JAY JAY POV
It felt like hours, but it was probably only thirty minutes before the bedroom door clicked shut again. I didn't even have to look up to know he'd finally dismissed the "CEO" for the night. I heard the soft rustle of his dress shirt hitting the chair and the heavy thud of his holster being locked away in the bedside safe.
The mattress dipped significantly as his weight settled beside me. Without a word, Keifer reached out and hooked his arm around my waist, pulling me backward until my spine was flush against his chest.
"Finally," he grunted, his voice sounding raw and exhausted. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. "You have no idea how much I've wanted to do this all day."
I leaned back into him, my head resting on his shoulder. Even through the thick fabric of his oversized hoodie, I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. His large hand slid down, splaying flat across my stomach—the same protective gesture he'd been making ever since the appointment.
"Is everything okay with Uncle Henry?" I asked softly, covering his hand with mine.
"Everything is handled, Jay Jay," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. "Don't worry about the noise outside. Just focus on me. Focus on the baby."
He shifted, pulling me even closer until there wasn't a breath of air between us. He started to trail slow, feather-light kisses from my shoulder up to the sensitive spot behind my ear, making me shiver.
"You're so small in my clothes," he chuckled darkly, his thumb tracing the hem of the hoodie. "It makes me want to keep you locked in this room forever."
"Keifer..." I warned, but I couldn't help the small smile on my lips.
"I'm serious," he said, his tone shifting back to that possessive growl I knew so well. He turned me in his arms so I was facing him, his dark eyes searching mine in the dim light of the room. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep this peace, Jay. Even if I have to be the monster the world thinks I am."
I reached up, cupping his face and forcing him to look at me. "You're not a monster to me, Keifer. You're my husband. You're the father of my child."
His expression softened, the hard lines around his mouth finally relaxing. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine, his eyes fluttering shut.
"Then let me just be that for tonight," he whispered.
I nodded, closing my eyes as he pulled the duvet over us both, cocooning us in the scent of sandalwood and safety. Outside, the guards were pacing the perimeter and the shadows of Manila were shifting, but here, in the circle of his arms, the world was finally quiet. I drifted off to sleep to the rhythmic thrum of his heart against my ear—the same steady beat that promised me he would never, ever let go.
++++++++4months later+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
JAY JAY POV
Four months had flown by in a blur of prenatal vitamins, ultrasounds, and Keifer's relentless nesting. My bump was finally making its grand appearance, a cute little curve that Keifer was absolutely obsessed with.
The tension that had gripped him when we first arrived in Manila seemed to have simmered down. The "CEO and Protector" was still there, but he wasn't looking over his shoulder every five seconds anymore. Or maybe he'd just gotten better at hiding the war from me. Either way, he seemed at ease, and that meant I could breathe again.
We were back at our favorite ice cream spot, the same one where Keifer had laughed at me months ago. Only this time, the cravings had taken a very... creative turn.
I sat there, blissfully dunking extra-salty potato chips into a large bowl of rocky road ice cream. The combination of cold, sweet chocolate and the greasy, salty crunch of the chips was basically a religious experience for me right now.
I looked up and caught Keifer staring at me. He was leaning back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand while the other rested protectively on the table near mine. His expression was a mix of fascination and genuine horror.
"What?" I asked, my mouth half-full of a chocolate-covered chip.
"Should I be worried?" he asked, his dark eyebrows shooting up toward his hairline. He looked like he was witnessing a laboratory experiment gone wrong.
I swallowed and wiped a stray bit of salt from my lip. "Why would you be?"
"Babe, you're eating chips and ice cream," Keifer said, gesturing toward my bowl as if it were a crime scene. "Together. In the same bite. I've seen you close multi-million dollar deals with more grace than you're showing that snack."
I rolled my eyes, feeling that familiar spark of stubbornness. "So what? It's good! It's the perfect balance of salt and sugar. The baby loves it." I held out a chip dripping with melting marshmallow and chocolate. "Want to try it?"
Keifer recoiled slightly, a genuine, boyish smirk breaking through his usual stoic mask. He looked at the dripping chip, then back at my hopeful face.
"Nah," he said, his voice dropping into that smooth, rumbling tone that still made my heart dance. "I don't think I want to be that lucky today, Jay Jay. I'll stick to my black coffee and watching you make a mess."
I pouted, popping the chip into my own mouth. "Your loss, Hubby. It's a masterpiece."
He laughed, that deep, rich sound that always made the villa feel like a home instead of a fortress. He reached across the table, his thumb catching a smudge of chocolate on my chin—just like he did months ago. But this time, his eyes didn't flick to the window. They stayed on me.
"As long as you're happy, Jay," he murmured, his gaze softening with an intensity that made my skin tingle. "You can eat the whole menu with a side of gravel if that's what it takes to keep that smile on your face."
I grinned, leaning forward. "Does that mean I can get a second order of chips?"
Keifer groaned, but he was already signaling the waiter. "God help me. I'm raising a tiny version of you, aren't I?"
"The best version," I corrected, patting my stomach.
For the first time in a long time, the shadows felt far away.
The peaceful bubble we'd lived in for the last few months didn't just pop; it shattered.
We were walking away from the shop, the humid air finally cooling as evening approached. Keifer was mid-sentence, saying something ridiculous about how the baby was probably going to demand caviar next, and I was laughing so hard my sides ached. For a second, I forgot who we were. I forgot the guards, the shadows, and the past.
"Jay Jay!"
The voice was like a bucket of ice water over my head. I froze, the laughter dying in my throat. I knew that voice.
I turned slowly, my heart hammering against my ribs. Standing there was a woman who looked like a faded, weathered version of the face I saw in the mirror every morning. My mother.
"Oh my god," she whispered, her eyes traveling down to my midsection. Her gaze snagged on the unmistakable curve of my bump. "You're pregnant."
My stomach did a somersault that had nothing to do with the ice cream. Instinctively, I reached out and clutched Keifer's arm, my fingers digging into the fabric of his sleeve. The warmth I'd felt moments ago vanished, replaced by a cold, numbing dread.
"Keifer, I want to go home," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Now."
Keifer's entire aura shifted. The relaxed "husband" vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by a wall of lethal, protective ice. He stepped slightly in front of me, his eyes narrowing as he looked at my mother and the man stepping up behind her. My father.
"Jay, please," my father said, his voice thick with a desperation that felt oily and wrong. "We know what we did was wrong. We heard you were in the city and... please, sweetheart, just give us another chance."
The "sweetheart" felt like a slap. Where were they when I was struggling? Where was this "chance" when they turned their backs on me?
"Keifer," I called out again, my voice smaller this time. I couldn't breathe.
"Let's go," Keifer said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He started to guide me toward the waiting SUV, his hand firm on my waist.
"Jay! We're talking to you!" my mother suddenly yelled, her voice shrill enough to make a few passersby stop and stare. The mask of the grieving parent was already slipping, revealing the demanding woman I remembered.
I stopped. I couldn't help it. The old reflex of being the "obedient daughter" flared up for a second before I crushed it. I turned around, my spine stiffening.
"Please, Mrs. Mariano, don't yell," I said, my voice cold and steady despite the shaking in my hands. I looked around at the people starting to whisper. "Not here."
"Just... let's just talk, Jay," Mom said, her tone softening into a plea that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Please. Five minutes."
I felt Keifer's gaze on the side of my head. I looked up at him, searching for an escape, but I also saw the question in his eyes. He wasn't going to force me to run, and he wasn't going to force me to stay. He was giving me the power.
Go ahead, it's your choice, his silence seemed to say. I'll bury them or I'll sit with you. You decide.
I took a shaky breath, looking at the two people who had broken my heart long before the world ever got a chance to. If I didn't face them now, they would keep haunting the edges of my life.
"Fine," I said, my voice barely audible. "There is a coffee shop nearby. We can talk there."
I turned back to Keifer, looping my arm tightly around his, drawing strength from the solid, unyielding heat of him.
My parents looked at Keifer—at the way his hand was hovering near his jacket, at the way his eyes promised violence if they stepped out of line—and they nodded.
As we walked toward the coffee shop, Keifer leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. "One word, Jay Jay," he whispered, "and I'll make them disappear before the coffee hits the table. You don't owe them a damn thing."
"I know," I whispered back, clutching him tighter. "But I need to close this door, Keifer. Once and for all."
The tension was thick enough to suffocate, but Keifer—ever the tactician—knew exactly how to pull me back from the edge of a panic attack. As we walked the short distance to the coffee shop with my parents trailing awkwardly behind us like ghosts, he leaned down, his voice dropping into that private, playful register that belonged only to me.
"So, what do you think? Is it going to be a boy or a girl?" he asked, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand, grounding me.
I looked up at him, the sight of his sharp jawline and the protective silver in his eyes making the dread in my chest loosen just a fraction. I managed a small, genuine smile. "I think it's going to be a mini Keifer," I said, the thought of a tiny version of him—suit and all—making my heart swell.
"Woah, a Mini Keifer?" he repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in mock alarm. He let out a low huff of a laugh. "Then I should be scared, shouldn't I?"
"Why?" I asked, leaning into his side. "You'd be the best role model he could have."
"Why? Because he's going to steal my wife from me," Keifer said, his voice flat with feigned seriousness. "I can already see it. He'll use those puppy-dog eyes I clearly gave him, and suddenly I'll be relegated to the guest room while he gets all the cuddles."
I couldn't help it; a bubbled-over laugh escaped me, echoing against the glass storefronts. The image of the big, bad Keifer Watson being jealous of a toddler was too much. "You're ridiculous! You're jealous of a baby that hasn't even been born yet?"
"I'm a possessive man, Jay Jay. You know this," he murmured, though the corners of his mouth were twitching. "I don't like sharing, even with my own DNA."
The laughter helped. It put a temporary shield between us and the two people walking ten paces behind. But as we reached the heavy wooden doors of the coffee shop, the humor faded, replaced by a cold, sharp reality.
Keifer stepped forward and opened the door, his eyes immediately scanning the room—checking the exits, the patrons, the staff. He waited until I was safely inside before he turned back to my parents, his face instantly shifting from a loving husband to a man who could end a career with a single phone call.
"Five minutes," Keifer said to them, his voice like grinding stones. "And if you say one thing that upsets her, this conversation—and your presence in this city—ends immediately. Am I clear?"
My father swallowed hard, nodding quickly, while my mother clutched her handbag, looking at Keifer with a mix of awe and terror. They followed us to a quiet corner booth, but as I sat down, I didn't look at them. I kept my eyes on Keifer as he sat beside me, his arm draped over the back of the seat, his presence a literal wall between me and my past.
"Order whatever you want, Jay," Keifer said, his voice softening just for me