The Velocity of Return
[Keifer's POV]
The London rain was a distant memory, replaced by the humid, heavy air of a Manila midnight.
I didn't wait for the driver to fully stop the SUV in the driveway. I was out the door before the engine had even cut, my suit jacket discarded somewhere on the private jet, my tie long gone, and my shirt unbuttoned at the collar. My pulse was a frantic, rhythmic drumming in my ears—the only sound that mattered.
"Sir, your luggage—" the valet started.
"Leave it," I barked, not looking back.
I took the stairs of the estate three at a time. My father, Keizer, was right behind me, his face a mask of grim determination. He knew. We both knew what the Marianos had tried to do. They had weaponized my silence. They had used a five-year-old photo of a cousin and a handful of lies to try and break the girl I was ready to burn the world for.
I reached the second floor, my boots muffled by the thick hallway carpet. I saw my mother, Serina, standing outside the Blue Suite. She looked tired, but when she saw me, her eyes blazed with a mixture of relief and fury.
"She finally fell asleep an hour ago," Mamma whispered, her hand resting on the gold door handle. "Keifer, she was shattered. She thought..."
"I know what she thought," I rasped, my voice sounding like broken glass. "I'm going to kill him, Mamma. I don't care if he's a Mariano. I'm going to ruin him for this."
"Fix her first," she said softly, stepping aside. "The war can wait until morning."
I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to force the adrenaline down. I didn't want to bring the scent of the boardroom or the heat of my rage into her room. I waited until my hands stopped shaking. Then, I turned the handle.
The door opened with a silence so absolute it felt like the air itself was holding its breath.
The room was bathed in the pale, silver glow of the moon. I moved like a ghost across the floor, my eyes fixing on the small figure huddled in the center of the massive bed. Jay. She looked so small, so incredibly fragile under the silk sheets. Even in sleep, her brow was furrowed, and her fingers were locked tight around that ridiculous plush bear.
I stood there for a full minute, just watching her breathe. The guilt was a physical weight, crushing my lungs. I had promised to be her shield, yet my absence had been the very thing that let the arrows through.
I kicked off my boots and moved with agonizing slowness. I didn't want to wake her—not yet. I wanted to anchor her. I slid into the bed behind her, the mattress barely dipping under my weight.
The moment I was close enough to feel her warmth, the tension that had been coiled in my spine for three days finally snapped. I reached out, my arm sliding over her waist, pulling her back against my chest. I buried my face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and the faint, sweet smell of the Watson estate's lilies.
She felt like home. She felt like the only thing in the universe that was real.
Suddenly, I felt her stiffen. A small, soft gasp escaped her lips.
"Keifer?" she whispered, her voice thick with sleep and the remnants of tears.
"I'm here, Jay," I murmured into her skin, my grip tightening just a fraction. "I'm right here."
She didn't hesitate. She turned in my arms with a frantic energy, her movements blurred in the dark. In an instant, she was facing me, her hands clutching the front of my shirt as if she were afraid I'd evaporate if she let go. She tucked her head under my chin, hiding her face against my chest, her entire body trembling against mine.
"You're back," she choked out, a fresh sob catching in her throat. "I saw... the news... I thought you chose... I thought I was just—"
"Shhh," I hushed her, my hand finding the back of her head, my fingers tangling in her hair to pull her closer. "Never. Don't you ever believe a word they say, Jay. I was in a boardroom fighting for your name. I was destroying the very people who tried to print those lies. I didn't call because I was too busy making sure they could never hurt you again."
"You scared me," she whispered, her voice muffled by my shirt. "I felt like I was back in that bus, Keifer. I felt like I was back in a world where I didn't matter."
I closed my eyes, a single tear of my own escaping. "I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry, Jay. It's a Watson Decree—it's my decree. You are the only thing that matters. Not the merger, not the empire. Just you."
I felt her relax then, the rigidity leaving her limbs as she finally accepted that I was solid, that I was real, and that I wasn't going anywhere. We weren't "official." We hadn't used the words boyfriend or girlfriend or lovers. But as we lay there, our legs tangled and our hearts beating in a frantic, synchronized rhythm, the labels felt small.
I didn't need a label to know that I belonged to her. I didn't need a contract to know that she was the other half of my soul.
"Go back to sleep," I whispered, kissing the top of her head. "I'm not leaving. Not for a meeting, not for a merger. Not for anything."
"Promise?"
"On my life, Jasper Jean."
She gave a small, contented hum, her grip on my shirt loosening as she drifted back toward the sleep she so desperately needed. I stayed awake for a long time after that, watching the moon move across the floor, holding her as if she were the most precious variable in a world of chaos.
The Marianos thought they could use distance to divide us. They thought they could use lies to break her spirit. But they forgot one thing: A Watson doesn't just make decrees.
A Watson protects what is theirs. And Jay? She was mine.