(Jay's POV)
A few days later, my "monthly visitor" finally packed its bags and left. For the first time since landing in London, I woke up without feeling like a brick was sitting on my stomach.
"Jay! Wake up! We are officially late for our first real day at LSE!" Keifer's voice boomed through the room.
I opened one eye. The sun was shining, and Keifer was already fully dressed in a crisp white shirt and dark trousers. He looked like he stepped out of a magazine, but he was currently panicking because he couldn't find his favorite silver cufflinks.
"Chaos," I mumbled, pulling the duvet over my head. "London is cancelled. Go back to sleep."
"Not happening," he said. He literally peeled me out of bed like a banana. "I already made coffee. I even picked out an outfit for you because I knew you'd be a zombie."
He pointed to the chair. He had laid out a cute skirt, a warm turtleneck, and my boots. He even put a little hair clip on top.
"Look at you, Mr. Stylist," I giggled, stumbling toward the bathroom.
The morning was a total mess. I accidentally put salt in my coffee instead of sugar, and Keifer spent five minutes fighting with a toaster that didn't understand his "high standards." We were running around the three-story house like contestants on a game show.
"Where is my bag?" I yelled from the second floor.
"I have it!" Keifer yelled back. "And don't worry—I took the 'emergency supplies' out of the side pocket so David doesn't have a heart attack today."
We finally burst out of the house and made it to the London School of Economics (LSE). The campus was beautiful—old brick buildings mixed with modern glass, and students everywhere speaking a dozen different languages. It felt big and intimidating.
As we walked through the main gates, I tripped slightly on the uneven cobblestones. Before I could even wobble, Keifer's hand was firmly under my elbow. He didn't just catch me; he tucked my arm into his and kept me steady.
"Steady, Marshmallow," he teased, walking with his chest out. "We have to look like we own the place."
"You're only acting cool because you want to impress the professors," I whispered.
"I don't need to impress them. I'm a Watson," he joked, but then he did something super sweet. He stopped in the middle of the crowded square, fixed my hair clip, and kissed my forehead. "Ready to be the smartest girl in London?"
"Only if you promise not to correct the teacher in the first five minutes," I replied.
Mark Keifer Watson—yes, in his full, fancy aura —just gave me a look. "Jay wifey, I can't make promises I can't keep. If the professor is wrong, it's my civic duty to help him."
I rolled my eyes. Typical Keifer.
The LSE campus was amazing. It felt like being in a movie about really smart people. Since my period was finally over, I felt light and ready to go, though my brain was still a bit foggy from the morning coffee disaster (note to self: salt and coffee do not mix).
We walked into the huge lecture hall. It was filled with hundreds of students. For the first time, it was just us. No David, no Section E, no siblings. Just the two of us against the London academic world.
"Look," Keifer whispered, pointing to the very back. "The 'lazy' seats. Perfect for people who want to sleep."
"And the 'smart' seats are at the front," I said, pointing to the first row.
Keifer grabbed my hand and started leading me to the very front. "We are Watsons and Marianos, Jay. We sit where the action is."
As I tried to sit down, my bag strap got caught on the armrest. I did a weird little stumble-dance, almost landing in a random guy's lap. Keifer moved faster than a cat. He caught my waist, pulled me back toward him, and unhooked my bag with one hand while holding me steady with the other.
"Careful, Jasper Jean," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. He set my bag down perfectly and pulled out my chair like we were at a five-star restaurant instead of a boring classroom. "I can't have you falling for other guys. It's bad for my ego."
"I was hardly falling for him," I huffed, sitting down. "I was falling for the floor."
"The floor is also a rival," he joked, sitting next to me.
The professor walked in—a very serious-looking man with a thick British accent. He started talking about global economics, and I could practically see the "Smart Mode" activating in Keifer's brain. He opened his notebook and started writing so fast I thought the paper might catch fire.
But then, the professor said something about "market stability."
I saw Keifer's hand twitch. He cleared his throat. He leaned toward me and whispered, "He's using the 2018 model. That's outdated. Should I tell him?"
"Keifer, no," I hissed, grabbing his arm. "It's been ten minutes. Do not be that guy."
He looked at the professor, then at my hand on his arm. He let out a long sigh, looking like a kid who was told he couldn't have candy. "Fine. I'll let him live... for now."
I tried to focus on the professor, but it was hard because I could hear whispering coming from the row of girls sitting right behind us.
"Oh my god, look at him," one girl whispered. "Who is that? He looks like a model."
"The jawline? The glasses? He's gorgeous," another one hissed. "But who's the girl? Is she his sister? Or his girlfriend? She's so lucky."
I looked at Keifer. He was staring at the board, looking all intense and handsome, totally ignoring the fact that half the girls in the room were drooling over him. I felt a little prickle of pride—and a lot of "stay away" energy.
When the lecture finally ended, I started packing my bag. Suddenly, a group of four girls swarmed our desk like hungry sharks. They completely pushed me aside, forcing me away from Keifer.
"Hi! Are you new here?" one girl asked Keifer, tossing her hair and leaning over his notebook. "I'm Sarah. We have a study group if you're interested."
Keifer didn't even look at her paper. His eyes stayed locked on me. He didn't flinch, didn't smile at them, nothing. He just waited for me to get through the crowd.
Suddenly, one girl—the one who looked the most annoyed—turned to me. "Ugh, can you move? You're just standing there like an attention seeker," she snapped. Before I could even blink, she reached out, yanked my hair, and gave me a sharp slap across the face.
The room went silent. I felt the sting on my cheek, and for a second, my brain stopped.
Keifer's face went from "cool CEO" to "scary monster" in half a second. He stood up, his chair screeching back, his hands balled into fists. He was about to explode.
But I got there first.
WHACK!
I swung my hand and slapped the girl back so hard her head snapped to the side. The sound echoed in the quiet hall. Everyone gasped.
"Listen to me," I said, my voice low and dangerous. I stepped right into her space. "This 'hot guy' is Mark Keifer Watson. And I am Jasper Jean Mariano. We aren't just dating—we are fiancés. If any of you touch me or try to flirt with my man again, you'll find out exactly how much of an 'attention seeker' I can be. Got it?"
The girl looked terrified. She grabbed her bag and scrambled away, her friends following her like scared kittens.
I turned back to Keifer, my heart still racing. He was standing there, looking at me with the biggest, proudest smirk I had ever seen. He didn't look mad that I caused a scene; he looked like he wanted to give me a trophy.
"That's my girl," he murmured. He stepped forward, tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and kissed my burning cheek. "I didn't know you had a 'Scary Jay' mode. I think I like it."
"Nobody touches my fiancé," I muttered, still huffing.
"Good to know," he chuckled, grabbing my bag and looping his arm tightly around my waist. "Now, let's go get lunch before you decide to fight the Dean."
Just as we were heading for the exit, two campus security guards blocked our path. "Mr. Watson, Ms. Mariano? The Principal wants to see you in his office. Now."
I looked at Keifer. He didn't look worried; he looked annoyed that his lunch was being delayed.
Inside the office, Sarah was already there, crying fake tears and holding her red cheek. The Principal, a stern man in a grey suit, looked at us with a scowl.
"I won't have violence at LSE!" he shouted, pointing a finger at me. "Ms. Mariano, you slapped a student. Do you know how much trouble you are in? You are just a girl from abroad, and Sarah's family helps this school. I think a suspension is necessary."
Keifer stepped forward, his body shielding me. His "gentleman" vibe was gone, replaced by a cold, sharp energy. "She slapped Jay first. She pulled her hair. My fiancé was defending herself."
The Principal waved his hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter. You are both just students here. Don't underestimate my power to kick you out."
Keifer suddenly went very still. He tilted his head, his eyes turning ice-cold. "Maybe you've been in this office too long," Keifer said, his voice quiet but terrifying. "Maybe you forgot who you are talking to. My name is Mark Keifer Watson. Does that name ring a bell, or do I need to call my Enterprises to remind you?"
The Principal froze. His face went from angry red to ghost white in three seconds.
"Watson? As in... the Watson Global Group? The youngest CEO that just funded the new library wing?"
Keifer didn't answer. He just stared at him with a bored expression.
The Principal began to stumble over his words, his hands shaking. "I—I am so sorry! Mr. Watson! I didn't realize... I mean, I didn't connect the name..."
Sarah stopped crying instantly. Her eyes went wide as she stared at Keifer. "W-Watson?" she whispered, looking like she wanted to disappear through the floor.
The Principal then turned his anger toward Sarah. "Sarah! How dare you! You attacked this young lady?" He turned back to us, bowing his head slightly. "Please, forgive me. And I should mention to everyone," he looked at Sarah sternly, "that this isn't just any girl. She is the fiancé of Mr. Watson and the CEO of the Mariano and Fernandez Corporation. She is a power player in her own right."
The Principal looked at me with total respect. "Sarah, you are the one suspended. Never mess with the Watson-Mariano power couple again!"
Keifer looked at me and winked. "Ready for lunch now, CEO?"
"Definitely," I said, holding my head high as we walked out, leaving the Principal still apologizing to the empty air.
We walked out of the Principal's office like we were walking down a runway. Keifer didn't just walk next to me; he tucked his hand firmly into mine, interlacing our fingers so everyone could see my engagement ring sparkling in the hallway lights.
"Head up, Jay ," he whispered with a smirk. "Let's give them something to talk about."
As we strolled through the main campus square, the news had already spread. The "LSE jungle telegraph" was fast. Students who were whispering about us earlier now stepped aside, making a wide path for us. I could hear the hushed voices as we passed.
"That's her," a guy whispered. "She's the one who slapped Sarah. And she's a CEO!"
"And look at him," a girl sighed. "He didn't even look at the other girls. He only has eyes for her."
Keifer pulled me closer, his arm wrapping around my waist. He looked like a king protecting his queen. He stopped right in the middle of the busiest part of the square, where everyone could see us. He leaned down, ignoring the hundreds of eyes, and kissed me deeply. It wasn't a quick peck; it was a "this-is-my-woman" kind of kiss.
I pulled back, blushing but feeling like a total boss. "Keifer! Everyone is staring!"
"Let them," he said, loud enough for the people nearby to hear. "I want every person in this city to know that Jasper Jean Mariano belongs with Mark Keifer Watson. Besides, I think the 'Power Couple' needs to maintain their image."
We spent the rest of the afternoon walking hand-in-hand. Keifer was being his usual gentleman self—opening every door, carrying my bag, and making sure I was on the inside of the sidewalk—but now, he had this extra "aura" of pride.
By the time we reached our favorite spot for lunch, we weren't just two new students anymore. We were the legendary couple that had already taken down a bully and scared the Principal in a single morning.
"So," Keifer said, sitting across from me and finally ordering those famous scones. "First day of school wasn't too boring, was it?"
"If every day is going to involve a slap and a power move, I'm going to need more coffee," I laughed, finally relaxing.
Then the day finally ended, we returned back to our house, our home!!
The townhouse was finally quiet. Keifer carried me into our beautiful bathroom and started a warm bath. As we sat in the bubbles, he pulled me close and sighed against my neck.
"Jay-Jay, do you have any idea how hard it's been?" he whispered. "I've been trying so hard to be a 'gentleman nurse' for the past seven days while you were on your period, but I'm reaching my limit."
I giggled, splashing a bit of water at him. "You did a great job, Mark Keifer."
"The job is over," he smirked, lifting me out of the tub.
We dried off and practically dove into the big, soft bed. Keifer leaned over me, his eyes full of love and... other things. He started to kiss me, and things were getting really heated when—RING! RING!
"No," Keifer groaned into my shoulder. "I'm going to throw that phone into the Thames."
It was a FaceTime from Keigan and Keiren. He had to answer.
"Kuya! Ate Jay!" the twins screamed. "How was LSE? Did Kuya get arrested for being too bossy? Ate Jay, are you okay? Is he making you do his homework?"
"I am a CEO and a Watson, I don't need help with homework!" Keifer barked.
"Whatever, Kuya," Keiren rolled his eyes. "Ate Jay, if he's being a 'mosquito' and annoying you, just tell us. We'll fly to London and put him in a timeout. You look way too tired—he must be talking your ear off about economics."
"He's worse than a mosquito," Keiren chimed in, shaking his head. "He's like a giant, grumpy owl. Ate, look at his eyes—he's clearly planning how to organize your pens alphabetically. Run while you can!"
"I am right here, you little monsters!" Keifer snapped, trying to grab the phone.
"Don't yell at us, Kuya! We're calling to check on Ate Jay's mental health," Keigan teased.
"Living with you must be like living in a library with a very loud security guard. Ate, does he still do that weird thing where he checks the tea temperature with a thermometer? Or does he just hover over you until you tell him to go away?"
"He does both," I giggled, and Keifer let out a frustrated huff, burying his face in his hands while the twins spent ten more minutes explaining why I deserved a "patience medal" for engaging with him.
After ten minutes of them defending me and roasting Keifer's "stressed-out husband" face, the call finally ended. Keifer tossed the phone. "Okay. Round two."
But before Keifer could even move, the Section E group FaceTime exploded. It was pure chaos.
The Section E FaceTime wasn't just the London crew—it was a full-blown international disaster. The screen was split into so many tiny boxes I could barely see anyone.
"ATTENTION! THE QUEEN HAS ARRIVED!" Ci-n's voice boomed through the phone. He was on the screen holding a chicken wing like a microphone, looking totally chaotic. "Jay-Jay! I heard you slapped that girl so hard her ancestors felt it! That's my girl! And look at Keifer... why is he shirtless and looking like a grumpy puppy? Is he still in his 'controlling' phase?"
"Ci-n, shut up!" Keifer snapped, but he was blushing a deep red.
"Oh, don't 'shut up' me, Mark Keifer Watson!" Rory popped into the frame next to him, grinning. "We all heard the drama. You were acting like a bodyguard at the university! Did you really carry her pads in your fancy bag? Man, you've really traded your CEO title for 'Personal Assistant.'"
"He's not an assistant, he's a butler!" Eman shouted, laughing in the background. "Jay, does he still do that thing where he follows you around making sure you aren't too cold? I bet he has a thermal blanket in his bag next to the supplies!"
"It was heavy-duty pads, actually," David corrected him, making everyone on the screen howl.
"Seven days of being a gentleman!" Ci-n teased, pointing his chicken wing at the camera. "And now he thinks he's finally getting his reward. Look at his face—he's so mad we're ruining the mood! Keifer, give it up. You're a engaged man now, your life is just one long family meeting!"
The teasing went on for what felt like hours. Every time Keifer tried to say something cool, Eman, Rory, and Ci-n would bring up his "bird-nest" hair or his "CEO Nurse" mode. Finally, Keifer just hit the 'End Call' button with a heavy sigh.
"I hate them. I hate all of them," he muttered, pulling me into his arms. He tucked his head into my neck. "Jay, I've been so patient. Seven days. No more David, no more Ci-n. Just you and—"
Vrrr... Vrrr...
My phone lit up. It was Kuya Angelo.
"Answer it," Keifer whispered against my skin, sounding totally defeated. "If you don't, he'll probably call the British Army."
"Jay!" Ion's voice was bright and teasing through the phone. She leaned back so we could see her pregnant belly. "Tell me the truth—is there going to be a little Watson running around London soon? My baby needs a cousin to cause trouble with!"
"Ion! Don't start!" I squealed, hiding my face.
Kuya Angelo immediately pulled Ion back and pointed a finger at the camera. "Ion, stop giving them ideas! And Keifer, I see you. If my sister gets pregnant before she even finishes her first week of classes, you are a dead man. I don't care if you're a Watson!"
Aries popped up next to them, looking super serious. "He's right. Keifer, keep your 'control' in check. Jay needs to focus on her books, not baby clothes."
Then Tita and Lola pushed their way in. "Oh, look at Ion's belly! So healthy," Lola smiled. "But Keifer, you look very frustrated. Do you have a headache? Maybe you should go take a cold shower like I said. Let Jay sleep. She's a growing girl, she needs her rest!"
Keifer let out a long, loud groan and buried his face in my neck. Our "romantic night" had turned into a full family meeting with my pregnant sister-in-law, my scary brothers, and my sweet, confused Lola.
"I can't do this anymore," Keifer whispered into my skin. "Your family is a high-level security threat to my sanity."
He suddenly reached out, grabbed both of our phones, and clicked them off. He tossed them across the room into a basket of laundry.
"Finally," he breathed, the house going completely silent. He pulled me close, his eyes locking onto mine. "Now, where was I? Oh right... seven days of waiting. No more brothers, no more pregnant sisters-in-law, and definitely no more cold showers."
I giggled, wrapping my arms around his neck. "You're very dramatic, Mark Keifer Watson."
"I'm a man on a mission, Jay ," he whispered, leaning in for a kiss that definitely wasn't "gentlemanly" anymore.