Jay-Jay(POV)
I walked downstairs.
London sat in the back of my mind like a decision already made.
But how was I supposed to get there… without knowing anyone?
Kiegen and Kiran were already at the table, having breakfast like everything was normal.
I sat with them.
Nodded when they spoke.
Answered when needed.
But my mind wasn't there.
It was somewhere else—
Across cities. Across distance.
With him.
Then—
The doorbell rang.
Sharp enough to pull me back.
I stood up before anyone else could.
"Leave it, I'll get it," I said, already walking.
The hallway felt quieter than it should have.
I opened the door—
No one.
Just an envelope lying on the floor.
Waiting.
I picked it up slowly.
Turned it over.
No name.
No mark.
That alone made it wrong.
I opened it.
Inside—
An invitation.
From Watson's
Clean. Formal. Intentional.
And beneath it—
A plane ticket.
Already booked.
Already planned.
My grip tightened slightly.
I looked outside again.
Empty.
Then back to the envelope.
Once. Twice.
Searching for something more.
A clue. A name. A reason.
Nothing.
Just silence.
But that was enough.
Because whoever sent this—
Didn't want to be known.
They just wanted me to come.
"Ate… who came?" Kiegen asked.
"Nothing important," I said.
I didn't wait for more questions.
I turned and walked straight to my room.
Closed the door.
Locked it.
For a second, I just stood there—
Looking at the invitation again.
The ticket.
The timing.
Everything pointed to one place.
I pulled out my phone and called Clyden.
"Kuya…"
He picked up, but the background was loud—voices, music, and movement.
"Jay...I was a little busy," he said quickly. "I'll call you later."
The line cut.
But that was enough.
A party.
London.
An invitation was already waiting for me.
I didn't need more.
That's where Kiefer was.
I grabbed my passport.
My car keys.
Didn't pack anything else.
Didn't need to.
I walked back down the stairs—
And stopped.
Section E.
Already there.
Not scattered.
Not casual.
Positioned.
Waiting.
Like they knew.
Like they weren't going to let me walk out that door that easily.
"Jay… you looked like you were going somewhere," Yuri said.
Too sharp.
Too observant.
I didn't stop walking.
"I'm just not feeling well," I said.
"JAY!"
C-in's voice snapped through the air.
He rushed toward me, grabbing my shoulders—shaking me.
"Jay… are you okay? What's wrong?"
"Ouch—C-in, you're making it worse!" I snapped, trying to push him off.
Before he could react, Davide and Eman stepped in—pulling him away from me.
"C-in, she's pregnant. You're going to make it worse," Davide said sharply.
"You're going to hurt both of them," Eman added, his grip tightening on C-in's arm.
C-in froze.
Just for a second.
But that was enough.
"I'm not fragile!" I shot back, frustration spilling over. "This kid is overreacting—I'm fine!"
The words barely left my mouth before everything shifted.
Silence—tight, heavy, suffocating.
Then—
"Why?"
"What happened?"
"Is the baby okay?"
"Do we need to go to the hospital?"
Voices—too many, too fast.
All at once.
Voices overlapped.
Concern.
Suspicion.
Control.
I didn't answer all of them.
I just nodded.
Once.
Slow.
Careful.
Let them believe it.
"C-in, check on her," Rory said, shoving him forward.
"Exactly," Kit added under his breath.
"No!" I snapped.
Too fast.
Too loud.
Everyone went still.
Eyes on me.
"What happened?" yuri asked, already moving closer.
"Nothing," I said, forcing my voice back under control. "It's just a regular check for the baby. I'll go… I'll be back in an hour."
They exchanged looks.
Not convinced.
Good.
Let them question the reason—
Not the plan.
Yuri stepped forward immediately. "Fine. I'll take you to the hospital."
"No," I said. "I can go alone."
A pause.
Tension stretched tight.
"Jay… please," Felix said, softer this time. "We're coming."
Of course he would.
I held his gaze for a second—
Then nodded.
"Fine."
And just like that—
They closed in around me.
Not aggressively.
Not obviously.
But enough.
Enough to remind me—
I wasn't leaving unnoticed.
The hospital smelled too clean.
Too controlled.
Too safe.
Exactly what I needed.
They didn't let me out of their sight.
Not even for a second.
Until—
The doctor's room.
Yuri stayed near the door.
The others just outside.
Waiting.
Listening.
Watching.
The doctor looked at me, confused at first.
I met her eyes.
Held it.
"Help me," I said softly.
Not loud enough for anyone else to hear.
Her expression shifted.
Concern.
Then understanding.
"She needs rest," the doctor said louder, turning toward the door. "Stress-related. I'm admitting her for observation."
Perfect.
Yuri frowned slightly. "We'll stay—"
"No," the doctor cut in smoothly. "Only one person can remain. Hospital policy."
A pause.
Calculation.
Then—
"Fine," Yuri said. "Call us if anything changes."
The door closed.
Silence.
The second we were alone, the doctor turned back to me.
"You're not sick, are you?" she asked quietly.
"No," I said.
A beat.
"I need to leave."
She studied me for a moment.
Then nodded.
No questions.
No judgment.
Just action.
Back exit.
No cameras.
No noise.
A different set of clothes.
My phone in my hand—
Buzzing.
Constantly.
Kiran.
Kiegen
Section E.
Ignored.
All of it.
I stepped out of the hospital like I had never been there.
Like I hadn't just walked past everything meant to stop me.
Airport.
Crowded.
Loud.
Anonymous.
Perfect.
I didn't look back.
Didn't call.
Didn't message.
I boarded the flight with nothing but my phone, passport, and cash.
That was enough.
Because I wasn't running.
I was going somewhere.
Eight hours later—
London.
Cold air hit my face.
Sharp.
Real.
My phone buzzed again.
Relentless.
I finally glanced at it.
Missed calls.
Messages stacking over each other.
Where are you?
Jay, answer.
This isn't funny.
Pick up the phone.
I locked the screen.
Slipped it back into my pocket.
Because none of that mattered now.
I went straight to Kuya Clyden's house.
No questions.
No hesitation.
I walked in like I belonged there.
My room was exactly the same.
Untouched.
Like time had been waiting for me to come back.
I closed the door behind me and leaned against it for a second—
Just one.
Then I moved.
Quick.
Focused.
I freshened up, washing away the travel, the exhaustion, and the noise in my head.
When I stepped out, my eyes went straight to the wardrobe.
And there it was.
The red dress.
The one Kuya bought me last year.
My fingers brushed over the fabric for a second before I picked it up.
Back then, it felt like a gift.
Now?
It felt like armor.
I put it on.
It fit perfectly.
Of course it did.
I stood in front of the mirror for a moment.
Not fixing anything.
Not adjusting.
Just looking.
This wasn't the girl who left.
This was someone who came back with a purpose.
I walked downstairs.
Calm.
Steady.
Like I wasn't about to walk into something dangerous.
I picked up one of the car keys from the table.
No one stopped me.
No one questioned me.
That almost made it worse.
The engine started smoothly.
The road stretched ahead.
London lights blurred past as I drove.
Fast enough to get there.
Slow enough to think.
But I didn't.
Because thinking wasn't needed anymore.
I already knew where I was going.
Watson Mansion.
Where everything was happening.
Where he was.
My grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
Not fear.
No doubt.
Something sharper.
"Let's see the truth," I murmured.
And I drove straight into it.
The moment I stepped inside—
Jare and Percy appeared.
Too fast.
Too ready.
"Why are you here?" they asked at the same time.
I folded my arms, tilting my head slightly.
"Should I be asking that?"
A flicker passed between them.
Jare recovered first. "Jay… this isn't a good place to talk. Let's go home."
His hand reached for my arm.
I stepped back before he could touch me.
"I need to see Kiefer," I said. "Where is he?"
Silence.
A glance.
Quick. Tense.
"He's in a meeting," Jare said.
"He's not here," Percy said.
At the same time.
Different answers.
My eyes narrowed slightly.
There it is.
Lie.
Or worse—
A rushed one.
Suspicion settled in, sharp and immediate.
"You both should've decided on one answer," I said quietly.
Neither of them replied.
Good.
That told me enough.
I didn't wait.
Didn't argue.
I just walked past them.
Straight inside.
"Jay—" Aries called.
I didn't stop.
Because whatever they were trying to hide—
I was already too close.
The mansion felt different from the inside.
Too polished.
Too controlled.
Like every smile was placed exactly where it needed to be.
My eyes scanned everything.
Faces.
Movements.
Exits.
And then—
I saw them.
Clyden Kuya
Cole kuya
Angelo kuya
Walking deeper inside.
Not toward the main hall.
Somewhere quieter.
Private.
Important.
My steps slowed for just a second.
Then continued.
Because instinct didn't hesitate.
And neither did I.
I followed them.
Silent.
Unnoticed.
Or maybe—
Not stopped.
Which was worse.
The further I went, the quieter it got.
Music faded.
Voices thinned.
Until it was just footsteps.
And something heavier underneath it.
My heartbeat didn't change.
But my focus sharpened.
Because whatever they were walking toward—
That's where Kiefer was.
And something told me—
I wasn't going to like what I found.
When Clyden Kuya saw me—
He moved first.
Too fast.
He pulled me into a hug.
Tight.
Restraining more than welcoming.
"Why are you here?" he said low and urgently. "You can't be here right now."
I pulled back immediately.
My eyes searched his face.
"Why are you trying to hide it?" I asked. "Where is Kiefer?"
"Jay… Kiefer is not here," Cole said.
Lie.
I heard it before I proved it.
Because right then—
A voice.
Muffled.
From behind a closed door.
Kiefer.
My head turned instantly.
The entire hallway went still.
Too still.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
That silence said more than anything they could've answered.
I looked at them.
One by one.
Clyden. Cole.angelo
Everyone.
And then—
I walked.
Straight toward the door.
"Jay—" someone called.
I didn't stop.
My hand reached for the handle—
The second I touched it—
The door opened.
A woman stepped out.
Breath uneven.
Eyes shaken.
The clothes were disturbed.
She froze the moment she saw me.
And in that one second—
Everything clicked.
Not slowly.
Not carefully.
All at once.
My gaze shifted past her—
Into the room.
And whatever I was about to see—
I was already too late to unsee it.
Kiefer stepped out behind her.
His shirt is buttoned open.
Hair—disheveled.
Her scent—on him.
Too close.
Too obvious.
Too wrong.
"Jay… why are you here?" he asked, reaching for me.
I stepped back before he could touch me.
Instinct.
Sharp. Immediate.
"Don't come near me," I said coldly.
Because in that moment—
He didn't feel like my Kiefer.
He stopped.
Completely.
Like something in him locked in place.
His hand hung mid-air—
Then stilled.
His expression—
Not guilt.
Not anger.
Something worse.
Hesitation.
And I felt it.
That single step I took back—
It didn't just create distance.
It landed.
Like a blade.
Straight through him.
I saw it in his eyes.
The way they shifted.
The way something broke was quiet, controlled, but real.
And for a second—
Just a second—
Something inside me wavered.
Because he looked hurt.
Not defensive.
Not caught.
Hurt.
But I shut it down.
Immediately.
Because what I saw—
What I walked into—
Didn't leave space for doubt.
Only conclusions.
Only distance.
And I wasn't about to let him close it.
I shifted my gaze to the woman beside him.
"Who are you?" I asked.
She was already shaking.
Eyes wide. Breath uneven.
"I… I didn't—" she stammered.
Slap.
The sound cracked through the room.
"Say it properly."
My voice didn't rise—
It dropped.
Worse.
Colder.
My eyes locked onto hers, sharp enough to cut.
"Who. Are you?"
She broke under it.
"I—I was told—" her voice trembled, falling apart.
"Jay… stop," Kiefer said, stepping closer.
I shoved him.
Hard.
"Don't fucking touch me, Kiefer…" I snapped.
My chest tightened.
"…before I lose my mind."
My voice shook at the edges—
Not weak.
Just… too full.
I couldn't look at him.
I refused to.
Because seeing him like this—
Standing next to another woman—
Her scent on him instead of his—
It felt wrong in a way I couldn't even explain.
Like something that belonged to me—
It was suddenly not mine.
And that?
That hurt more than anger ever could.
So I kept my eyes on her—
even as she ran.
I couldn't stop her.
Didn't even try.
Because I saw it.
Faint, dark finger marks pressed into her neck—
like someone had tried to choke the life out of her.
My chest went tight.
My hands curled.
I knew who did that.
And for a second—
everything else stopped mattering.
Because looking at him—
Would break something I wasn't ready to face.
He couldn't stand.
Not properly.
His body gave in before his will did.
Clyden—Kuya—caught him, holding him up before he hit the ground.
"Jay…" he called.
I didn't want to look.
But I did.
And that was my mistake.
His eyes—
Not angry.
Not defensive.
Scared.
"This is a setup," he said, forcing the words out, each one heavier than the last.
"I didn't touch her."
My breath hitched.
"They're trying to break us."
A step forward.
I didn't realize I took it.
"Don't let them."
And then—
He collapsed.
Completely.
His weight dropped into Clyden's arms.
Unconscious.
Gone.
The room went silent.
No music.
No movement.
Just the echo of his words hanging in the air.
And the tear I had been holding back—
Finally fell.
Slow.
Quiet.
Unstoppable.
I didn't wipe it.
Didn't move.
I just stood there.
And looked.
At everyone.
Clyden.
Cole.
Jare.
Percy.Aries
All of them.
Watching.
Knowing.
Not surprised.
Not confused.
Aware.
That's when it hit me.
This wasn't sudden.
This wasn't chaos.
This was planned.
And everyone in this room—
Knew something.
My jaw tightened slowly.
My eyes hardened through the blur.
"What is happing here ?"I asked.
Not loud.
But sharp enough to cut through the silence.
No one answered.
Of course they didn't.
"Im going home," I said.
I turned before anyone could stop me.
Walked out.
No hesitation.
Behind me, I heard movement—Clyden and Cole lifting him, carrying him like something fragile they couldn't afford to drop.
The drive back felt longer.
Heavier.
The kind of silence that presses into your chest.
By the time we reached home—
Kiefer was burning.
Heat radiating off him like fire under skin.
His breathing was uneven.
And even through it—
He was whispering.
"Jay…"
My name.
Over and over.
Like it was the only thing anchoring him.
"Jay… it's not what you think," Clyden said, his voice strained as they laid him on the bed.
"Get out."
I pointed at the door.
No hesitation.
No room for argument.
"Jay—" Jare started.
"Just listen—" Cole tried.
I turned my head slowly—
and looked at them.
That was enough.
"Leave me."
My voice cut through everything.
Sharp.
Cold.
Final.
A beat.
Then—
"Alone."
Silence stretched for a second too long.
No one moved.
Until they did.
One by one.
Reluctant.
Watching me like I might break—
or worse.
The door clicked shut behind them.
And just like that—
it was quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of silence that presses against your ears.
Heavy.
Waiting.
And it was just us.
For a second—
I just stood there.
Looking at him.
This version of him—
Weak.
Burning.
Still reaching for me even without knowing it.
Something in my chest tightened.
But I didn't let it stop me.
I moved.
Fast.
I grabbed his arm, pulling him up despite his weight.
"Come on," I muttered.
He barely responded.
But he followed enough.
Half-conscious.
Leaning into me.
I dragged him into the washroom.
Didn't slow down.
Didn't think.
I turned on the shower—
cold water hit instantly.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
He flinched.
"Jay—"
I held him there.
Steady.
Firm.
The water ran over him—
over his face,
his hair,
his skin.
Burning under my hands.
Too hot.
Wrong.
And that scent—
I froze for half a second.
Not his.
Not mine.
Not ours.
It clung to him like something —
something that didn't belong.
My jaw tightened.
I adjusted the tap.
Colder.
Colder.
Let it run.
Let it wash over him—
over everything—
like I could erase it.
Every trace.
Every reminder.
I didn't rush.
Didn't speak.
Just stood there—
holding him in place—
until it started to fade.
Until it was gone.
Until he was just—
him again.
Only him.
"Jay… it's hot—"
I didn't answer.
Didn't stop.
Steam began to rise as the water shifted—
not cold anymore.
Not controlled.
Something in between.
Something unstable.
"Jay—it's hot… it's freaking hot," he groaned, fingers fumbling with his tie before ripping it off, buttons snapping under his hands.
He stepped closer.
Too close.
"Jay…"
His voice dropped.
Rough.
Burning.
And then—
he kissed me.
Hard.
Desperate.
Like he needed it to breathe.
I pushed him back.
"Kie—"
He didn't listen.
Didn't stop.
His hand caught my wrist—
turned me—
pinned me against the cold tile.
"Jay… I feel like I'm burning inside," he whispered against my ear, breath hot despite the water pouring over us.
My breath hitched.
His eyes dropped—
to my lips—
then back to me.
That look—
it broke something.
All that control—
gone.
I pulled him in.
And kissed him.
Not soft.
Not gentle.
Desperate.
Like we were both trying to drown something—
or survive it.
The water kept falling—
hot,
then warm,
then slowly—
cold again.
The heat between us fading with it.
Breaths slowing.
Bodies cooling.
But neither of us pulled away.
Not until the tremor started—
small at first—
then enough to break through.
I stopped.
Stepped back.
Grabbed a towel.
Pulled him out of the shower.
Silent now.
Careful.
Like the storm had already passed—
but the damage was still there.
I helped him out of the shower, steadying his weight when he almost slipped.
His body is still too hot.
Too weak.
I brought him back to the bed.
Dried him.
Dressed him.
Simple. Careful. Quiet.
Like if I slowed down too much—
Everything would catch up to me.
He lay there, breathing unevenly.
Heat is still radiating from him.
Not fully here.
Not fully gone.
And then—
His hand moved.
Searching.
Blind.
Instinctive.
"Jay…"
My name again.
Soft.
Broken.
Without thinking—
I stepped closer.
He found me.
Pulled me in.
Wrapped his arms around me like he needed to make sure I was real.
I froze for a second.
Just a second.
Then—
I didn't pull away.
I let him hold me.
Because I knew.
Deep down—
Past everything I saw.
Past everything that hurt.
He didn't do it.
He knew it was a trap.
But he still walked into it.
And that?
That didn't sit quietly inside me.
My hand rested against his back, steadying him.
And I kissed him.
Forehead.
Cheeks.
Chin.
Then his lips.
For a second,— he responded.
Even like this… he found me.
Like he always does.
"You're mine, Kiefer… mine alone."
The words left my lips before I could stop them.
I kissed him.
Deeper this time.
He answered instantly—
like he'd been waiting for it.
Like he needed it.
The drug hadn't faded.
I could feel it in him—
in the way his grip tightened,
in the way he pulled me closer,
like distance itself was unbearable.
Our breaths tangled.
Broke.
Fell apart.
Still—I didn't push him away.
Didn't want to.
His lips left mine—
trailing down to my neck.
Searching.
Desperate.
"Hot" he murmured against my skin, his breath warm, uneven.
His head dipped into the curve of my neck—
staying there—
like he'd found the only place that could calm him.
And he kept kissing me.
Slow.
Needing.
Like he was trying to burn it out of himself.
I let him.
Didn't stop him.
Didn't move.
Because this—
this side of him—
was mine.
Only mine.
Not obsession.
Not madness.
Something sharper.
Something that twisted deeper in my chest.
Jealousy.
Because no one else gets this.
No one else sees him like this—
breaking,
needing,
reaching only for me.
His scent wrapped around me—
mixed with mine now.
Blended.
Claiming.
And in that moment—
there was only one thing I was sure of—
No one touches Kiefer.
No one.
Except me.
He fell asleep in my arms—
his head still resting against my neck,
like even in sleep,
he couldn't let go.
I didn't move.
Didn't want to.
I pressed a slow kiss to his forehead,
my fingers brushing gently through his hair—
careful,
like he might break if I wasn't.
And somewhere in between the quiet,
the warmth,
the steady rhythm of his breathing—
the tears came.
Silent.
Unstoppable.
Slipping down my cheeks—
one after another.
"Why does loving you always hurt, Kiefer…" I whispered against him.
My fingers tightened slightly in his shirt.
His arms stayed around me.
Not strong.
But enough.
Enough to make it harder to pull away.
I closed my eyes.
"I'm Jay-jay," I said quietly. " I don't back down. I fight like I don't feel anything."
A faint, broken smile touched my lips.
"But when it comes to you…"
My voice dropped.
"You're my weakness."
I pulled back just enough to look at him.
Really look.
Even like this—
He was still him.
Not the version people feared.
Not the one they built stories around.
Just—
Him.
"It's not that you don't love me," I continued softly.
"It's that we both do… too much."
A pause.
Heavy.
Honest.
"And somewhere in that… we're both scared we'll lose each other while trying to protect what we have."
My hand moved to his face.
Thumb brushing lightly against his skin.
"The more I fall for you…"
My voice almost broke but didn't.
"The more that fear grows."
He didn't answer.
Couldn't.
But his hold didn't loosen.
And that was enough.
I leaned my forehead against his.
"When I look into your eyes…"
A soft breath.
"It feels like you're thanking me."
"For loving you… as you are."
Not what they expect.
Not what they see.
Just—
You.
"And maybe…"
I closed my eyes again.
"…that's why I can't walk away."
Because loving you hurts.
But losing you?
Would destroy me.
So I didn't soften.
Not completely.
Not yet.
I stayed there—
In his arms.
But not the way I used to.
Not without questions.
Not without weight.
Just… there.
Present.
Holding him—
But holding myself back at the same time.
Because I believed him.
I did.
Even after everything I saw.
Even after how it looked.
I knew him.
And that truth sat deeper than doubt.
But belief didn't erase what happened.
He still walked into it.
Still let someone get that close.
Still didn't see it coming.
And that?
That mattered.
My fingers tightened slightly against him.
Not enough to hurt.
Just enough to feel.
"This isn't over," I whispered.
Not to him.
Not fully.
To everything that led to this.
To the people behind it.
To the game they thought they were playing.
Not for them.
Because they just crossed a line they can't walk back from.
Not for him.
Because trusting him doesn't mean I won't question the choices that put him there.
And not for us.
Because love like this—
Doesn't survive on feelings alone.
It survives on truth.
On trust.
On facing what breaks it—
And choosing to stay anyway.
I didn't pull away.
But I didn't sink into him either.
I stayed right there—
Between love and distance.
Between anger and relief.
Between breaking—
And holding on.
And this time—
We were going to deal with everything they tried to tear apart.
Together.
Or not at all.