Chapter:3

‼️Author note ‼️

Okay listen—

I know I was supposed to upload this chapter like 2–3 days ago… but your girl? She entered her ✨ perfectionist ✨ era.

I wrote this chapter. Then deleted it. Then wrote it again. Then cried. Then rewrote it again. THEN stared at the wall like some dramatic K-drama heroine thinking, "Ugh this still doesn't feel right 😩"

BUT FINALLY—after fighting with my inner writer's block and here it is.

The FINAL version. With over 6000+ words (yes bestie SIX THOUSAND I went full Bollywood screenplay mode 🎬)

This chapter has love, tension, a chaotic Jay, a flirty Keifer, and of course—your fav background bestie Advika, who's ready to slap Keifer if needed 😤❤️

I hope you all love this chapter as much as I tortured myself writing it.

Now go read it and scream in the comments.

—Your forever chaotic author 💘

---

The morning sunlight crept softly into the room, slipping past the thick curtains like an uninvited guest. Jay turned in bed, frowning at the clock.

7:14 AM.

She groaned.

The world outside was already wide awake. Cars honked, phones buzzed, the city moved on—like it always did. But today felt heavier, like time was teasing her, slow and loud at the same time.

She sat up, stretching her arms above her head, her soft blue robe slipping slightly as she got off the bed. The cold tiles under her feet brought her fully into the present.

Routine.

She needed routine.

Brush teeth. Fix hair. Look decent. Pretend heart's fine.

Jay made her way to the kitchen, tying her messy bun with one hand, already reaching for the cabinet with the other. Coffee first. Then something to eat.

She pulled out the pan, the spatula, opened the fridge. Eggs. Tomatoes. A little leftover rice.

Her fingers hesitated.

Cooking.

It still felt foreign to her fingers.

Back in school, she never even boiled water.

In college? Maggi and takeout ruled her world. Cooking was never something she learned—never something she had to. She had other priorities. Classes. Internships. People.

People like…

Keifer.

And just like that, the memory hit her like a wave—warm, teasing, and sharp.

---

[FLASHBACK]

"Where are we even going?" Jay asked, hugging her jacket tighter. "You dragged me out of my dorm like some kidnapper."

Keifer didn't even look at her. He just smirked.

That stupid, confident, smug smirk.

Jay rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "I swear, if you don't tell me—"

"You'll what?" he cut in, glancing at her sideways. "Throw a pencil at me again?"

"I might throw something heavier this time," she muttered.

He laughed—loud and real. That kind of laugh that made her want to stay mad, but also made her heart do those stupid little flips.

They stopped in front of a beautiful two-story house—white walls, blooming bougainvillaea, and large windows that reflected the setting sun.

Jay blinked. "Uh... where are we?"

Keifer walked up the stairs, pulled out a key, and opened the door like he owned it.

"Keifer?"

He turned around, holding the door open. "Come on in, Mrs. Watson."

Her feet froze.

"Excuse me?"

He leaned slightly forward, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Because this house is ours. And you… are the future Mrs. Watson."

Jay's throat did something weird. She gulped, hard. Her entire body heated like someone turned the sun just on her. "Stop joking," she whispered.

But Keifer saw it—how she nervously clutched her jacket, her eyes darting away, her ears going red. And he loved it.

When she stepped inside, her breath caught.

It was beautiful. Soft ivory walls, wooden floors, fairy lights strung across the ceiling beams. A little messy, but homely. Like a dream they hadn't even dared to dream.

Jay turned around slowly. "Wait… you brought me here to show me this? Just this?"

"You said you were hungry," Keifer shrugged.

"Exactly!" Jay snapped. "You promised food, not a fantasy!"

He smirked again. "Follow me."

He took her hand—without warning, without hesitation—and led her into the kitchen. Her hand felt too warm, her heartbeat too loud.

Jay looked around the modern kitchen. "I… I can't cook," she said honestly.

Keifer turned to her with a soft chuckle. "You don't need to."

He picked up the apron, tossing it over his shoulder like some domestic Greek god. "You just have to sit there and stare at your husband."

Jay blinked. "You're so full of yourself."

"Hmm," he said, cracking an egg with one hand. "But you're still staring."

"I'm just… watching to make sure you don't burn the place down."

"Mmhmm."

Jay sat on the counter, pretending to scroll through her phone. But her eyes kept drifting to him. The way he moved confidently around the kitchen. The way his hair fell over his forehead. The way he tasted the sauce and nodded to himself like he was feeding royalty.

Her heart ached with something she didn't want to name.

Then he turned toward her with a cheeky grin. "Food's ready, Miss-Can't-Cook."

She smirked. "Took you long enough."

He handed her a plate. "Now don't stare at me like that. I'm not your food."

Jay nearly choked on her bite. "Shut up."

But she was smiling.

And he was glowing.

---

[END OF FLASHBACK]

The rice in the pan sizzled a little too loud, bringing her back.

Jay shook her head, blinking fast.

So much had changed.

But some things…

some moments…

they still lived under her skin.

She stirred the food, trying not to smile.

But a whisper escaped her lips anyway.

"Stupid husband."

---

Jay stood in front of the mirror, her expression calm… almost too calm.

Like she was holding her breath, trying not to let the past from ten minutes ago crawl back into her bones.

No.

This was a new day.

And she had things to do. Responsibilities. Students waiting.

She picked out her outfit with quiet precision.

A pair of straight, loosely fitted navy-blue pants, the kind that moved with grace but didn't cling like attention-seeking thoughts.

She tucked in a soft beige button-up shirt, folding the sleeves halfway up her forearms. Simple. Sharp. Neutral. Like her heart wished it could be.

Her fingers moved to her vanity—moisturizer first, sunscreen next, a tiny touch of concealer just under her eyes where the weight of old memories had tried to settle.

No lipstick.

No eyeliner.

Not today.

She sprayed a light mist of her perfume—the same one she had worn that day with Keifer.

And for a moment, the scent wrapped around her like a whisper she didn't ask for.

Jay paused.

But didn't change it.

Instead, she laced up her white sneakers, checked her reflection one last time, and nodded softly to herself.

"I'm not going to break today," she whispered to her reflection.

Grabbing her brown sling bag, she checked for everything—markers, worksheets, her tablet, and her water bottle.

Everything in place.

Everything under control.

She locked her apartment door behind her, keys jingling like quiet reminders of her independence, and stepped out into the morning sun.

The city was already alive—horns blaring, people rushing, dogs barking, life happening.

Jay slipped her earbuds in, letting soft lo-fi music calm her racing heart as she walked to the bus stop.

Today wasn't about Keifer.

Today was about her.

And her students.

But even as she walked away from her building, her perfume lingered in the air like a secret she was still carrying with her.

The school gates stood tall and familiar as Jay walked in, the cool breeze teasing the loose folds of her blue pants.

A few students standing near the corridor straightened up the moment they saw her.

"Good morning, ma'am!" one boy said, a little too eagerly, his voice cracking as if even his vocal cords were nervous.

Jay gave a polite nod, her expression unreadable. "Morning."

As she passed through the hallways, whispers followed her like shadows.

"She's so pretty, I swear—"

"Bro, she smiled at me yesterday!"

"Don't even start, she looked at me during attendance."

"I wrote a poem for her, should I give it today?"

"Wait what—YOU wrote a poem??"

Jay sighed.

Here we go again.

The moment she stepped into the staffroom to drop off her bag, two other teachers raised eyebrows knowingly.

"Another morning, another fan club outside your classroom," one of them joked.

Jay just rolled her eyes, grabbing her marker pens. "They'll get bored eventually."

Except they never did.

---

Her classroom was already buzzing.

Chairs squeaking, papers flying, and at the far end—an argument brewing.

Two girls were nose-to-nose in the corner, whisper-yelling in that very specific teen-girl tone.

"Well, he liked my post first!"

"That doesn't mean he doesn't like me more!"

"You literally told him Jay ma'am's favorite color was green so he'd impress her!"

Jay raised an eyebrow.

Her favorite color isn't even green.

She cleared her throat loudly.

The class froze.

"Take your seats," she said, walking to the front like a storm in beige and blue.

Everyone scrambled.

Markers clicked open. Whiteboard filled.

Today's lesson: Storytelling through Character Emotions.

But even as she taught—smooth, expressive, focused—she could still feel the stolen glances. The awkward shuffling when she turned. The boys trying to "accidentally" drop their pens so they could kneel like knights mid-class.

She ignored it all.

In the beginning, it had driven her mad.

The compliments, the flirtatious notes, the poorly drawn hearts on homework pages—it was so annoying at first. She scolded. She warned. She lectured about boundaries and professionalism.

But they didn't stop.

And eventually… she just stopped reacting.

Because there was no point in getting angry at teenage crushes. They'd pass. Or they wouldn't. Either way, she wasn't here to play muse to hormone-driven boys.

She was here to teach.

Jay wrote a sentence on the board, her voice sharp, yet calm:

"Not all love stories are loud—some stay silent and still hurt the most."

Someone in the back whispered, "That line… feels personal."

Jay turned around slowly. "That line… is called storytelling."

She gave a quick smile—just the hint of one—and continued the lesson.

But inside her?

Her own story buzzed like static beneath her skin.

Because the truth was, love wasn't something you outgrew.

And some crushes didn't belong to teenage boys.

Some belonged to grown men with sharp eyes and deeper voices.

Men who once said, "You're my future, Jay."

---

The bell rang, echoing across the corridor like freedom on a Friday.

Jay capped her marker and gave a final nod to her students. "I want your stories on my desk by Monday. Make me laugh. Make me cry. Just don't copy from the internet."

A few groans. A few "yes ma'am"s. And one dramatic, "I'm writing about you!"

(Author note - Does in your school boys do flirting with mam👀? In my school some idiots do.)

She blinked at that one. Chose peace. Walked out.

The hallway was calmer now. Sunlight streamed through the windows, drawing gold stripes across the tiled floor. Jay slipped into the staff room and dropped her folder on the table with a soft sigh.

She made herself a cup of tea from the shared kettle. One sip. Two. The world slowed.

Her mind, however?

Didn't.

[FLASHBACK]

Jay sat slouched in the third row of the lecture hall, her expression screaming I'd rather be anywhere but here.

"Page 116," their professor droned, chalk screeching on the board. "Differential calculus. Pay attention."

Jay leaned sideways and whispered to the boy sitting next to her, "Do you think if I break my own leg right now, I'll be excused from this torture?"

CN smirked without looking up from his notes. "Depends. You'll still have to do math in the hospital if they give you a bill."

Jay groaned. "Ugh. You nerd."

CN chuckled, scribbling down something in his perfectly organized notebook. "It's not torture. It's logic. Like magic with rules."

"Yeah, well, your logic makes me want to eat my textbook and disappear."

"Honestly?" he whispered, glancing up at the professor, "Sir looks like he hasn't blinked since 2005. I'm concerned."

Jay covered her mouth to stop the giggle from escaping.

"I swear he makes eye contact with me like he's reading my soul and judging my math sins."

CN smirked. "That's because you hold the pen like it's a wand and not a pen. Even I get distracted watching you."

Jay gave him a playful glare. "Go fall in love with calculus and leave me alone."

"I already did. And with complex numbers, too."

"Ugh."

They both burst into silent laughter, hunching over like criminals mid-robbery. Their friendship? It made even numbers feel human sometimes.

---

[END FLASHBACK]

Jay smiled to herself, eyes soft.

She missed that version of herself. The one who sat next to CN, backbiting professors and rolling her eyes at formulas.

She missed the friendship that felt like a safety net.

The laughter that didn't come with consequences.

The past that hadn't yet gotten tangled in heartbreak.

Suddenly, a warm, confident voice broke her train of thought—

"Jenna ma'am?"

Jay turned and looked toward the staff room door.

Standing there was Advika Sharma, draped in a beige linen saree with an elegant maroon border, bangles gently clinking as she held her diary close to her chest.

"Oh, Advika ma'am," Jay straightened slightly, brushing her hair back.

Advika smiled, her eyes kind and knowing. "Principal ma'am is calling you. She asked for you just now."

Jay sighed dramatically. "Let me guess... it's serious?"

Advika chuckled, "Maybe. Or maybe she just wants to see your charming face."

Jay raised a brow. "If she starts talking about deadlines, I'm blaming you."

Advika laughed. "I'll take full responsibility."

As Jay got up and fixed her scarf, Advika stepped aside, holding the door open.

> A soft little note: Advika Sharma wasn't just admired by students — her journey inspired most of the staff too.

A vibrant soul from Jaipur, she had come to the Philippines on a dance fellowship years ago, but destiny had bigger plans.

Now, here she was — a respected Dance, Music, and SST teacher at NYC University, known for blending Indian grace with modern rhythm, all while sipping her favorite ginger chai during meetings.(And soon maybe she will play very important role as she is also near about age of Jay👀)

---

Her steps slowed as she reached the principal's door. Her heartbeat was suddenly faster than it should've been. Nervous? Maybe. She took a deep breath and knocked.

"Come in."

Principal Emma Swift sat behind her polished desk, a kind smile playing on her lips. She was always calm and poised, someone who had once given Jay a job when she was at her lowest.

"Jenna, thank you for coming. Please, sit."

Jay obeyed quietly.

"I'll get to the point. Our school recently got a new investor—or more precisely, a trustee—who has shown great interest in our institution's future. He's generous, consistent, and willing to offer donations every six months to improve our infrastructure and provide more opportunities for students."

Jay blinked. "That's… amazing."

"Yes, and under normal circumstances, I would be the one to meet him personally, but…" she paused, sighing. "My daughter's been hospitalized. I have to stay with her, so I can't leave."

Jay's face softened. "I'm really sorry to hear that, ma'am…"

Emma smiled faintly. "Thank you. Which brings me to my request. I trust you, Jenna. You're responsible, composed, and you understand the values we want to protect. I want you to represent the school and meet our trustee today."

Jay hesitated for a moment, unsure if she was even the right person for something this big. But she owed this woman everything—the job, the trust, the support.

She nodded slowly. "Alright, ma'am. I'll go."

Emma lit up. "Thank you. I'll send all the details. You have an hour to get ready. The school car will take you."

Jay gave a small smile. "Sure. What's his name, ma'am?"

Emma tapped on her iPad, then said casually, "Oh, right. His name is Mark Keifer Watson."

Everything inside Jay froze.

Her eyes widened ever so slightly.

Emma continued, unaware of the storm brewing in Jay's chest. "He just moved his empire to this city today and is already helping the student community. Such a kind man, don't you think?"

Jay didn't answer right away. Her lips barely moved. "Yes… very kind."

But her mind?

It was screaming.

Jay stepped back into the staff room, her footsteps a little slower this time. The hum of casual chatter around her felt distant. She sat down quietly at her usual desk, clutching her water bottle but not drinking from it. Her fingers were trembling slightly, and the crease between her brows only deepened.

Advika, who was rearranging some student files near the window, glanced up just once—and that was enough.

In five years of friendship, she had learned to read Jay even in her silences.

She walked over and placed a gentle hand on Jay's shoulder. "You okay, Jenna? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Jay looked up, blinking as if just pulled out of a spiral. The warmth in Advika's voice was her undoing. She gave a small smile—but her eyes were clouded, far away.

"I'm okay," she replied, but it was too soft to be convincing.

Advika sat beside her now, facing her directly. "Jay... what happened in Principal Swift's office?"

Jay didn't answer right away. She stared at the half-empty cup of coffee on the staff table like it held all the answers. And then, with a long exhale, she whispered, "I have to meet someone. An investor who's helping the school."

Advika tilted her head, sensing something deeper. "And this someone… is not just someone, is he?"

Jay's eyes flickered up. There was no point in lying. Not to her.

"It's him. Keifer."

Advika's mouth parted in surprise, and she instinctively placed a hand on Jay's. "Keifer? Mark Keifer Watson? The one from..."

Jay nodded slowly.

"I met him yesterday… by accident. In the bookstore. He looked at me like nothing had changed, like no years had passed." Her voice cracked slightly, and she clenched her jaw. "And now… this. The more I try to stay away from him, the more he walks right into my world. And deep down I know—he moved his empire here because of me. He's investing in this school because of me."

A moment passed before Advika let out a dramatic huff. "Oh, that stupid idiot senseless animal. Girl, you're a lioness. Don't let him shake you like this."

Jay couldn't help but laugh. "Advika…"

"No, I'm serious!" Advika pointed at her like a scolding older sister. "He's the one who should feel nervous, not you. You go there, raise that chin, and show him what he lost."

Just then, a soft honk echoed outside the window—Jay's cab had arrived.

She took a breath, still overwhelmed, but Advika's words gave her just a little strength.

Jay picked up her purse, tucked the folder under her arm, and turned to leave.

Advika narrowed her eyes and called out playfully, "Tell me what happened or I'm coming to your apartment, dear!"

Jay chuckled. "Okay, okay, ma'am! Noted."

"And don't forget," Advika added with a wink, "Lioness. Not lamb."

Jay nodded and smiled, then stepped into the cab, her heart still nervous, but her soul… slightly steadier.

Today, she would face Keifer again.

But not as the girl he left behind—

As the woman who survived without him.

---

Jay's cab came to a slow stop in front of a massive skyscraper.

Glass and steel stood tall like a beast in the middle of the city—the Watson Empire, shining like it owned the sky. A thousand stories from her past were sealed behind those glass walls… and today, she had to walk into them like none of them ever broke her.

She stepped out of the cab.

Took a deep breath.

Clutched the folder tighter.

From the outside, she looked calm—poised, professional. But inside, her heart was screaming.

She tilted her head up.

There it was… his world.

A digital screen on the side of the building flashed the words:

"Watson Group – Where Vision Meets Power."

And below that, the welcome message for today's school investors' meet.

She let out a small sigh.and walked forward.

Each step echoed on the glossy white tiles of the grand entrance. Employees in formal wear passed her, some throwing quick glances. The security guard at the door looked up and immediately opened it with a slight bow.

"Ma'am, you're expected. Please proceed to the 39th floor. Mr. Keifer's assistant is waiting."

Jay nodded silently, stepping in.

The lobby was overwhelming.

Elegant chandeliers hung from the ceiling, gold accents sparkled on the marble floor, and the faint scent of fresh lilies mixed with expensive cologne filled the air.

It smelled rich.

Too rich.

Like him.

She pressed the button on the glass elevator and stepped in.

39th floor.

She whispered it like a prayer and the elevator began to rise. Her eyes were fixed on the city shrinking below her, but her mind? Her mind was time-traveling—racing through memories, some sweet, some sharp.

The time he waited outside her tuition just to give her a packet of her favorite candies.

The time he skipped practice just to help her study before an exam.

The time he kissed her forehead like a promise…

The elevator pinged.

She blinked, snapped out of her thoughts.

Floor 39.

Here we go.

Jay entered the room with grace, her heels clicking softly on the polished floor.

But before she could even take two full steps in—

"Jay?"

A familiar voice gasped.

Jay turned.

Standing near the desk was a woman in her late twenties with sleek glasses, a sharp ponytail, and a bright formal blazer—Honey, Keifer's trusted assistant.

Honey's eyes widened, her lips parted in disbelief. "Oh my god... JAY!"

Without waiting for a second, Honey rushed to her and pulled her into a tight hug.

Jay froze.

Honey clung to her like someone who had just seen a ghost return. Her voice cracked as she whispered near Jay's shoulder, "You… you don't know how much we cried. Everyone thought you were gone. Percy… Aries… even cold-hearted Angelo, they were all shattered."

Jay's hands remained awkwardly hanging by her side.

Honey pulled back just a little, eyes now glassy.

"But the worst was Keifer," she said softly.

Jay's expression tensed.

"He… he completely changed," Honey continued, not noticing the shift in Jay's mood. "Stopped smiling. Stopped talking. For months, he didn't even come to the office. And when he did… it was like his soul never came back with him. He'd just sit in his cabin, staring out the window or scribbling in that old leather notebook he never let anyone touch. Every day, we hoped he'd heal, but—"

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Jay suddenly interrupted, her tone a little too sharp.

Honey blinked.

Jay stepped back, straightening her posture, her voice colder now.

"I think you're mistaken."

A beat of silence.

"I'm not who you think I am," Jay said calmly. "My name is Jenaa M. I'm just here as a school representative for today's partnership meeting."

Honey's face crumbled. "W-What? No… no, you're Jay. Jasper Jean Mariano. You were—"

"I think you should check the guest list again," Jay said, a soft, guarded smile on her lips. "Excuse me."

She turned around, walking towards the opposite chair and placing her file on the table with steady hands—though her heart was not steady at all.

Behind her, Honey's voice was barely a whisper.

Jay closed her own eyes for a second, just to hold herself together.

Why did it still hurt like this?

Why did the name Keifer still echo like thunder in her chest?

(Author note --Oh dear because even after 5 years you still love him you love him until scientists find the end of universe 🤧❤️)

Honey stood still, confusion swirling in her teary eyes.

She took a hesitant step toward Jay, whispering,

"Why… why are you pretending like you're not Jay?"

"What happened to you…?"

Jay's fingers tightened on the file she held. Her lips parted—maybe to lie, maybe to run.

But before another word could be spoken…

The door clicked.

And the air in the room changed—instantly.

Footsteps. Firm. Commanding. Unhurried, yet heavy with power.

Jay didn't turn. She didn't have to.

She felt it.

That cold gust of energy.

That presence that used to make her heart flutter... and now made it twist.

Keifer Watson had entered the room.

Clad in black with his signature coat, the silver pin on his collar glinting under the lights, his aura was exactly as the world described him—untouchable, magnetic, a storm in a suit.

His sharp eyes scanned the room and landed directly on her.

His gaze didn't waver.

Didn't blink.

For a moment, the whole world became quiet.

Even Honey didn't breathe.

Keifer's voice, calm but carrying the weight of a thousand storms, echoed softly:

"Honey."

She turned instantly. "Y-Yes?"

"Leave us."

Not a question. Not a suggestion.

A command.

Honey hesitated, glancing at Jay, her heart aching—but Keifer's tone left no room for argument.

She lowered her gaze. "Alright as you say Keifer."

As Honey walked out, she gave Jay one last look, silently pleading for answers.

Then the door clicked shut.

Now, only two people remained in the room.

Jay still hadn't turned to face him.

She couldn't.

Because she knew…

The moment their eyes met, the past would come flooding back—whether she wanted it to or not.

Jay—no, Jasper Jean Mariano—stood still, spine straight, fingers clutching the document file.

She didn't turn.

She heard the soft, composed click of Keifer's shoes as he walked inside the room—his empire, his floor, his rules.

Her breath hitched.

Five years.

Five full years since they last saw each other.

And still… the sound of his presence alone could undo the walls she built.

Keifer halted just a few feet behind her.

The silence stretched long.

Then, in that familiar deep, calm voice that once whispered dreams and destruction, he said—

"You cut your hair."

Her lips twitched. That's what he noticed first?

She turned slowly.

Their eyes met.

And everything collapsed.

But she didn't show it.

Her expression was unreadable—professional, cold, nothing like the warm, shy girl he once knew.

"Excuse me?" she replied, tilting her head slightly, brows furrowed as if confused.

Keifer narrowed his eyes, stepping closer.

"You're Jay. Jasper Jean Mariano," he said softly, as if trying to convince himself.

She let out a small laugh. "I'm afraid you've mistaken me for someone else."

He studied her face, every feature, every inch of her that had once been his entire world.

"You changed your voice too?" he said. "Or are you just that good at lying now?"

She raised her chin.

"I'm Jenaa M, a legal consultant sent by Principal Emma Swift. I'm only here to deliver documents, Mr. Watson. Nothing more."

His jaw clenched. "Don't play games with me, Jay."

"I'm not Jay."

He took another step forward.

"Then look me in the eye, Jenaa M… and tell me you've never been mine."

Her fingers gripped the file tighter.

He noticed.

"You flinch when I step closer. You still do that," he said, voice lower now, gentler. "You used to hide your nose in your sleeves when you were nervous. You're doing that now."

Her hand immediately dropped from the sleeve, but her mask cracked for just a second.

And Keifer saw it.

That flicker of pain. That ghost of a memory.

Jay took that moment to compose herself and stepped back.

"Look," she said flatly, "I don't care what you believe, but I'm not here to revive any past drama. The Principal has sent me for legal cooperation only. If you have questions, email the office. Goodbye, Mr. Watson."

Keifer hadn't moved.

His piercing eyes scanned every inch of her face, as if trying to memorize what he once lost. His voice was calm, yet heavy.

Keifer: "So… you're Jenna M now?"

Jasper stiffened, but said nothing. Her fingers curled tighter around the file.

Suddenly, Keifer's phone buzzed loudly on the desk. It was a call from Keigan—his assistant.

Keifer picked it up, not breaking eye contact with her.

Keifer: "Yeah?"

Keigan's voice came through the line, a little nervous.

Keigan: "Brother, the client from the Tokyo branch is online. They've been waiting—"

Keifer: (cutting him off coldly) "Cancel it."

A pause.

Keigan: "Brother…?"

Keifer: "I said cancel that meeting." (He walked slowly toward Jasper, voice dropping into something deeper, more dangerous.)

"I'm already attending the most important meeting of my life."

He tossed the phone on his desk carelessly, eyes never leaving her face.

Now just a breath away, he stopped in front of her. Close enough to hear her soft inhale. Close enough to notice how she still wore the same faint jasmine perfume. Close enough that she had to force herself not to step back.

Keifer (quietly): "Five years… and this is how we meet again?"

Jasper looked away for a second, blinking hard.

She wanted to say something cruel. Or maybe something clever.

But all she managed was a whisper.

Jasper: "I'm not her anymore."

His jaw clenched.

Keifer: "Too late for that, Jay."

The silence was thick with unfinished emotions.

Keifer took a slow, deliberate step forward—then another—until he was standing uncomfortably close to Jay. His hand moved without hesitation, wrapping firmly around her waist and pulling her even closer until there was barely a breath between them.

Keifer (in a low, taunting voice):

"Okay, Miss Jenna… let's come to the point, shall we?"

He leaned in, his lips just beside her ear.

"Are you single right now?"

Jay's eyes widened.

Jay: "Leave me."

But Keifer only smirked, the same infuriating smirk that used to drive her mad years ago.

Keifer:

"Are you single or not? Just tell me. I'll leave you—promise."

Jay's temper spiked, and before she could think twice, the words flew out:

Jay (snapping):

"No! I'm not. I have a very dashing boyfriend."

Keifer paused, cocking an eyebrow. His fingers still rested on her waist. She could feel the heat radiating from his body.

Inside, Jay screamed at herself:

"Why am I lying to him?! Ugh, whatever. If I say I'm single, this crazy idiot might seriously try something."

But her thoughts barely finished when Keifer's grip on her waist tightened, his voice suddenly darker.

Keifer (smiling coldly):

"Okay then… be ready to say goodbye to your dashing boyfriend."

Jay blinked.

Keifer (whispering near her ear):

"If you don't break up with him before midnight… I'll make sure he doesn't wake up tomorrow."

Jay stared at him, stunned, then let out a short, breathy laugh.

He didn't respond—just stared. The tension hung in the air like a stormcloud ready to burst.

Jay straightened her shoulders and finally said, voice sharp and composed:

Jay:

"Sir, can we please talk about the agreement now?"

That word—"Sir"—made something flicker in Keifer's eyes.

His grip slowly loosened, hands falling to his sides.

After a second of silence, he nodded.

Keifer (sighing):

"Please. Have a seat."

Jay sat down on the plush leather chair across from his desk, still feeling the warmth of his touch lingering on her waist.

But this time, she didn't let it show. She placed the file on the desk and looked straight into his eyes heart pounding.

"You can start reading your school agreement now," Keifer said in a commanding yet calm voice, sliding the document toward her.

Jay raised an eyebrow. "Why should I read it? Can't you just explain it to me?"

But then she saw how intensely focused his face looked — no usual smirk, no casual arrogance, just silence and eyes locked on the document.

"Okay, okay, whatever," she mumbled, grabbing the papers.

She started reading, her eyes scanning through lines about curriculum responsibilities, student policies, and expected commitments. But something wasn't letting her concentrate.

She could feel something.

A strange warmth started crawling up her spine.

She paused.

And just then — like some slow-motion scene from a movie — she glanced back.

Keifer.

Standing right behind her.

So close that she could feel the heat of his breath slightly fanning over her shoulder. Her whole body tensed.

Without thinking, she pushed her chair back abruptly and stood up with a jerk.

"What the—?!" she exclaimed softly, spinning around.

Before she could step away, Keifer moved forward. Swift. Dominant. Intentional.

Jay's back hit the edge of the sleek glass table behind her. She couldn't move back any further. Keifer now stood in front of her, just inches away, arms on either side, caging her with a gaze that stripped down every layer of her soul.

Her breath caught.

His eyes didn't blink — those familiar, deep eyes that once felt like home and now felt like danger wrapped in velvet.

Jay's heartbeat began pounding like a war drum in her chest.

What is he doing?

And then her own thoughts betrayed her.

Is he going to kiss me...?

Her eyes widened in shock at her own imagination.

Wait WHAT the actual fuck—why am I thinking this nonsense??

She internally screamed at her brain for going completely off track.

Keifer still didn't move. His gaze slowly traveled from her eyes to her lips, and then back to her eyes again.

Her throat went dry.

She clutched the paper of the agreement in her hands tightly, more as a shield than anything else.

Her body froze, her mind ran wild, and just like that, without thinking—

She closed her eyes.

Just for a second.

But that was all the confirmation Keifer needed.

He smirked, victorious. His plan had worked.

His hand casually reached past her and picked up the agreement paper from the table. His voice broke the silence, dripping with amusement:

"Miss Jenna… what are you thinking about? Why are your eyes closed?"

Jay's eyes flew open.

Her heart dropped to her stomach.

"Wha— I— What!?" she stammered, clearly caught off guard and very embarrassed.

Her cheeks turned a soft pink, and her brows pulled together in irritation.

She knew he did that on purpose.

He came close. He leaned in like that. He triggered that reaction.

And now he was enjoying it.

That jerk.

Before she could come up with a savage comeback, Keifer smoothly walked back to his chair, sat down like nothing happened, and signed the agreement with his sleek black pen.

Then he stood again, straightening his coat with all his billionaire grace, and said with a hint of cool finality,

"Okay, Miss Jenna. I'll talk to your principal later about some formalities. You can leave now."

He gave a perfectly polite nod — like the whole heated moment had never happened.

"Nice to meet you, Jay."

Jay blinked, holding back every emotion running through her. She turned to leave, clutching her bag with slightly shaky fingers, when—

She felt him move again.

Before she could touch the door handle, Keifer leaned in close to her ear, his lips just barely brushing the air near her skin.

His voice, husky and dangerously flirty, whispered low:

"And Jay…"

"Next time we meet…"

"Don't wear this perfume…"

A pause. A smirk in his tone.

"…Otherwise, I won't act sane—

My Queen."

Jay's breath vanished.

Her spine straightened, fingers stiff around the handle.

And Keifer?

Already turned away like he hadn't just set her entire soul on fire.

Author's Note 💌

Okay what just happened 😭 Like be serious Keifer, WHY are you standing that close??

AND JAY??? Girl closed her eyes like she was about to live her Wattpad dream 😭🫣

Let's break this down:

Keifer is clearly doing this on purpose—leaning in, whispering in that husky voice, playing with her perfume-triggered memories like he's in a romantic K-drama 💅

But Jay?

Homegirl is trying so hard not to fall again… meanwhile her body is like "too late babes" 😭💔

AND YUP. HE CALLED HER "MY QUEEN"

Sir??? This is not a fantasy novel, stop acting like Hades trying to reclaim Persephone 💀🔥

Now let's talk about our MVP Advika 😤💅

She knows everything about Jay's past—every tear, every heartbreak, every piece of her that was shattered.

So naturally, she's like:

> "If this man even breathes wrong near my bestie… I WILL SLAP HIS SOUL OUT OF HIS BODY." 😤🫵

But guess what?

Even Advika—our CEO of Bestie Protection Squad—is gonna start noticing that maybe, just maybe…

Keifer isn't trying to hurt Jay again.

He's trying to deserve her this time. 💔

Btw, the boys in school??? Still simping hard for "Miss Jenna M."

One wrote in his diary:

> "I'll become CEO before 25 just to marry her."

AND BRO IS FAILING MATH 😭📉

Jay's like "I'm dying inside" and the students are like "Miss Jenna smile once, my heart needs CPR" 💀

Anywayyyssss…

We meet again in next chapter until that chapter come show your love and suggestions in comment section 💞

(6275 words)🤧