chin over her shoulder, my lips brushing her ear. "The meeting is over. I fired them all in my head hours ago. There is no table, no vipers, and no one is watching you but me."
I caught her hands in mine, threading our fingers together and pressing them flat against the mattress to stop her shaking. "Breathe with me. In and out. That's it."
Slowly, the frantic rhythm of her heart started to sync with mine. Her breathing hitched one last time before it leveled out. She didn't wake up, but the tension left her face, the nightmare receding back into the dark.
"I've got the door, Jay Jay," I whispered, kissing the back of her neck. "No one gets in. I'm the only predator left in this room."
She let out a long, broken sigh and finally went limp, her head falling back against my shoulder. She was safe again.
The second day broke with a quiet stillness that I actually found myself enjoying, right up until the moment I felt a sharp poke in my ribs.
I looked down to see Jay Jay staring at me.
Her eyes were finally clear, the glassy fog of exhaustion replaced by a spark of her usual, chaotic energy. She didn't look like a CEO.
She looked like a hungry, mischievous brat.
"Keifer," she whispered, her voice still a bit scratchy. "I'm starving. My stomach is eating itself."
Relief washed over me so hard I almost laughed. "Thank God. What do you want? I'll have the finest chef in the city send something to the service elevator."
She scrunched up her nose, leaning back against the pillows as she tapped her chin thoughtfully. "No. I want... I want vanilla ice cream. With hot sauce. The really vinegary kind."
I froze, halfway out of bed. "I'm sorry, what? You want to ruin perfectly good gelato with Tabasco?"
"And milk," she added, her eyes widening with excitement. "But with lemon squeezed in it. Like a tangy, curdly latte."
I stared at her for a long beat. "Jay Jay, you've had a traumatic week, but I think your brain has actually short-circuited. That is a crime against gastronomy."
"It's what the 'Ice Queen' requires!" she declared, dramatically flopping back into the blankets and clutching her stomach. "If I don't get my spicy ice cream and sour milk, I might just wither away right here. Is that what you want, Keifer? For me to wither?"
I groaned, running a hand through my messy hair, a smile tugging at my lips despite the absolute horror of her request. "Fine. You want the weirdest breakfast in the history of this penthouse? You've got it. But if you get a stomachache, I'm the one who has to deal with the consequences."
"You love the consequences," she chirped, watching me head toward the kitchen.
I heard the unmistakable rustle of sheets and the soft thud of her feet hitting the floor. I didn't even have to turn around from the kitchen island to know what she was up to.
"Back in the hole, brat," I called out, my voice stern but laced with amusement.
"I'm just supervising!" she protested, her voice getting closer. "The ratio is delicate, Keifer! If it's too cold, the spice doesn't hit right. If it's too hot, the ice cream melts into a puddle of sadness!"
I turned around just as she reached the kitchen threshold, draped in my oversized silk robe that trailed behind her like a royal cape. She looked ridiculous and beautiful, her hair a chaotic nest of knots. I walked over, scooped her up around the waist despite her indignant squeaks, and carried her right back to the bedroom.
"You are on doctor-ordered bed rest," I reminded her, dumping her unceremoniously onto the pillows and tucking the heavy duvet back up to her chin. "I am a CEO. I can manage a 'delicate ratio' of condiment to dairy."
"Four drops!" she barked, pointing a finger at me as I retreated. "Four drops of the habanero sauce per scoop! And don't you dare stir the lemon into the milk—just let it float on top like a little sour island!"
"You're a menace to society," I muttered, shaking my head as I headed back to the kitchen to fulfill the most disgusting order of my life.
I spent the next ten minutes meticulously measuring out hot sauce and lemon juice while she shouted "corrections" from the other room every thirty seconds. When I finally returned with the tray, I felt like I was presenting a biohazard rather than a meal.
She beamed, her eyes lighting up as she took the bowl of spicy vanilla. "Perfect. You're promoted, Keifer. Head Chef of Weird Cravings."
"Eat your poison, Jay Jay," I sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching her take a huge, happy bite that would have sent anyone else to the hospital.
Before the movie even started, I had to take care of her. She was still fragile, and that IV site needed to stay clean. I brought a bowl of warm water and soft cotton pads to the bedside.
"Stay still," I murmured, my hands steady as I carefully wiped down her skin. I was meticulous, moving with a reverence that felt almost like a prayer. I cleaned away the sweat of her nightmares and the lingering chill of her collapse. She watched me the whole time, her gaze heavy and soft, stripped of every corporate defense she'd ever built.
The moment I finished, she didn't reach for the robe or the shirt I'd laid out. Instead, she dove right back into the center of the bed, snatching the silk sheet and clutching it to her chest—her "shield" back in place.
"You're really going to spend the next two days as a silk-wrapped burrito?" I teased, leaning over her. "Since you got here, you haven't worn a single stitch of clothing."
"It's my sanctuary," she whispered, her eyes dancing. "Clothes are for people who have to be somewhere. I don't have to be anyone but yours right now."
I couldn't argue with that logic. I climbed in beside her, and we started the movie. When the scene shifted—the music swelling as the leads finally crashed together in a desperate, cinematic kiss—I felt her shift against me.
She turned her head, that mischievous, bratty smile blooming on her lips. She looked from the screen to my mouth, then back again, her eyebrows raised in a silent, daring challenge.
"No," I said, my voice grounding us. "You're recovering. Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?" she asked innocently, though she started to shimmy the sheet down just an inch, her shoulder peeking out. "I'm just observing the cinematography, Keifer. It looks... effective. Don't you think?"
"I think you're a menace," I growled, even as I felt my pulse kick up. "The doctor said rest, not... whatever that look in your eyes is."
"I am resting," she insisted, her hand snaking out from under the silk to trail a finger down the center of my chest. "My body is resting. My mind, however, is very, very bored."
I caught her hand, pinning it to my heart. "Jay Jay, I'm serious. You were shivering two hours ago."
"And I'm warm now," she countered, leaning up to press a tiny, fleeting kiss to the corner of my jaw. "So warm. Aren't you going to check my temperature?"
"Fine,you win, you always win".
The moment my lips finally met hers, the "medical" excuse evaporated like mist. It was supposed to be a chaste check-up, a brief reassurance, but the second the warmth of her mouth sparked against mine, the gravity of the room shifted.
The control i'd been white-knuckling for hours snapped. Jay Jay made a small, triumphant sound against my lips—a soft hum of victory—as her fingers tangled into in hair, pulling me closer. The silk sheet, once her sanctuary, was now just a thin barrier as she arched into me, all that "bored" energy turning into a desperate, focused heat.
"Rest," i managed to mutter against her skin, though i were already deepening the kiss,my hands sliding down to frame her face.
"I feel... much better," she whispered breathlessly, her eyes dark with mischief and something much more potent. "Best medicine I've ever had."
I knew i should stop, that the movie was still playing unheeded in the background, but as she tilted her head to give me better access, the "rest" the doctor ordered felt like a lifetime ago.
The adrenaline hit instantly, cooling the heat in my veins with a jolt of pure panic. Only a few people had the clearance to bypass my security and override the elevator—and none of them could see her here.
"Stay silent," I hissed, scooping her up before she could even process the change in tempo.
I lunged for the walk-in closet, my boots thudding against the hardwood. I practically tossed her into the shadows of the rear wardrobe, shoving aside heavy wool coats to create a pocket of space.
"Don't make a sound," I commanded, my voice a jagged whisper as the elevator chimed its arrival. I pressed a final, frantic kiss to her forehead and swung the heavy mahogany doors shut. I had just enough time to smooth my hair and adjust my collar before the lock clicked open.
"I am not a pair of shoes!" Jay Jay hissed, but you didn't give her a choice. With the front door lock already clicking, you scooped her up—silk cocoon and all—and stuffed her into the back of the walk-in cupboard.
"Stay. Silent," i commanded, shutting the door just as the heavy thud of boots hit the living room floor.
I barely had time to smooth my hair before the bedroom door swung open. The air in the room instantly turned cold and heavy. Leading the pack was Angelo, his eyes like a hawk scanning for a single out-of-place shadow. Behind him, Aries leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his lip curled in a permanent scowl as he glared at me. Percy brought up the rear, giving me a small, sympathetic wince.
The second the door flew open, the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Angelo didn't even step inside; he stormed in, his voice booming with the authority of the eldest brother.
"Keifer! Why is the front door locked like a fortress? Explain yourself!" Angelo's eyes were narrowed, scanning your face like a lie detector. "Where is my sister? I've been calling her for twenty minutes."
"She's... resting, Angelo. The fever took a lot out of her,"i said, trying to keep my voice from cracking.
Aries pushed past him, his face twisted in a permanent scowl. He walked straight up to me, invading my personal space. "Resting? Or are you just hiding the fact that you're incompetent? You look like you've seen a ghost—or like you're guilty of something." He sniffed the air aggressively. "Why does it smell like silk and expensive perfume in here? And why is the bed a mess if she's 'not here'?"
"I told you, she's with your mom," i blurted out, desperate.
"Is she now?" A voice came from the hallway. Tita stepped into view, looking worried. "I haven't seen her since this morning, Keifer. I thought she was with you."
"Right... maybe she went to see Cin... Cin?" you pivoted, sweat bead forming on your brow.
"I'm right here, Keifer," Cin said, appearing from behind Percy with an arched eyebrow. "And I haven't seen a hair of her."
The silence that followed was deafening. Angelo took a slow, predatory step toward the walk-in cupboard. "So... she's not with Mom. She's not with her friend. You're sweating, the bed is trashed, and you're acting like a criminal."
Suddenly, a loud THUD and a muffled "Ouch, stupid hanger!" came from behind the cupboard door.
Angelo's hand froze on the handle. He turned his head slowly to look at you, his eyes flashing with lethal intent. "Keifer... why is my sister swearing inside your closet?"
"It's... a very organized closet?" you tried, but Aries was already lunging forward.