Mr. Watson was perched on a stool near the kitchen island, his fingers swirling a crystal glass filled with Louis XIII de Rémy Martin-a cognac so prestigious it was more of a liquid heirloom than a drink.
It had been a gift from a business associate he hadn't seen in a year, a fellow billionaire who knew Arthur had a weakness for the finer things.
The aroma of myrrh, honey, and dried roses wafted up from the glass.
He was just tilting his head back to take that first, expensive sip when a slender hand clamped firmly over his wrist, halting the glass mid-air.
He looked up, his eyes widening as he met the sharp gaze of his wife.
He immediately broke into a sheepish, boyish smile.
"Aurthorrrrr..." Mrs. Watson groaned, tilting her head as she looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and warning.
Mr. Watson actually flinched, the billionaire's usual poise evaporating in an instant.
"Sweetheart..."
"Don't you dare 'sweetheart' me," she snapped, her eyes narrowing.
"Do you remember where we were going tonight?"
"Yes," he answered quickly, sounding like a student caught playing hooky.
"Where?"
"A meeting."
"And then?" she prompted, her voice rising an octave.
"The gala," he mumbled into his collar.
"Then why the hell are you drinking this?" she demanded, gesturing to the high-proof cognac.
"When you know perfectly well you can't handle it!"
Arthur frowned, his pride momentarily stung. "I can handle my liquor, Elena. I'm a grown man."
"Yeah, I've seen you 'handle it' last time, Mr.,"
she countered.
In one swift, practiced motion, she grabbed him by the silk collar of his tuxedo and pulled him toward her, her face inches from his.
Her expression was a terrifying blend of elegance and pure, unadulterated anger.
Arthur's eyes went wide as he looked into the face of the only person on earth who truly intimidated him.
He let go of the glass, letting her take it from his hand as he stood there, completely at her mercy.
Mrs. Watson was still staring daggers at Arthur, her hand still hovering near his collar, when the heavy front door swung open.
Their heads turned in sync toward the foyer, and their eyes widened as they saw Keifer stride in, carrying Jay in a secure bridal style.
The billionaire couple exchanged a look of pure, baffled confusion.
Keifer, completely focused on the girl in his arms, didn't even notice his parents standing by the kitchen island.
He walked straight to the living area and leaned down, placing Jay onto the plush sofa with painstaking care.
"Ow!" Jay exclaimed, a small hiss of pain escaping her lips as her foot shifted.
The sound acted like a magnet. Arthur and Elena immediately rushed over, their own bickering forgotten.
They watched in silence for a second as Keifer ignored them, grabbing a pillow and adjusting it under Jay's ankle on the coffee table.
"Keifer, what happened?" his mother asked, her voice laced with concern as she saw the medical wrap around Jay's foot.
"Nothing, Mom," Keifer replied, his voice dripping with a thick layer of sarcasm.
"Your daughter was just trying to be a superhero and ended up with a twisted ankle."
Mr. and Mrs. Watson raised their eyebrows in perfect synchronization-a classic family trait.
"Superhero?" Mrs. Watson asked, watching her son throw what looked suspiciously like a protective tantrum.
"Yeah," Keifer muttered, rolling his eyes as he stood up to his full height.
"She got into a fight."
"A fight?!" Elena yelled, moving past Keifer to hover right in front of Jay on the sofa.
"Yeah, a fight," Keifer repeated, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You know, what?. She was throwing punches and landing kicks on a bunch of boys."
"Jay?" Her mother-in-law asked in utter disbelief, her jaw practically dropping.
"Mommmm!" Jay groaned, innocent pouting as she looked up at Elena.
"They were trying to harass a girl! Was I supposed to just stand there and watch? Besides, Soph was with me, and the other girls were there too. I couldn't just let it happen."
To Jay's surprise, a warm chuckle broke out from both Mr. and Mrs. Watson.
The tension she expected vanished instantly.
Elena leaned down and tenderly stroked Jay's hair, a proud smile on her face.
"No, sweetheart! You did exactly the right thing."
Arthur joined in, laughing heartily. "Yes, we are very proud of you."
Feeling validated, Jay turned her head toward Keifer, a triumphant, proud smirk playing on her lips.
See? I'm a hero,
her expression seemed to say.
But the smirk flickered and died the moment she saw him.
He was already staring at her, leaning against the back of the sofa with a devastatingly dark smirk of his own.
He didn't say a word, but his lips moved silently, mouthing three words: "You are talking."
Jay's eyes widened to the size of saucers.
The memory of his threat in the hallway-the promise of a real kiss if she dared to speak-slammed into her.
Her heart gave a violent thud against her ribs.
Am I always supposed to be quiet now? she wondered frantically, her face heating up.
Mrs. Watson, noticing the bandage, reached out to gently check the swelling.
"Let me see..."
"Ow!" Jay winced, pulling back instinctively the moment Elena's fingers grazed the area.
"Arthur, call the doctor immediately," Mrs. Watson commanded, looking over her shoulder at her husband.
"No! No, no... I don't need a doctor," Jay insisted quickly, her voice a pitch higher than usual.
She hated the idea of making a scene or worrying them more than she already had.
"Why not?" Eleanor frowned, her motherly instincts in high gear.
"I'm fine, really. I don't need a doctor. It's just a twist, it'll be okay," Jay protested, waving her hands dismissively.
"No. The doctor is coming,"
Keifer declared, his voice leaving no room for argument.
He looked like he was seconds away from picking up the phone himself.
"Mom... Mom, please," Jay turned to Elena, grabbing her hands and looking up with the most convincing puppy-dog eyes she could muster.
"I promise, I'm okay. I promise I'll tell you if it starts hurting more. Please... no doctor."
Elena looked at Jay's pleading face and felt her resolve crumbling.
She sighed softly, patting Jay's hand.
"Okay... okay, no doctor for now."
"Mom! What do you mean, 'okay'?" Keifer snapped, his brow furrowing in frustration.
"If she doesn't want one, it's okay, Keifer," his mother said firmly, giving him a look that told him to back down.
"Don't force her if she's feeling up to it."
Keifer looked visibly disappointed, his jaw tightening as he looked at Jay's stubborn expression.
He clearly wanted her checked out by a professional, but seeing her cling to his mother's hand, he decided not to push her.
Jay noticed the formal attire again-Arthur's sharp tuxedo and Eleanor's elegant evening gown.
They looked like they were stepped straight out of a luxury magazine.
"Mom, are you going somewhere?" Jay asked, glancing between them.
Mrs. Watson looked down at her dress as if she'd momentarily forgotten she was wearing it.
"Oh! Yes, I nearly forgot. We have a meeting to attend, and then we have the gala."
She looked at Jay's bandaged ankle and shook her head.
Keifer had already bandaged her ankle.
"But I don't think you should join us in this state.
And if you're staying home, then Keifer..."
She trailed off, pointing a manicured finger toward her son to see what his plans were.
"I'm also staying home," Keifer replied instantly, his gaze fixed firmly on Jay.
"Alright," Eleanor said, though she looked a bit hesitant.
"But we've already announced a half-day to all the maids and servants because of the gala. Can you two manage? We're taking Sophia with us; we're actually picking her up directly from the university."
"Yes, we'll manage," Keifer answered, offering his mother an assuring, almost polite smile.
Mom turned back toward Jay, leaning down to wrap her in a warm, motherly hug.
As she held her, she leaned in close, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper right in Jay's ear.
"Try to enjoy being home alone," she whispered.
The words sent a sudden wave of heat crawling up Jay's neck and flushing her cheeks.
Mrs. Watson pulled back with a knowing glint in her eye, pressed a gentle kiss to Jay's forehead, and straightened up, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
The heavy thud of the front door echoed through the mansion, leaving the house in a sudden, ringing silence.
Now, it was just the two of them.
Keifer let out a huff of air and flopped onto the sofa beside her.
He threw his head back against the cushions, turning his face toward her with a small, mischievous twitch on his lips.
Jay immediately bit her lower lip, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
She looked everywhere—the grand chandelier, the curtains, the rug—anywhere but at him.
An awkward silence settled over them, but strangely, Jay found herself loving it.
The tension was thick enough to touch.
She kept her head turned in the opposite direction, a shy smile tugging at her lips that she couldn't suppress, even though her neck was starting to ache from the strained angle.
Suddenly, the air around her shifted.
Feeling a presence closing in, she instinctively turned her face back toward him, only to find him hovering just inches away.
Her breath hitched.
She felt his hand slide smoothly behind her, settling firmly at the small of her waist.
"Keifer..." she breathed out, her voice barely a whisper.
"What?" he asked, raising a single, challenging brow.
She tried to form a coherent sentence, to tell him he was too close or to ask what he was doing, but his proximity was dizzying.
The scent of his cologne and the heat radiating from him made her breath turn shallow and uneven.
He watched the way her chest rose and fell, his gaze tracing a slow, deliberate path from her trembling lips back up to her eyes.
He knew exactly the effect he was having on her, and honestly, teasing her was proving to be far more fun than he'd imagined.
"I'm just taking you to your room," he whispered, his voice a low, vibrating hum, his nose almost touching hers.
"Huh?" The word slipped out before she could catch it, her brain feeling like it had turned to mush.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
He leaned in a fraction closer, his eyes dark with amusement.
"Don't you want to rest? You're hurt, remember?"
"Oh..huh..hm... I'm fine here," she stammered, desperately trying to look away.
But it was a losing battle; her eyes kept getting pulled back, locking onto his lips.
Why the hell do they look so soft? she panicked internally.
She tried to force her gaze elsewhere, but the universe seemed to be conspiring against her.
Her eyes slid down and got stuck right on his Adam's apple.
Jay, look away, pleaseeeee,
she pleaded with herself.
She watched it move as he breathed, and she subconsciously swallowed hard.
Does he want me to eat i... ughhhhh, control, Jay! Control your thoughts!
She practically slapped herself in her mind to snap out of it.
"Jay?" he called out.
He noticed the strange tension in her body and the way she seemed lost in some frantic mental struggle.
"Huh?" she blinked, snapping back to reality.
"Jay, are you okay? What happened to you?" This time, his voice lost its teasing edge, replaced by genuine worry. He leaned in, searching her face.
"I'm saying let me take you to the room so you can change and rest."
"No!" The word slipped out before she could catch it.
"Huh? What 'no'?" He looked genuinely confused.
"I mean... I don't want to go.
I'm... I'm okay here," she insisted.
Deep down, she didn't want him carrying her around like she was a burden; she didn't want him wasting his whole evening just being her personal elevator.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he tried to read her.
"I... I mean... I... I..." Her eyes darted around the room, searching for any plausible excuse.
"Yes! I want to watch TV. Yes."
"TV?"
"Yes," she said, trying to look as innocent as possible.
"There's a TV in our room too, Jay."
She felt the walls closing in. She was trapped.
"But... but this one is bigger! You know? I want to watch the big one."
Keifer stared at her for a long beat, his expression flat.
"Seriously?"
"Yes," she said, nodding her head vigorously like a stubborn child.
He sighed, the corner of his mouth twitching as he gave in to her ridiculous logic.
"Okay."
**
The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the mansion in a soft, twilight glow.
Keifer was in the kitchen, the rhythmic sound of a knife hitting a cutting board echoing as he prepared dinner for them.
He had been a literal shadow for the last four hours, refusing to let her foot even graze the floor.
The TV was blaring some random show, but Jay's mind was completely checked out.
She was beyond bored.
She had tried so hard not to bother him, watching him scurry back and forth, but after the fortieth time he'd checked on her, her patience with her own stillness finally snapped.
"Keifer!" she finally called out, her voice echoing in the quiet house.
In an instant, the sound of cooking stopped.
Keifer came sprinting from the kitchen, his brow furrowed with intense focus.
"Yes, Jay? Do you need something? Does it hurt? Are you in pain? Tell me where it hurts."
The questions came out like rapid-fire as he dropped to his knees beside the sofa.
This was exactly why she'd been hesitant to call him.
His over-protectiveness was sweet, but it was also slightly exhausting.
"No, no! Nothing happened," she replied instantly, holding up her hands to calm him down.
"I was just... getting bored."
She looked toward the large glass doors leading to the backyard.
"Can't I just go to the garden? Just by walking a little? The fresh air would—"
She started to shift, cautiously trying to lower her bandaged foot toward the floor.
"Don't you dare."
The command was sharp.
Keifer's hand moved faster than she could react, hovering just inches from her ankle to block her movement.
He pointed a warning finger at her foot, his eyes locking onto hers with a look that said he was absolutely not joking.
"You stay exactly where you are," he added, his voice dropping into that authoritative tone that usually made her heart skip a beat.
"If that foot touches the tiles, I'm locking the garden doors."
"Keifer..." Jay groaned, her voice echoing her frustration.
"It's just a few steps. I'm not made of glass!"
"Jay, no means no," he replied firmly, his jaw set in that stubborn line she knew all too well.
He began to turn, ready to head back to the kitchen to finish their dinner.
But before he could take a step, she reached out and caught his wrist.
The contact made him pause, and he looked back at her, his expression softening despite himself.
"Keifer, please," she whispered, her voice small and genuinely pleading.
She looked up at him, tilting her head just a fraction, and unleashed the full power of her puppy-dog eyes.
"I'm getting bored. I feel like a prisoner on this sofa."
Keifer froze.
He stared at her for a long beat, then let out a defeated sigh, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling as if asking for strength.
Oh god! Why on earth is she so cute?
he wondered.
It was unfair.
How was he supposed to be the responsible one when she looked at him like that?
He looked back down at her, a new, playful glint appearing in his eyes as a thought struck him.
A slow, mischievous smirk spread across his face.
"Okay then," he said, his voice dropping into a smooth, decisive tone.
"Since you're so bored and the house is empty... let's go on a date."
___________________________________
Hey buddies how are u ?
I know I updated late....maybe but I was gone somewhere, you can say I met my besties after a while damm year ( to be exact : 10 months).
I was excited for 2 days and then I met them yesterday, so I couldn't write much.
Also I tried, I thought I could write their date too in this chapter but it doesn't seem possible so I didn't.
Btw bye I'm tired (for no reason)
Bye bye buddies
Love u ❤️
One more thing, that if u ever feel that when jay smirk at him when his dad say he's proud of jay, keifer threaten her with earlier threat, then why didn't he gave her the punishment, it's bcoz.....my innocence took over me....and also....it's so funny throwing water on my buddies' expectations.... sometimes (disclaimer: don't take it serious (disclaimer I
Valid only for who have soft n weak heart ❤️🤧.)))
Ok bye
Curse me if u want hihi 😁