(Jay's POV)
The morning after the chaos, the house felt too quiet, the air still heavy with the scent of the hospital and the echo of that shattered vase. I was staring into my coffee when Keifer slammed his laptop shut with a definitive thwack.
"Right. Pack your bags," he announced, his 'CEO voice' clashing hilariously with his bedhead. "We are leaving. No gunmen, no trauma, just trees and silence."
"And WiFi?" Keigan asked, popping up from behind the sofa like a nervous meerkat.
"No, Keigan. Just nature. And books. Mostly books."
We arrived at the 'Forest Retreat' at midnight. The place was stunning—all cedar wood and floor-to-ceiling glass—but we were all zombies. Keiren and Keigan barely muttered a "goodnight" before stumbling into their room, probably falling asleep before their heads hit the pillows.
Keifer led me into our room, and my jaw dropped. He'd clearly called ahead. There were candles flickering and a massive bouquet of wild lilies. He closed the door, the click of the lock sounding surprisingly loud in the mountain silence.
"You okay?" he whispered, pulling me into his arms.
"Better now," I admitted, breathing in the scent of his cologne. "But maybe keigan and keiren have escaped some war".
Keifer chuckled, his hands sliding down to my waist. "My brothers are unpredictable. But right now..." He leaned down, his lips grazing my ear, "I don't want to talk about brothers."
He was such a gentleman—until he wasn't. He took his time, making me forget every bad memory of the last forty-eight hours. It wasn't just about the intimacy; it was the way he looked at me, like I was the only fixed point in his chaotic world. We eventually fell asleep tangled together, the cool mountain breeze drifting through the cracked window.
(Next morning)
I woke up to the sound of... aggressive splashing?
I blinked, squinting at the sunlight. Beside me, Keifer was already gone. I threw on a robe and stepped out onto our balcony which overlooked the hotel's private natural pool.
Down there, Keifer was looking like a literal Greek god in swim trunks, calmly sipping an espresso. Meanwhile, Keigan was currently trying to mount an inflatable flamingo while Keiren tried to drown him with a pool noodle.
"Morning, sunshine!" Keifer called up, flashing that blinding, perfect smile. "The 'Nature Boys' have already broken a lounge chair."
"I regret everything!" Keigan yelled, falling off the flamingo with a majestic splash.
I headed down for breakfast, which Keifer had already laid out. He pulled out my chair with a wink. "Blueberries for the lady. And Keigan, if you drip pool water on the sourdough, I'm extending the tech-ban by a week."
After breakfast, Keifer decided we were going "tracking."
"It's called trekking, Keifer," Keiren corrected, adjusting his designer backpack.
"Whatever it is, we're doing it," Keifer said, helping me lace up my boots. He literally knelt on the dirt to double-knot them for me.
The hike was a comedy of errors. Keigan thought every rustle in the bushes was a bear (it was usually a squirrel), and Keiren kept complaining that the dirt was "too dusty."
When we reached a steep rock face for the climbing portion, I froze. I'm not exactly Spider-Man.
"I've got you, Jay," Keifer said, his voice steady. He stayed right behind me the whole time, his hand hovering near my waist to steady me. "Left foot there. You're doing great. Look at you, a regular mountain goat."
"A mountain goat? Real romantic, Keifer," I panted.
"The prettiest goat in the range," he teased, giving my moves a supportive (and slightly inappropriate) pat.
He supported me by placing his hands where he shouldn't, you know what.
By the time we hit the lake for a late afternoon swim, the trauma of the past few days felt a million miles away. Keifer dunked Keigan, I splashed Keiren, and for a few hours, we weren't people recovering from a "Kaizer" monster—we were just a family being loud, messy, and happy.
As the sun set, Keifer wrapped a warm towel around my shoulders, pulling me into his side as we watched the boys try to start a campfire with way too much enthusiasm.
"Better?" he asked.
"Much better," I smiled. "Best engagement gift ever."
The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the forest in a deep, velvety purple. Keifer, ever the overachiever, decided that a "real" trip required a "real" fire.
"Step aside, amateurs," Keifer said, shooing Keiren and Keigan away from the stone fire pit. He had his sleeves rolled up, looking like a rugged outdoorsman from a catalog. "I watched a documentary on primitive survival once. We don't need those chemical fire-starters."
I sat on a log, wrapped in a fluffy blanket, watching the three of them. It was like watching a very expensive comedy routine.
"Keifer, that's just a pile of damp leaves," Keiren pointed out, poking the mound with a stick. "You're essentially making a salad, not a fire."
"It's about the airflow, Keiren," Keifer snapped, though he was currently red-faced from blowing on a tiny spark. "Jay, watch this. Your fiancé is a master of the elements."
He gave one final, Herculean blow. Instead of a majestic flame, a massive puff of thick, grey smoke billowed directly into his face. Keifer emerged coughing, his forehead streaked with soot, looking less like a CEO and more like a chimney sweep.
"Master of the elements?" Keigan cackled, clutching his stomach. "You look like a sad charcoal drawing!"
"The wind shifted!" Keifer defended, trying to wipe his face but only making the black streaks worse. He looked at me, totally defeated. "Jay, tell them the wind shifted."
"The wind definitely shifted," I said, trying—and failing—to hide my laugh. "But maybe the 'master of elements' should use the lighter Keiren has in his pocket?"
Keifer glared at Keiren. "You had a lighter this whole time?"
"You said you wanted to be primitive!" Keiren defended, flicking the lighter. Click. A perfect flame.
Finally, the fire was roaring. Keifer regained his dignity by meticulously roasting the "perfect" marshmallow for me. He held it out like it was a piece of fine jewelry. "For you. Slightly charred, gooey center. Just like our life together."
"Sooty and chaotic?" I teased, taking a bite.
"Exactly." He leaned in, ignoring the boys' fake gagging noises, and kissed my temple. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."
As the fire crackled, Keiren actually fell asleep sitting up, his head lolling onto Keigan's shoulder. Keifer pulled me closer, the heat of the fire on our faces and the mountain air chilling our backs. It was the first time in days I didn't feel like looking over my shoulder.
"Wait until we get home," Keifer whispered, his eyes dancing with a secret. "I have one more surprise waiting for you three."
"Is it a fire extinguisher?" Keigan mumbled, half-awake.
Keifer kicked his sneaker lightly. "Go to sleep, kid. Tomorrow, we go home."
The drive back was filled with Keigan's loud snoring and Keiren's running commentary on how "mountain air" had ruined his hair.
Keifer remained suspiciously calm, his hand resting on my knee, tapping a rhythmic beat against the steering wheel.
"You're awfully quiet," I whispered as we pulled into the driveway. "Planning another fire?"
"Ha-ha. Very funny," he smirked, killling the engine. "Just making sure I remember where I parked the 'elements.'"
As we walked toward the front door, the house looked dark. But the moment Keifer pushed the door open, the entire ground floor erupted in light and sound.
"SURPRISE!"
I jumped nearly a foot into the air, while Keigan—true to form—immediately grabbed a decorative umbrella from the stand like it was a weapon.
"Relax, Keigan, it's just people!" Keifer laughed, putting an arm around me.
The entire living room had been transformed. Thousands of white roses draped from the ceiling, and a jazz band was tucked into the corner playing a soft, upbeat melody. Our closest friends and the extended family were all there, dressed to the nines.
I looked down at my leggings and oversized "Forest Retreat" sweatshirt. Then I looked at Keifer, who had somehow managed to look perfectly groomed despite the soot stains I knew were still behind his ears.
"Keifer! I'm wearing a sweatshirt with a pancake stain on it!" I hissed, mortified.
"You look beautiful," he said, completely unfazed. He snapped his fingers, and two stylists I recognized from the city's top salon appeared out of thin air. "Ladies, ten minutes? There's a dress in the bedroom."
Ten minutes later, I emerged in a floor-length emerald silk gown that fit like a second skin. As I descended the stairs, the room went quiet. Keifer was waiting at the bottom, looking every bit the billionaire gentleman, holding a glass of vintage champagne.
He took my hand, his eyes softening. "I wanted to replace the memory of that 'knock at the door' with this one," he said loudly enough for the room to hear. "To Jay—the woman who handles vases and villains with equal grace."
The room cheered. Even Alex was there, standing awkwardly in a corner with a bandage on his head, waving a tiny appetizer at us. Keigan went over and gave him a high-five, finally over the trauma now that there was a chocolate fountain involved.
The night was a blur of dancing and laughter. Keifer never left my side, acting as a human shield against any over-eager relatives and making sure my glass was never empty.
"You really outdid yourself," I said, leaning my head on his shoulder as we took a break from the dance floor.
"Well," he whispered, pulling me closer. "I had to make up for the smoke-bomb fire and the 'mountain goat' comment somehow."
"You're forgiven," I laughed, kissing him. "As long as the next surprise doesn't involve a tent."
The music softened to a gentle hum as Keifer stepped onto the small stage, tapping his glass with a silver spoon. The room fell silent, the glow of a thousand roses reflecting in the champagne flutes.
Keifer looked at me, and for a second, it felt like the dozens of guests in the room had simply vanished. He wasn't the "Master of Elements" or the soot-covered hiker anymore; he was just my Keifer.
"Most of you know," he began, his voice deep and steady, "that the last few days haven't been easy. We've faced shadows we thought were long gone. But standing here tonight, looking at Jay, I realized something important."
He stepped off the stage and walked toward me, taking my hands in his.
"I used to think being a 'gentleman' was about the right suits, the right cars, or throwing the right parties," he said, a small, self-deprecating smile playing on his lips.
"But I learned this weekend that it's actually about being the person who stays. The person who holds the flashlight when it's dark, who helps you climb when you're tired, and who loves you even when you're wearing a pancake-stained sweatshirt."
A few people chuckled, but I felt the sting of happy tears in my eyes. Keiren was uncharacteristically quiet, and even Keigan had paused his assault on the appetizer tray, looking unusually misty-eyed.
"Jay," Keifer continued, his gaze intense. "You are my home. Not this house, not the company—just you. Thank you for choosing me, even when life gets messy. Especially when life gets messy."
He raised his glass. "To Jay. My partner, my protector, and the love of my life."
"To Jay!" the room echoed in a roar of celebration.
I leaned in, whispering against his lips as the applause swelled around us. "That was a very gentlemanly move, Mr. CEO."
"I have my moments," he winked, pulling me into a slow dance as the band started to play our song. Across the room, I saw Keigan finally lose his battle with the chocolate fountain, getting a glob of it on his tie, while Keiren tried to clean it with a silk napkin.
For the first time in a long time, everything was exactly as it should be.
The last guest finally left, and the house fell into a blissful, heavy silence. Keiren and Keigan had already retreated to their rooms, exhausted from a night of dancing and chocolate-fountain antics.
Keifer loosened his tie, the silk hanging undone around his neck, and looked at me with a dark, intense hunger that made my breath hitch. "Finally," he whispered, his voice dropping an octave. "I've been wanting to get you alone since the moment you walked down those stairs in that dress."
He didn't wait for an answer. He swept me up into his arms, my silk gown rustling against his suit, and carried me up the stairs. The moment the bedroom door clicked shut, the "gentleman" persona vanished, replaced by pure, raw passion.
(Author's POV)
The door clicked shut, and the noise of the party finally faded into a distant hum. Keifer turned to Jay, the poise he had maintained all evening softening into something much more personal. He stepped closer, taking Jay's hands in his, and for a long moment, they simply stood there, finally enjoying the quiet.
"You were incredible tonight," Keifer whispered, leaning in to rest his forehead against Jay's.
Jay smiled, feeling the tension of the long day melt away. "It was a lot, but I'm glad we're finally alone."
Keifer leaned in, capturing Jay's lips in a long, lingering kiss that spoke of everything they hadn't been able to say in a room full of people. It was a slow, steady embrace, full of the warmth and relief of being back together.
Keifer and Jay moved closer to one another, the shared look between them speaking volumes more than words ever could. In the soft light of the room, they helped each other settle in, shedding the formal attire of the evening until they were comfortable and at ease.
The transition from the public eye to this private space felt like a relief, allowing them to focus entirely on their connection.
They eventually found their way to the bed, sharing a long moment of closeness. The evening's events seemed far away as they talked and laughed softly, eventually drifting into a quiet embrace. There was a profound sense of peace in the room, a stark contrast to the busy party they had just left behind.
Keifer's hands moved to the back of Jay's dress, slowly working the zipper down. Jay helped him pull his jacket off his shoulders and unbuttoned his shirt, tosssing the formal clothes onto a chair. Soon, they were both free of the heavy evening wear, feeling the cool air against their skin before the heat of their bodies took over.
They moved toward the bed, the quiet of the room replaced by the sound of their shared laughter and soft whispers. The kiss they shared was slow and meaningful, a release of all the energy from the night's events.
Keifer held Jay closely, as if making up for all the hours they had spent apart in the crowded ballroom, while Jay leaned into his warmth, finally feeling at peace.
They spent a long time simply talking and enjoying each other's company without the pressure of the party or the watchful eyes of guests. The intensity of the evening faded into a gentle, romantic closeness that felt far more significant than any formal event.
Eventually, they settled under the covers, the room falling into a comfortable silence. Keifer pulled the blanket over them both, making sure Jay was tucked in close to his chest.
"I love you, Jay," Keifer murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
"I love you too," Jay whispered back, finally falling into a deep, peaceful sleep.
(Next day)
(Jay's POV)
I woke up to the smell of something burning and the distinct sound of a fire alarm being muffled by what I assumed was a sofa cushion.
I looked at Keifer, who was still fast asleep, looking like a literal angel. I, on the other hand, probably looked like a bird's nest that had survived a hurricane. I poked his cheek.
"Hey, 'Master of Elements,' your brothers are currently reenacting the Great Fire of London in our kitchen."
Keifer groaned, pulling the duvet over his head. "If the house burns down, we'll just live in the garden. Tell them to keep it down."
"Coward," I whispered.
I threw on his shirt—which was so big it looked like a tent—and walked out onto the balcony to get a breath of air before facing the chaos. The sunrise was gorgeous, all pinks and oranges, making me feel all sentimental and romantic. Then, the balcony door creaked.
Keifer stumbled out, looking half-conscious but still somehow incredibly hot with his messy hair and sleepy eyes. He wrapped his arms around me, burying his face in my neck.
"Five more minutes of peace?" he mumbled.
"Keifer, I think Keigen is trying to fry an egg with a hairdryer. I can hear the whirring."
He squeezed me tighter. "Ignore it. If we don't acknowledge them, they don't exist. This is a scientific fact."
I laughed, leaning back against his chest. "You're a terrible role model."
"I'm a gentleman," he corrected, kissing my temple. "And a gentleman stays with his fiancée while his brothers accidentally dismantle the kitchen. It's in the handbook."
Just then, a voice drifted up from the garden below. It was Keiren, looking up at us while holding a very charred piece of sourdough.
"Oh, look! The lovebirds are awake! Keifer, the toaster is making a whistling sound. Is it supposed to do that?"
Keifer didn't even open his eyes. He just raised a hand and gave them a thumbs-up. "If it's whistling, it's happy, Keiren! Leave us alone!"
I snorted. "You're a liar."
"I'm a man in love," he whispered, turning me around to give me a proper, slow morning kiss that made me forget all about the whistling toaster. "And I'm not letting you go until I get at least one more hour of quiet."
"Good luck with that," I said, but I wrapped my arms around his neck anyway. If the house was going down, at least I was going down with the best-looking guy in the room.
I finally dragged Keifer downstairs, mostly because I was worried Keigen would try to "cook" the curtains next.
The kitchen looked like a battlefield. There was flour on the ceiling—don't ask me how—and Keiren was trying to flip a pancake using two forks and a prayer. Keigen was sitting at the table, looking traumatized by a bowl of cereal that had somehow caught fire.
"Morning, survivors," I said, dodging a stray blueberry.
"Jay! Thank god," Keigen gasped, pointing at Keifer. "Tell your husband-to-be that Keiren is banned from using the stove. He tried to sauté the orange juice."
"I was trying to make a reduction!" Keiren defended, waving a spatula like a sword.
Keifer, now fully awake and in "big brother" mode, just sighed and took the spatula out of Keiren's hand. "Everyone, sit. If I let you two continue, we'll be eating the drywall for breakfast."
I sat at the counter, watching Keifer work. This was the 'gentleman' in his natural habitat—fixing everyone's messes with a smirk. He moved around the kitchen with professional grace, cracking eggs with one hand while simultaneously batting Keigen's hand away from the bacon.
"So," Keiren said, leaning over to me and whispering loudly. "Did you guys 'sleep' well? Or was the mountain air just that thin?"
I nearly choked on my coffee. Keifer didn't even look up from the pan. "Keiren, if you finish that sentence, I'm making you eat the charred sourdough from the garden."
"I'm just saying!" Keiren smirked, winking at me. "The walls in that hotel weren't exactly soundproof, Jay."
I felt my face turn a shade of red that matched the strawberry jam. I threw a napkin at him. "Eat your eggs and shut up, Keiren."
"See?" Keifer said, sliding a perfectly folded omelet onto my plate and kissing the top of my head. "She handles villains and annoying brothers with equal grace."
We all sat together, the four of us, eating and bickering. For a moment, it was easy to forget about the gunmen, the hospital, and the 'Kaizer' mess. It was just us—one tired CEO, two chaotic brothers, and me, trying to figure out how we were going to get the flour off the ceiling.
"Wait," Keigan said, looking around. "Where's the dog? Did we leave the dog at the hotel?"
Keifer paused, fork halfway to his mouth. "Keigan... we don't have a dog."
"Oh. Right. Maybe we should get one? To protect us from Alex's next visit?"
"No more visitors," Keifer said firmly, reaching over to squeeze my hand under the table. "Just us."