[Jay's POV]
One month. That's how long it had been since the salt air of Ravello and the "Software Update" breakfast. Life as the Watson Empress had become a high-speed blur of board meetings, gala dinners, and those private, late-night moments where Keifer reminded me that I was his Wiefy first and his business partner second.
But lately, the System felt... off.
It started a week ago. A strange, metallic tang in the back of my throat. Then, the morning "Glow" began to feel less like energy and more like a low-grade fever. I tried to run a self-diagnostic. Maybe it's the merger stress? Maybe I'm just exhausted?
But this morning, the "off-line" feeling hit a critical level. I was standing in front of the vanity, trying to pin my hair up for a meeting with the tech heads, when the room suddenly tilted at a 45-degree angle. The expensive marble floor seemed to rush up to meet me, then retreat.
"Jay?" Keifer's voice came from the dressing room, sharp and alert. "Your heart rate just spiked on the monitor. Analysis?"
"I'm... I'm fine, Hubby," I whispered, gripping the edge of the vanity until my knuckles turned white. "Just a bit of—"
I didn't finish. A wave of intense nausea rolled over me, followed by a dizzy spell so violent it felt like someone had pulled the plug on my equilibrium. The world went grey, then black, and the last thing I felt was the sensation of falling into a void.
[Keifer's POV]
I knew before she even hit the floor. The bio-metric sync I'd insisted on—the one the squad teased me about—sent a frantic vibration to my watch. Heart rate erratic. Oxygen levels dipping. Loss of consciousness detected.
I moved faster than I ever had in my life. I caught her just before her head hit the marble, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
"Jay! Jay, look at me!" I rasped, pulling her into my lap.
Her skin, usually radiating that brilliant 100% Glow, was pale—almost translucent. She was limp in my arms, her breathing shallow. For the first time in my life, I felt a fear that no market crash or hostile takeover could ever produce. My "Constant" was flickering.
"Mamma! Pappa!" I roared, my voice echoing through the halls of the mansion with a raw, panicked edge I didn't recognize.
I lifted her, my arms trembling as I carried her to the bed. I didn't care about the meetings. I didn't care about the empire. I hovered over her, rubbing her cold hands, my mind racing through a thousand terrifying variables.
"Wake up, Wiefy," I pleaded, pressing my forehead to hers. "Stay online. That's an order."
Mamma Serina burst into the room, her face pale. She took one look at Jay and then at me. "Keifer, move. Let her breathe."
"She just... she just shut down, Mamma," I said, my voice cracking. "The system crashed."
"It's not a crash, Keifer," Mamma said, her voice surprisingly calm as she checked Jay's pulse. She looked at me with a strange, flickering expression—half-worry, half-realization. "Call Dr. Aris. Now. Tell him to bring the full diagnostic kit to the mansion immediately."
I didn't ask questions. I grabbed my phone, my fingers fumbling as I dialed the private line.
"Aris? Get to the Watson Estate. Now," I commanded, my "CEO" voice returning, though it was underlined with a desperate tremor. "The Empress is unconscious. I don't care what you're doing. If you aren't here in ten minutes, I'll buy your hospital and tear it down."
I hung up and moved back to the bed, taking Jay's hand and kissing her knuckles. The silence in the room was deafening. The system was waiting. And for the first time, the CEO had no idea how to fix the glitch.