Keifer's Pov
The sterile smell of bleach and isopropyl alcohol in the hospital corridor felt like a physical weight pressing down on my chest.
Every breath I took tasted like iron and regret. Through the small rectangular glass pane of the ICU door, I could see the silhouette of the machines monitoring Jay's heartbeat—the steady, rhythmic electronic beep was the only thing keeping me grounded, the only proof that the girl I loved was still breathing.
But I wasn't allowed to be near her.
Jane stood before me like an impenetrable wall of absolute ice. Her eyes, usually so sharp and calculated, were completely devoid of any warmth. When her lips parted and the cold, unyielding command left her mouth—telling Section E and me to leave—my heart bottomed out.
No. Please, no. I can't leave her.
I took a step forward, my hands trembling, my throat tight as I prepared to beg Jane to let me stay. I didn't care about my pride anymore. I didn't care how pathetic I looked in front of the rest of Section E. I just needed to be there when Jay opened her eyes. I needed her to see that I wasn't running away.
But before the words could tear past my lips, a heavy, firm hand gripped my shoulder. I turned my head slightly to see my mother, Serina, looking at me with eyes full of sorrow and quiet exhaustion.
"Keifer," she whispered, her voice carrying a gentle but unyielding weight. "Go. Give them space. Let's leave for now, son."
Every instinct inside me screamed to fight, to anchor my feet to the linoleum floor and refuse to move. But the sheer disappointment radiating from my mother, combined with the lethal, unforgiving stare Jane pinned me with, paralyzed my resolve.
I had no right to be here. Jane's words echoed in my skull: You have no right.
Slowly, dragging my feet as if they were encased in lead, I turned away from the ICU door. Walking down that hospital hallway felt like watching my own execution. But as soon as we crossed the sliding glass doors of the hospital lobby and the cool night air hit my face, a suffocating desperation took over.
I couldn't just go home and wait. I couldn't sit in an empty room while Jay fought for her life and hated me with her entire soul.
"Yuri," I muttered, my voice hoarse, catching him as Section E clustered near the parking lot. "We're going to the Fernandes house. Now."
Yuri looked at me, his own face pale, dark circles bruising the skin under his eyes. He didn't ask questions. He didn't argue. He just nodded grimly. We climbed into my car, the silence between us so heavy it felt like it was crushing the oxygen right out of the vehicle.
My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned stark white.
When we arrived at the Fernandes Mansion, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. The large, imposing gates felt less like a home and more like a fortress designed to keep monsters like us outside. We walked through the front doors, our footsteps echoing hollowly against the marble floors.
We didn't even make it past the grand foyer before a shadow fell over us.
Angelo stood at the top of the sweeping staircase. His face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fury, suppressed under a layer of terrifyingly calm authority. He didn't yell. He didn't raise his voice. He simply looked down at the two of us, his gaze cutting right through our skin.
"Keifer. Yuri. In my study. Alone," Angelo commanded. The finality in his tone left absolutely no room for negotiation.
We followed him up the stairs like prisoners walking toward the gallows. Once inside the sprawling, book-lined study, the heavy oak door clicked shut behind us. The sound was like a gunshot in the silence.
Angelo walked over to his desk, turned around, and leaned against the edge, crossing his arms over his chest. The silence stretched, agonizing and thick, before he finally spoke.
"Why did you do that?" Angelo asked, his voice dangerously low, dropping into a register that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. He was looking at the two of us, demanding an explanation for the wreckage we had caused.
I couldn't look him in the eye. I lowered my head, the crushing weight of my own guilt suffocating me. "I am sorry, boss," I choked out, the title slipping out naturally from the sheer respect and fear he commanded. "We were... we were blinded by revenge."
Yuri stepped forward slightly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his voice trembling but desperate. "Yeah, Angelo... please, just give us a chance. We won't let you down. I promise... I promise I will earn Jane's forgiveness. I will not hurt her again. Please."
Angelo's eyes shifted to Yuri, analyzing him, searching for any sign of deceit in the lines of his face. The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity before Angelo finally exhaled a harsh, cynical breath.
"Fine, Yuri," Angelo said, his voice cutting like a razor. "But don't you dare hurt her again. Because before I even get the chance to handle you... Jay would kill you."
Yuri nodded frantically, a flicker of profound relief washing over his strained features.
"Now get out," Angelo ordered Yuri coldly.
Yuri looked over at me, a silent apology in his eyes, knowing he couldn't help me here. He turned and walked out of the study, closing the door softly behind him.
Now, it was just me and Angelo. The air felt thin. The space between us felt like a chasm.
I took a ragged breath, stepping closer to his desk, my voice cracking as I swallowed my remaining pride. "Angelo... can I... can I also get a second chance? Please. I really love Jay. She is my life. I can't breathe without her."
Angelo didn't hesitate. His expression hardened into stone. "No, Keifer. You stay away from Jay Jay."
The rejection hit me like a physical blow to the stomach. I staggered back a half-step, my chest heaving.
"Why, Angelo?!" I cried out, the desperation finally breaking through my composure, tears scalding the corners of my eyes. "You allowed Yuri! Why not me? What did I do that can't be fixed? Why can't I have the same chance to earn her back?!"
"Because Yuri doesn't have as many threats surrounding him as you do," Angelo barked, his voice rising, thick with a brother's fierce, protective rage. "Your own father is your enemy, Keifer! I know everything about the Watson game. I know the poison that runs through your family's bloodline, and I know exactly what kind of trap your father is setting. I don't want my sister to get involved in it! Not anymore!"
He paused, his eyes darkening with a profound, aching sorrow that terrified me more than his anger.
"And after knowing about her illness..." Angelo's voice cracked slightly before he hardened it again. "After finding out she has been suffering from CVD for two years completely alone... I am sending her back to her dad. I am removing her from this entire environment."
The words sliced through my brain. Sending her away. Taking her where I can never reach her. Removing her from my life completely.
The room began to spin. A cold, paralyzing panic seized my chest, squeezing my heart until I couldn't breathe. If they took Jay away from me now, while she hated me, while she thought I was nothing but a liar who treated her like a game, she would never look at me again. She would die believing I never loved her.
My knees gave out.
The heavy, arrogant Keifer Watson vanished. I collapsed heavily onto the hard hardwood floor, my knees slamming against the wood. I didn't care. I buried my face in my hands, hot, uncontrollable tears finally spilling over my fingers, staining the floorboards.
I dragged myself forward on my knees, reaching toward the edge of Angelo's desk, begging like a man pleading for his life.
"Please, Angelo... don't send Jay away," I sobbed, my voice breaking into pathetic, ragged hitches. I was completely undone, crying and begging at his feet. "Please don't take her away from me... She is my life. She is everything I have. I know I hurt her... God, I know I'm a piece of trash for what I did, but I want to fix everything. I will do anything. I will tear the world apart to fix this. Please, Angelo... don't take her away."
Angelo stood completely still, looking down at me as I wept at his feet. There was no pity in his eyes, but something shifted in his stance—a cold, calculating assessment. He looked at me for a long, agonizing minute before he spoke, his voice dripping with an absolute, unyielding challenge.
"Prove it to me then, Keifer."
I choked back a sob, looking up at him through blurred, tear-filled vision.
"Get your inheritance," Angelo commanded, leaning down slightly so his shadow completely engulfed me. "Take control of the Watson empire. Tear your father down from his throne. Show me that you can actually protect my sister from the monsters in your own house. Don't just sit on your knees and talk to me. Show me."
The words ignited something raw and feral inside my hollow chest. I wiped the tears from my face with the back of my trembling hand, my jaw tightening as I stared back at him.
"I will prove it to you, Angelo," I swore, my voice shaking but laced with a sudden, dark determination. "I promise you. I will take everything that belongs to me and use it to shield her. I promise."
Angelo didn't say another word. He turned on his heel and moved out of the study, leaving the door wide open.
I dragged myself up from the floor, my legs shaking, my chest aching from the force of my tears. I followed him down the hallway and down the grand staircase, just as the heavy front doors of the mansion swung open.
My breath caught in my throat
Jane and Jay entered the house.
Seeing Jay standing there—so pale, her hand wrapped in a thick white medical bandage, her eyes looking so incredibly fragile yet so entirely distant—broke something fundamental inside me.
Every cell in my body screamed at me to run down those stairs. I wanted to sprint to her, to throw my arms around her waist, to pull her so close against my chest that our heartbeats melded into one. I wanted to hold her tightly and whisper into her hair that I was here, that the nightmare was over, that I would never let anyone hurt her again.
But as I took a step forward, my boots froze against the step.
The front doors hadn't just admitted Jay and Jane. The biological mother, Jeana, was there too. And the moment the confrontation erupted in the foyer, the air turned entirely toxic.
I stood frozen on the stairs, watching the horror unfold. When Jay intercepted Jeana's hand, grabbing her wrist with a lethal, terrifying strength to protect Jane, my breath hitched. But it was the words that tore out of Jay's mouth next that made my blood run entirely cold.
Sold like a thing... alone with wolves... throwing newborn Jane into a trash can...
The horrific, sickening accusations spilled out of Jay's mouth like venom, her voice vibrating with a decade's worth of pure, unadulterated trauma. My mind reeled.
Something happened 12 years ago. Something monstrous, something deeply hidden in the dark past of the Fernandes and Mariano families.
I watched Jay lose absolute control, her foot slamming into the coffee table, shattering the wood and sending the vase crashing to the floor in a brutal explosion of porcelain and water.
I couldn't breathe. I didn't know this history. I didn't know the depth of the hell she had survived. But I will find out, I swore to myself, my heart twisting in agony as I watched the girl I loved scream until her voice went hoarse. I will find out everything about what happened 12 years ago.
Then, the storm turned on us.
Jay's eyes swept across the room, landing squarely on Section E, and then, finally, locking onto me. The utter disgust and hatred in her eyes burned worse than acid
. She ordered everyone to leave. She revoked our rights to even speak her name.
When Cin tried to step forward, tried to beg her to listen, Jay shut him down with a cold, dead finality that made it clear we were completely dead to her.
And then, she looked directly at me.
"You are truly a Watson," her voice echoed through the high ceilings of the mansion, sharp and deadly. "A lying, deceitful, heartless piece of trash. You are just like the rest of your family."
The words shattered my heart into a million irreparable pieces. The air left my lungs completely. I felt like I had been stabbed repeatedly in the chest, the blade twisting with every syllable she uttered. I wanted to speak. I wanted to cry out, to tell her that I wasn't like them, that my love for her was the only real, pure thing I had ever possessed in my miserable life.
But I couldn't say a single word. My throat was completely paralyzed by the sheer weight of my devastation. I stood there, a broken shell of a man, watching her turn her back on me.
She walked up the stairs, her head held incredibly high, her spine straight as Jane followed her silently into the dark safety of the upper levels.
She didn't look back. Not even once.
The silence she left behind was suffocating. I couldn't stay there a single second longer. If I stayed in that house, surrounded by the remnants of her shattered trust and the scent of her anger, I was going to completely lose my mind.
I turned around, ignoring the shocked, somber faces of Section E, ignoring Yuri, ignoring everyone. I practically ran out of the Fernandes Mansion, throwing myself into the driver's seat of my car. I slammed my hands against the steering wheel, letting out a raw, guttural scream of pure agony that tore my throat to shreds.
I turned the key, shifted the gear, and slammed my foot onto the gas pedal. The tires screeched against the driveway as I sped away from the only girl I would ever love, leaving a trail of burning rubber behind me.
I drove like a madman through the dark, blurred streets, the tears blinding my vision so badly I could barely see the road. I didn't care if I crashed. Part of me desperately wanted to. But I had a promise to keep to Angelo.
I didn't drive to a bar. I drove straight to the
Watson Mansion.
I stormed through the front doors, ignoring the servants who scrambled out of my way, and went straight to the private bar area in the east wing. My hands were shaking so violently I could barely grab the bottles. I grabbed a bottle of hard whiskey, tore the cap off with my teeth, and spat it onto the floor.
I lifted the bottle to my lips and drank. I drank until the alcohol burned its way down my throat, hoping to God it would numb the agonizing pain tearing through my chest.
But it didn't. One bottle down. Then another. I poured the liquid fire down my throat, one after another, trying to drown out the sound of Jay's voice calling me a heartless piece of trash.
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Serina POv
My heart didn't just break tonight; it completely sank into an abyss of profound, suffocating sorrow.
As I sat in the quiet luxury of the Fernandes Mansion earlier, watching the absolute destruction of a family, I felt a piece of my own soul wither away.
I had always looked at Jay and Jane as more than just my son's friends or classmates. I loved those girls. I treated them, in my heart, like my very own daughters. They were girls who had carried so much silent weight, yet they always carried themselves with such fierce grace.
But finding out about Jay's condition tonight... learning that for two long years, that precious, brave girl had been fighting Cardiovascular Disease in absolute secrecy, carrying the terrifying burden of a failing heart just so she wouldn't stress her family... it made a deep, agonizing sadness wash over me. I wanted to wrap her in a blanket and protect her from the cruelties of the universe.
Yet, what broke me most—what truly, deeply tortured my spirit—was the sickening realization that my own son, my Keifer, alongside Yuri, the boy I had watched grow up from a sweet child into a young man, were the very reasons for those girls' tears.
They did this.
My son, the boy I raised, was the architect of the plan that had broken Jay's fragile heart and pushed her medical condition into a critical, life-threatening episode.
When I had stood in that hospital hallway and witnessed the raw, hollow desperation in Keifer's eyes, I knew. I knew my son truly, deeply loved Jay. It wasn't a game to him anymore. The love he felt for her was real, consuming, and absolute.
But the irony was a bitter, poisonous pill to swallow: he had realized the depth of his love only after he had completely ruined any chance of holding her.
I knew he regretted his decision with every fiber of his being. I saw it in the way his shoulders slouched, the way his voice trembled, and the pathetic way he looked at Jane, begging for a scrap of mercy.
But actions have consequences. The damage he and Section E had inflicted on Jay's and Jane's trust wasn't something that could be smoothed over with a simple apology.
It was a deep, infected wound. It was going to take an immense amount of time, pain, and absolute sacrifice to fix things—if they could even be fixed at all.
When the family finally arrived back at the Fernandes home, I had hoped for a moment of peace. Instead, I witnessed a horror show.
Jeana's sudden, manipulative arrival enraged Jay to a level I had never seen in a human being before. The sheer volume of Jay's anger—the raw, bleeding trauma of being sold, abandoned, and left to wolves—shook the entire mansion to its foundation.
I watched in stunned silence as Jay, driven by a decade of repressed agony, kicked the coffee table, shattering it to splinters.
And through it all, out of the corner of my eye, I watched my son.
Keifer stood on the stairs, looking down at the chaos like a ghost. He looked so incredibly small, so entirely broken. And when Jay turned her freezing, venomous gaze onto him, calling him a true Watson—a lying, deceitful piece of trash—I felt a physical pang of sympathy for my boy, despite his sins.
I saw the exact moment his spirit broke. I saw the tears pooling in his eyes, tears he tried so desperately to control as he stood frozen under her hatred.
And then, he ran. He fled the house like a wounded animal seeking a dark corner to die in.
I couldn't just stay at the Fernandes Mansion after that. My love to Jay and Jane was immense, but my duty as a mother pulled at my chest like a dragging anchor. I had to follow him. I had to make sure my son didn't do something irreversible to himself tonight.
I drove back to the Watson Mansion, my mind racing with horror. When I stepped inside the house, the heavy, oppressive silence confirmed my worst fears. I followed the faint, rhythmic sound of glass clinking against glass, leading me straight to the private bar in the east wing.
When I pushed the double doors open, the strong, overwhelming stench of high-proof alcohol hit me like a slap to the face.
My breath caught in my throat.
There he was. My son.
Keifer was slumped against the edge of the bar counter, his expensive jacket thrown carelessly onto the floor, his hair a wild, disheveled mess. The polished wood of the bar was cluttered with empty bottles.
I counted them, my heart dropping further into my stomach.Five bottles of hard liquor were completely drained, sitting empty on the counter. He was currently holding a sixth bottle by the neck, his fingers trembling so badly the glass clinked against his ring.
His face was flushed a dark, unnatural red, his eyes bloodshot and swollen from a combination of heavy drinking and unstoppable crying. Wet streaks stained his cheeks, catching the dim amber light of the bar lamps.
"Keifer..." I whispered, my voice breaking with a mother's profound sorrow as I rushed across the room toward him.He flinched at the sound of my voice, slowly turning his head.
When his blurry, unfocused eyes locked onto mine, his mouth trembled. The fierce, untouchable leader of the school vanished, leaving behind nothing but a terrified, heartbroken little boy.
"Ma..." Keifer choked out, his voice incredibly hoarse, thick with alcohol and unshed tears. He let go of the sixth bottle, letting it thump heavily onto the counter as he reached out for me blindly. "Ma... I truly love Jay, Ma... More than my own life. I swear to you, I love her so much."
"I know, baby. I know," I murmured, my own tears starting to spill over my eyelashes as I reached him, wrapping my arms around his shaking shoulders.
"I know it was my stupidity," he sobbed openly now, burying his face directly into the crook of my neck, his large frame shaking violently against mine as he clung to my blouse like a lifeline. "It was my fucking plan, Ma... it was my sick, twisted desire for revenge that started it. But trust me, Ma... please trust me, the plan stopped a long time ago. I forgot about the revenge. I really... I really fell for her, Ma. I love everything about her."
He hiccuped, a ragged, painful sound tearing from his chest as he gripped the fabric of my back tightly."I confessed to her today, Ma... I told her the truth, but everything is messed up. The timing... the secrets... everything is completely ruined. I can't lose her, Ma. I swear to God, I can't live without her. If she leaves, if she goes away hating me, I don't want to be here anymore. I can't breathe. It hurts so bad, Ma... it hurts so fucking much."
Hearing my son weep with such complete, unbridled agony tore my heart to shreds. I squeezed him tighter, burying my hand into the thick strands of his hair, rocking him back and forth against my chest right there on the floor of the bar.
"I know, baby... don't cry. Ma is here. I'm right here," I cooed to him, my voice thick with emotion, comforting him the only way a mother could.
I pulled back just enough to frame his tear-stained, flush face with both of my hands, forcing his bloodshot eyes to lock onto mine.
I needed him to hear me. I needed him to understand the gravity of his reality, but also the hope that lay beyond it.
"It is true you made a massive, horrible mistake, Keifer," I told him gently, but with absolute honesty, refusing to sugarcoat his actions. "And I totally agree with Jay being angry with you. She has every single right to hate you right now. You broke her trust when she was already fighting a silent battle for her life."
Keifer squeezed his eyes shut, a fresh wave of bitter tears slipping down his cheeks at my words.
"But you are my son," I continued, my voice firming up with maternal strength, tilting his chin up so he had to look at me. "And a Watson does not simply break and wither away in a dark room. Don't give up so soon, Keifer. If your love for her is as real as you say it is, then you don't get to sit here and drown yourself in alcohol while she suffers alone."
He swallowed hard, his breath hitching. "Ma... she told me I'm just like my father. She called me a heartless piece of trash."
"Then prove to her that she is wrong," I
commanded softly, wiping the wet streaks from his cheeks with my thumbs. "Earn her forgiveness. It won't happen tomorrow. It might not even happen this year. But you stay on your path. Show her through your actions—every single day—that you choose her. Show her that you choose her over the plan, over the revenge, and over the Watson name. Show her that she is your entire universe, Keifer. Do not let her go without a fight."
Keifer stared at me, the profound desperation in his eyes slowly mixing with a faint, flickering spark of the determination Angelo had demanded of him. He nodded slowly, pulling me back into a tight, fierce hug, burying his face in my shoulder as he quietly resolved to tear down heaven and hell to bring his girl back home.
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A/n
Hey my dear readers ❤️✨!
I am so incredibly sorry for the silence and for not uploading a new chapter over the last few days.
My periods hit me like an absolute freight train this week, and the cramps have been completely acting up to the point where I could barely sit at my desk or focus on my screen.
I'm finally upright and pushing through the pain to bring you this massive, emotionally heavy update. Thank you all so much for your endless patience and sweet messages!
Let's set a target of 50 comments for the next chapter—please drop your thoughts, theories, and reactions below to keep me motivated while I recover!
Love you all 😘
See you soon😍
Bye 👋 🫂