The boardroom was all glass and steel and false smiles.
Jay stood at the head of the table, calm, composed, tablet resting lightly in her hands as she presented the project—her project. The room listened, because something about her voice made people lean in without realizing why.
Then Raphael spoke.
Sharp.Precise.Unyielding.
"This proposal risks destabilizing three sectors at once," he said coolly. "You're gambling with influence."
The room stiffened.
Jay lifted her eyes to him.
For a moment, it looked like war.
Two leaders.Two storms.Facing each other like sworn enemies.
The air cracked.
But Jay didn't raise her voice.
She smiled—small, respectful, devastating.
"You're wrong," she said evenly. "And you know it."
Raphael had always known.
The world was about to make the same mistake it always did with Jay.
London whispered her name like a prayer—charitable, kind, helping.
They remembered the girl who smiled gently in boardrooms, .
What they forgot—was the storm that chose to sleep inside her. she was the one who fought for women who cant fight for themself
Jay was coming back to London, and the world still believed she could never hurt a soul.
Raphael almost laughed at that.
Because when a woman comes for revenge, even the devil sits back and takes notes.
They thought she'd be easy to corner.Easy to pressure.Easy to outvote.
They forgot why she was once called Alpha.
You can exile her.You can isolate her.But you cannot break her.
An Alpha like Jayjay doesn't need a pack to be strong—she is the reason the pack is strong.
She doesn't lead from the front to be seen.She leads from the center, to make sure no one is lost.
And Raphael knew—the moment she walked back into that meeting room, everything would tilt.