[Jay's POV]
The first day of the Chen family's arrival was proving to be a study in extreme social friction. I hadn't made it to the dining table for the formal breakfast. Between the physical exhaustion from my "integration" with Keifer and the overwhelming intensity of the "Office Romance" the day before, my body had finally demanded a timeout. I stayed in bed, drifting in and out of a peaceful sleep, unaware of the storm brewing downstairs.
When I finally emerged around noon, still draped in one of Keifer's thick, navy-blue sweaters and a pair of leggings, I walked into a scene that made Bridget Chen's blood visibly boil.
The "Empress" Treatment
I was barely halfway down the stairs when the Watson "Protection Protocol" kicked in.
"Ate! You're awake!" Keiran shouted, abandoning his Lego set to run to the base of the stairs. "I saved you the best marshmallows from the pantry! Mamma said you needed sugar for your 'brain recovery!"
Keigan followed right behind him, carrying a heated aromatherapy wrap. "Step aside, pipsqueak. Ate, I've got the heated pad for your shoulders. Mamma says you're probably stiff from... uh... 'studying' so hard in the office yesterday." He gave a cheeky wink that I was too tired to even blush at.
I saw Bridget standing by the fireplace, a cup of tea frozen halfway to her lips. She was watching the two Watson heirs—the boys she likely expected to be fawning over her—acting like my personal servants. Her eyes were narrowed into slits of pure, jagged envy.
Then, Mamma Serina appeared from the kitchen, her face lighting up. "Jay, darling! You look much better. I've had the chef prepare a light brunch just for you. Pappa is in the study, but he specifically asked to be notified when you woke up so he could check on you."
"She's fine, Mamma," Keifer's voice rumbled from behind me.
I hadn't even heard him move. He stepped out from the shadows of the hallway and immediately wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, pulling me back into his chest. He rested his chin on my shoulder, his hands splaying across my stomach in a gesture that was so possessive it was practically a territorial claim.
The Escalation
I could feel Bridget's gaze like a physical weight. She was staring at Keifer's hands on me—the way his fingers drummed a rhythmic, affectionate beat against my waist. The lust in her eyes was being rapidly overtaken by a toxic, green jealousy.
"Keifer," Bridget said, her voice strained and brittle. "I thought we were going to look over those Shanghai merger files this morning. You've spent the last four hours hovering outside a bedroom door. Isn't that a bit... inefficient for a CEO?"
Keifer didn't even look at her. He leaned down, nuzzling the sensitive spot behind my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "My most important merger is right here, Bridget. The files can wait. Jay's well-being is the only 'project' that has my undivided attention today."
He turned me around in his arms, ignoring everyone else in the room. He cupped my face with his hands, his thumbs stroking my cheekbones. "How do you feel? Do I need to carry you to the sofa?"
"I can walk, Keifer," I whispered, smiling at his ridiculousness.
I'd rather carry you," he murmured, before leaning in and kissing me—not a quick peck, but a slow, lingering, and deeply romantic kiss that signaled to everyone in the room exactly what we had shared.
The Breaking Point
Across the room, I heard the sharp clink of a teacup hitting a saucer with too much force.
Bridget's face was a mask of suppressed rage. In her world, she was the prize. She was the one who should be pampered by the Watson parents and adored by the Watson sons. Instead, she was a ghost in the room, watching a "simple student" be treated like the sun around which the entire Watson galaxy orbited.
"It's fascinating," Bridget snapped, her voice trembling with spite. "I didn't realize the Watson family had become so... sentimental. In Shanghai, we value strength, not... whatever this is."
Pappa Keizer stepped out of the study at that exact moment, his presence instantly commanding the room. He didn't even acknowledge Bridget's comment. He walked straight to me, offering a rare, fatherly pat on the shoulder.
"The house is only as strong as the heart at its center, Bridget," Pappa said coldly. "And Jay is the heart of this home. Keigan, get the blanket. Keifer, take her to the sunroom. She needs the vitamin D."
As Keifer swept me up into his arms to carry me away, I looked over his shoulder one last time. Bridget was standing alone, her knuckles white as she gripped the back of a chair, watching us leave. The jealousy in her eyes was no longer just a spark—it was a forest fire.
She had come here to claim a Prince. She hadn't realized that the Prince had already built a throne for his Empress, and the entire kingdom was standing guard.