The dinner seating was clearly orchestrated by someone who thrived on chaos. Jay, Keifer, Angelo, Honey, Aries, and Ella were all packed onto one table, creating a pressure cooker of passive-aggression.
Just as Jay was struggling to ignore Ella's persistent attempts to catch Keifer's eye, a familiar, smooth voice cut through the tension.
"Jay? Is that you?."
Yuri walked into the hall, looking effortlessly stylish. Jay's eyes lit up—not because she was genuinely thrilled to see him, but because she saw the immediate, dark shadow that crossed Keifer's face. She stood up, flashing Yuri a radiant, overly dramatic smile.
"Yuri! Oh my god, it's been forever!" Jay chirped, making sure her voice carried perfectly to Keifer's ears. She turned to Keifer with a sugary-sweet pout. "Keifer, darling, do you mind if I catch up with Yuri for a moment?
Keifer's grip on his wine glass tightened until his knuckles turned white. "Be my guest, Jay," he replied, his voice dropping into a chilling, dangerous register. "I'm sure you have so much to discuss."
Yuri chuckled, stepping closer to pull out a chair for Jay. He reached out to gently squeeze her hand, his bright red hair catching the light
That was when the "Watson Security Protocol" kicked in.
Keira, sitting in her high-tech portable chair right next to Jay, let out a sharp, indignant squeak. She leaned forward, her tiny, incredibly strong hand lashing out to grab a firm fistful of Yuri's vibrant red hair. She gave it a vicious, calculated yank.
"OW! Hey!" Yuri yelped, startled.
Before he could react, Jayden joined the fray. From the other side, the little "drama king" let out a piercing shriek of pure dislike, leaning over to grab a second handful of Yuri's hair and pulling it with all his might in the opposite direction.
Yuri was trapped in a tug-of-war between two babies who had clearly decided he was public enemy number one.
"They... they have a very firm grip," Yuri stammered, his face twisting as his hair was pulled taut. He tried to maintain his composure, but his eyes were watering.
Jay started laughing, a genuine, delighted sound. "Oh, I am so sorry, Yuri! They're just... very protective of their mother. Isn't that right, Keira? Don't pull uncle Yuri's hair!" She made absolutely zero effort to stop them.
Keifer sat back in his chair, watching the scene unfold. A slow, predatory smile spread across his face as he watched Yuri struggle to free himself from the twins' grasp. The jealousy that had been burning in his chest seconds ago vanished, replaced by pure, cold satisfaction.
"Need some help, Yuri?" Keifer asked, his voice smooth and mocking. He didn't move a muscle to intervene. "My daughter has a very high standard for who she allows near her family. Apparently, you don't meet the criteria."
Yuri finally managed to pry his hair loose, looking disheveled and thoroughly embarrassed. "Right. I think I'll just... go find a drink."
As Yuri retreated, rubbing his scalp, Keifer reached out and grabbed Jay's hand, pulling her back into her seat. He leaned in, his eyes dark and possessive.
"Very entertaining, Jay," he whispered, his thumb grazing her wrist. "But don't think for a second that stunt made me jealous. It just reminded me that you belong to me—and that our children have excellent taste in enemies."
Jay leaned into him, her heart doing a familiar, frantic flutter. "Are you sure? Because you looked ready to throw a chair at him, Keifer."
Keifer just smirked, glancing over at Ella—who looked thoroughly ignored—and then back to his wife. "I don't throw chairs, Jay. I destroy competitors. Yuri is barely worth the effort."
The dinner table was silent, everyone watching the power couple who had just turned a wedding reception into their own personal game of dominance.