After the fun time at the boutique, the mansion felt very lonely.
Sophia had gone to stay with her aunt, and the big house was too quiet.
Jay went to her room and She put on her most comfortable clothes: a very big, old grey T-shirt and checkered pajama pants.
With her hair in a messy bun, she didn't look like a rich "Ice Queen" anymore. She just looked like a normal girl.
She went downstairs to the living room. The maids were busy cleaning in other rooms, so Jay was all alone.
She sat on the soft couch and thought about Keifer. She remembered Sophia teasing her about being "alone with her hubby," and her face turned very red.
She felt happy and nervous at the same time, waiting fora Keifer to come home from his meeting.
She thought that maybe this marriage wasn't a contract and a real one where they can really live like real husband and wife.
To pass the time, she turned on the TV. She wasn't really watching it, but she liked the noise.
Suddenly, a news reporter's voice got very loud and serious.
"We have breaking news about a terrible car accident," the reporter said.
Jay looked at the screen. She saw a video of a black luxury car that was completely smashed against a wall.
It looked like a pile of broken metal. Then, the reporter said the words that made Jay's heart stop.
"The car is a Rolls-Royce Ghost with the license plate K-WAT-01. The driver is in very bad condition and is being rushed to St. Jude's Memorial Hospital."
Jay felt like she couldn't breathe. That was Keifer's car. That was his license plate.
"No," she whispered. "This can't be happening."
She grabbed her bag and tried to find her phone. She pushed the button over and over, but the screen stayed black and broken because of the accident with Sophia earlier.
She run to another phone on lobby table, she tried to call but it was showing off.
She was trembling, maids saw her and come to her, jay was trying to connect again and again.
"What happened miss." A maid ask her.
She felt a lump in throat, she stammer pointing towards tv "keifer...keifer."
Head chef also came, and ask "Should we call Mr and Mrs watson?"
" No...not now, I'll check myself first."
She had no way to call him. She had no way to know if he was safe.
She didn't even think about her pajamas or her messy hair. She ran out of the house as fast as she could.
She didn't tell the maids where she was going. She ran all the way to the street and jumped into a taxi, screaming for the driver to go to the hospital.
The taxi ride to St. Jude's Memorial Hospital felt like a descent into a nightmare.
Jay sat on the very edge of the seat, her fingers digging into her palms so hard that her knuckles turned white.
Outside, the city lights blurred into long streaks of neon, but all she could see was the image on the TV—the mangled black metal of Keifer's car.
Every red light the taxi hit felt like a sharp pain in her chest.
When the car finally skidded to a halt in front of the emergency room, Jay didn't even wait for the door to fully open.
she stumbled out, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
In her oversized grey T-shirt and checkered pajama pants, she looked completely out of place among the sterile white walls and the quiet, late-night staff.
Her hair had almost completely fallen out of its bun, hanging in messy strands around her pale, tear-stained face.
"Keifer Watson!" she screamed as she reached the reception desk, her voice cracking with terror.
"Where is he? There was a crash... the Rolls-Royce... the news said he was brought here!"
The receptionist, a woman who had seen many tragedies, looked at Jay's messy clothes and felt a wave of pity. She quickly began typing on her computer.
The silence while the woman searched was suffocating.
"I'm sorry, miss," the woman said softly, shaking her head. "There is no one named Mark Keifer Watson registered in this hospital."
"Check again!" Jay cried out, her hands slamming onto the marble counter. A hot, heavy tear fell onto the desk.
"Ma'am, I've checked every intake. He isn't in our system. Perhaps you should try calling his personal line?"
"I can't!" Jay sobbed, pulling her shattered, black phone from her pocket and shaking it. " I have no way to reach him! He's my husband... please, you have to find him!"
When the woman shook her head again, Jay didn't wait.
The panic was now a wild, uncontrollable fire in her chest.
If he wasn't at the hospital, and his car was a wreck, there was only one other place he could be.
She ran back out into the night, her sneakers slapping against the pavement as she waved down another taxi, her voice a broken wreck as she gave the address of the Watson Office Building.
The Office Confrontation
The Watson Headquarters was a giant tower of glass and steel, standing cold against the dark sky.
Jay pushed through the heavy revolving doors, her chest heaving as she ran toward the main security desk.
She looked like a ghost—pale, trembling, and dressed in clothes meant for a bedroom, not a corporate lobby.
"Where is he? Mark keifer watson, where is he ?" she gasped, her voice echoing in the vast, quiet space.
The receptionist looked at Jay's pajamas with a sneer of disgust.
To the high-end staff, Jay looked like a crazy person who had wandered in from the street.
He was in an important meeting and has instructed staff to not to allow anyone inside and if it's not important tell them that he's not here.
"Mr. Watson is not here."
"What do you mean he's not here?!" Jay's voice rose into a frantic, hysterical shriek.
She let out a loud, primal sob that seemed to pull the air right out of the room.
She covered her face with her hands, her body shaking so violently she had to lean against the desk to keep from falling.
She felt like her world was ending, and the cold, professional faces around her didn't even care.
"Jay?"
The voice was deep, familiar, and filled with sudden, sharp concern.
Jay froze. The world seemed to go silent. She slowly lowered her hands and looked toward the elevator bank.
Standing there, looking perfectly whole and handsome in his charcoal suit, was Keifer.
He was holding a leather briefcase, his tie slightly loosened, and his eyes were wide with shock as he stared at the girl in the middle of his lobby.
Jay didn't think about her pride. She didn't think about the "Ice Queen" mask. She ran as fast as she could and slammed into him with the force of a tidal wave.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder, and held on as if her life depended on it.
The smell of his cologne—the familiar scent of home—made her break down completely.
"You jerk!" she wailed into his chest, her voice thick with salt and terror. "You... you absolute jerk!"
Keifer was stunned. He dropped his briefcase, the loud thud echoing in the room.
He didn't care about the meeting he had just left. He wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, pulling her so close there wasn't a breath of air between them.
"Jay? I'm right here. Shhh, calm down. What happened?"
"I thought I lost you!" she sobbed, her whole body racking with violent, wet hiccups.
As Jay continued to weep into his shirt, the office staff and the investors who had followed Keifer out of the meeting began to gather.
The women in their expensive designer dresses and the men in their tailored suits started whispering loudly, their eyes full of judgment.
"Who is she?" one woman hissed.
"Why is she clinging to Mr. Watson like that?" another whispered.
"She's not even pretty. She looks a mess. Why is the Golden Boy letting a girl like that touch him?" a third one sneered with a laugh.
Keifer heard every word. His body went rigid, and his eyes flashed with a dark, dangerous anger that made the people closest to him step back.
He didn't care about the scandal or the investors. He looked at the whispering crowd and roared with a voice that shook the very glass walls of the building:
"STOP IT! is my WIFE! JASPHER JEAN MARIANO WATSON "
The entire lobby went dead silent. The women who were laughing turned pale, their mouths hanging open in shock.
Impact of Watson plus Mariano was clear on their face.
Keifer didn't wait for them to move. He reached down and scooped Jay up in a bridal style, lifting her light frame effortlessly.
He held her against his heart, his chin resting on her head to shield her from their stares.
He turned his back on the crowd and carried her straight into his private elevator, heading for his penthouse office. He didn't say a word until the doors clicked shut, locking out the world.
The room was vast and dim, lit only by the golden shimmer of the city skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Keifer didn't set her down immediately. He carried Jay across the thick carpet, feeling the way her small, trembling hands still clutched his silk tie as if she were afraid he might vanish if she let go.
He gently placed her on the large, leather chesterfield couch, making sure she was tucked deep into the soft cushions.
Instead of sitting behind his grand mahogany desk, Keifer dropped to his knees on the floor right in front of her.
He didn't care that his thousand-dollar suit was pressing into the carpet or that his sleeves were wrinkled.
He just wanted to be at her level, to see her face.
Jay sat there with her head bowed low.
Her oversized grey T-shirt hung off her thin, making her look even smaller and more fragile.
Her checkered pajama pants looked so out of place against the expensive leather.
A few stray tears still tracked down her cheeks, but the violent shaking had finally started to slow down.
Now that the adrenaline was fading, a wave of deep, burning embarrassment was washing over her.
"I... I shouldn't have come here like this," she whispered, her voice barely a breath. She wouldn't look him in the eye, her gaze fixed on her bare feet.
"I made such a scene. I shouted at your staff... I'm wearing pajamas in the middle of your headquarters. I embarrassed you."
Keifer's jaw tightened for a second as he remembered the hissing voices in the lobby.
He reached out, his large, warm hands gently taking hers.
They were still ice-cold.
He rubbed her knuckles with his thumbs, his touch steady and grounding.
"Jay, look at me," he said softly.
When she didn't move, he reached up and gently hooked his finger under her chin, tilting her face up until her red, swollen eyes met his.
"You think I care about a 'scene'?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low, protective rumble.
"Those people in the lobby... they don't know anything. When I told them you were my wife, I meant it. And when I told them you were the CEO of Mariano Corp, I saw their faces turn pale. They realized they weren't just gossiping about a 'girl in pajamas'—they were insulting a woman who has more power in her pinky finger than they have in their entire bodies."
He gave her a small, lopsided smile—the kind of look that always made her heart skip a beat.
"To be honest, I've never felt more important in my entire life,"
he teased gently.
"The Great Mrs Watson ran across the city in her sleepwear just to make sure I was okay? If that's what 'embarrassing' me looks like, then please, do it every day. I'll take the gossip if it means I get to see how much you care."
Jay sniffled, a tiny, watery laugh escaping her lips despite herself.
She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, feeling a little bit of her spirit coming back.
" I really thought the car... the news... I thought...."
"It wasn't me, it was my driver going home to take some files, he's fine now." He said
He reached out and tugged lightly on her oversized sleeve.
"But really, these pajamas? I think you've just started a new fashion trend at Watson Headquarters. By tomorrow, all my directors will be showing up in checkered pants for the board meeting. It's very... high-fashion."
Jay finally smiled, a real one that reached her tired eyes. She swatted his shoulder weakly.
" I look like a total mess."
"You look like my wife," he corrected her, his expression turning serious and incredibly tender again. "And to me, that is the most beautiful thing in this entire building."
He leaned forward, pulling her back into his arms. This time, the hug wasn't filled with the frantic energy of a disaster.
It was slow, warm, and smelled of safety—sandalwood and the faint scent of the office. Jay leaned into him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, finally letting the last of the fear melt away.
Keifer tighten his hold and kissing the top of her head.