[Jay's POV]
If Bridget's jealousy was a data stream, the servers would have crashed by now.
The afternoon sun poured into the glass-walled sunroom, but the atmosphere inside was freezing—at least in the five-foot radius surrounding Bridget Chen. I was currently "installed" on a chaise lounge, tucked under a weighted blanket. Keifer was sitting at my feet, using my shins as a desk for his iPad, but his hand never stopped moving; he was absentmindedly rubbing my ankles through the soft fabric of his sweater.
Bridget was pacing the perimeter like a caged panther. Every time Keifer's thumb swiped over my skin, or every time I let out a soft laugh at something Keiran said, I could practically hear her teeth grinding.
The "Accidental" Intrusion
"Keifer," Bridget said, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. She marched over, standing directly over us so her shadow fell across my face. "I've been looking at the logistics for the new research wing. There's an opening for a Senior Analyst. Since your... friend... is so fond of your shirts, perhaps she'd like a job? It might give her something to do other than being a professional pillow."
The room went silent. Keigan, who was busy playing a video game nearby, actually paused his controller.
Keifer didn't even look up from his screen. He just tightened his grip on my ankle. "Jay doesn't need a job from you, Bridget. She's already been offered a fellowship at the university's top lab. And as for her being a 'pillow'..." He finally looked up, his eyes dead and cold. "I'm the one who won't let her move. If you have a problem with her resting, you have a problem with my executive orders."
Bridget's face turned a mottled shade of red. "You're being ridiculous! You're treating her like she's made of porcelain! She's just a girl, Keifer!"
The Tea Incident
Just then, Mamma Serina walked in with a fresh tray of herbal tea. "Jay, dear, I've added a bit of honey for your throat. You sounded a bit breathless this morning."
The implication made Bridget's eyes nearly pop out of her head. She knew exactly why I might be breathless.
"I'll take that, Auntie," Bridget snapped, reaching for the tray. As she walked past me, she made a sharp, jerky movement. The cup tipped precariously, hot liquid sloshing toward the sleeve of the navy-blue sweater I was wearing—Keifer's favorite cashmere.
Before a single drop could touch me, Keifer moved with the speed of a combat-trained AI. He caught Bridget's wrist in mid-air, his grip so firm the tea sloshed back into the saucer instead of onto me.
"Careful, Bridget," Keifer hissed, his voice a low, dangerous warning. "This sweater is worth more than your entire luggage set. And the woman inside it? She's priceless. If you 'accidentally' trip again, you'll be spending the rest of your vacation in a hotel at the airport."
The Breaking Point
Bridget snatched her wrist back, her chest heaving. She looked at me—sitting there, protected by the most powerful man she knew, pampered by his mother, and entertained by his brothers. She saw the "Glow" on my skin, the hickey Keifer had poorly hidden with the collar of the sweater, and the absolute, unwavering devotion in his eyes.
"You think you've won, don't you?" Bridget whispered to me, her voice trembling with a level of jealousy that felt almost physical. "You're just a phase, Jay. Men like Keifer marry for power, not for... for this."
I looked at her, and for the first time, I didn't feel intimidated. I felt pity. My internal calculation was simple: she was fighting for a prize that had already been given away.
"Bridget," I said softly, leaning forward so Keifer's hand moved to my waist. "In engineering, we have something called a 'Permanent Set.' It's a point where a material is changed so deeply it can never go back to its original shape. That's what Keifer and I are. This isn't a phase. It's a structural change."
Keifer smirked, pulling me closer and kissing my temple right in front of her. "Exactly. Now, Bridget? Go find something to do. You're polluting the air in my sunroom."
Bridget let out a choked sound—half-sob, half-scream—and bolted from the room, her heels clicking furiously against the marble.
I leaned my head against Keifer's shoulder, watching her go. The jealousy was only going to get worse, but as I felt Keifer's heartbeat steady against my arm, I realized it didn't matter. Her fire couldn't melt the ice of the Watson Estate, and it certainly couldn't burn through the bond of the Empress and her Prince.