JAY JAY POV
“Good evening, everyone. I am truly honored and happy to see every single one of you here tonight,” Dad continued, his voice smoothly projecting through the sound system with pure, rehearsed charm.
“It has been an extraordinary blessing to steer this empire, building upon a legacy that stretches back through generations.”
The crowd murmured in respectful agreement.
“One hundred years ago, my great-grandfather laid the very first stone of what would become the Mariano enterprise,” Papa said, gesturing grandly with one hand.
Great.
Fantastic.
We are literally going all the way back to great-great-grandpa and his dusty bricks.
At this rate, we won’t get to the actual point until tomorrow morning, and my stomach is actively auditioning to be a bass drum.
I leaned slightly to my right, keeping my lips barely moving while maintaining a serene, glazed-over smile for the cameras.
“So… on a scale from one to treason, how wrong would it be if I casually faked a seizure and crawled off this stage right now?” I whispered to Percy.
“It is already wrong that you’re opening your mouth. Shut up and listen to Dad,” Aries shot back instantly from my left, not even turning his head, standing stiff as a marble statue.
“Honestly? I’m thinking about making a run for it too, sis,” Percy whispered back from my right, completely tuning out Dad’s history lesson and casually throwing charming winks and bright, photogenic smiles at three different heiresses in the front row.
“I see a chocolate fountain near the exit. We could make a break for it if Aries looks away for two seconds.”
“I can hear both of you,” Aries muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening.
“Behave. The entire world is watching us.”
“They’re watching Dad ramble about ancestors,” I grumbled through my teeth.
“If I faint from hunger, make sure you drag my body toward the buffet, not the clinic.”
Aries didn’t say another word, but I could practically feel the physical strain of him fighting with every fiber of his being not to roll his eyes right into his skull on live television.
“—and finally, when it came to our modern era, the future was placed in the hands of my three children: Percy, Aries, and Jean,” Papa declared, his rich voice echoing with pride.
The three of us straightened up in unison, our silly bickering cutting off instantly as our eyes snapped toward him.
“I am immensely proud of every single one of them,” Dad said, turning his head slightly to look at us, the fierce mafia don softening with unmistakable warmth.
“My sons, standing as pillars beside me, helping to run this massive enterprise, expanding our reach, and making sure our foundation remains completely unbreakable in an unpredictable world.”
The crowd erupted into enthusiastic applause again, several foreign syndicate bosses nodding in respect toward Aries and Percy.
“And then, my only daughter,” Dad continued, his eyes locking directly onto me, the spotlight suddenly shifting to me.
“My Jean. An architect of rare brilliance, who builds rather than destroys, and who has brought light, warmth, and grace into the Mariano legacy.”
My throat tightened.
“Of course, it is deeply unfortunate that my beloved wife is not standing here tonight to witness these extraordinary achievements, to see the incredible people her children have become,” Dad said, his voice dropping into a solemn, heavy cadence that silenced the entire hall.
I instantly lowered my head, staring fixedly at the polished stage floor, biting the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper just to keep the tears from spilling over my lashes.
Because all four of us standing on this platform knew the brutal, agonizing truth: Mom would never be happy to see what her husband and sons had turned into.
Her violent death had cracked our family in half, dragging Dad into cold-blooded ruthlessness and turning Percy and Aries into hardened, lethal men whose hands were stained with blood just to avenge her.
My gaze flickered toward the large oil portrait placed on an easel near the center of the stage Mom, painted in soft oils, smiling with that gentle, radiant warmth she used to wrap around us when we were little.
A warm hand slid into mine.
Percy gently laced his fingers through my trembling ones, giving them a firm, reassuring squeeze.
He didn’t look at me, keeping his chin high for the press, but his grip was an anchor holding me upright.
“She would be endlessly proud of the men her boys have grown into,” Dad continued, looking up toward her portrait.
“And above all, she would be proud of her daughter a young woman selfless enough to step away from the family empire’s corporate throne to let her brothers lead, determined to build her own career from the ground up as an architect, and who has always wanted—”
Dad paused, his eyes sweeping across the ballroom until they locked directly onto the front row, right where Mark Keifer Watson stood waiting in the shadows.
“—to protect the foundation of this family, no matter what sacrifices it asks of her.”
“Finally, beyond this remarkable centennial milestone—because while a hundred years of the Mariano legacy is monumental, our house has one more extraordinary, blessed event to celebrate tonight,” Papa said, his voice ringing with pure, resonant authority across the quiet ballroom.
Great.
Fantastic.
Here it comes.
He is actually saying it out loud, in front of high-society billionaires, foreign mafia syndicates, and thirty blinding press cameras, making it completely, terrifyingly official.
The entire hall leaned in, guests whispering behind champagne flutes as the tension ratcheted up to a fever pitch.
Beside me, Percy’s fingers tightened around mine, while Aries stood like a steel wall at my left, his jaw set in stone.
“To strengthen the future of our legacy and unite two great houses in unbreakable faith,” Dad continued, smiling with the poise of an undisputed king as his hand gestured toward the front row.
“It is my greatest honor to announce the formal engagement of my daughter, Jean Mariano, to the heir of the Watson empire—Mark Keifer Watson.”
The room seemed to pause for one breathless, frozen second before erupting into a deafening roar of applause, cheers, and the rapid-fire clicking of camera shutters.
The stage spotlight swung violently away from Dad, cutting through the dimmed ballroom until it locked directly onto Keifer.
He stood there tall and lethal in his matching burgundy velvet, dark eyes burning with victory, slowly ascending the stage stairs to claim his prize.
Keifer climbed the stage stairs with that smooth, deliberate stride of his, every eye in the room tracking his movements.
Percy gave my hand one last squeeze before letting go and stepping back, giving me a quiet, pointed look that basically said, Do not start a riot right now.
With a gentle nudge, my brothers cleared the path so I could step toward the center of the platform.
Keifer stopped right in front of me.
His face softened into a rare, breathtaking smile that looked so radiant and victorious you would actually believe this was a fairy-tale romance instead of a mafia power-play.
Fine.
Two can play the PR game.
I tilted my chin up and flashed my most dazzling, picture-perfect society smile straight back at him.
His large, warm hand slid effortlessly around my waist, pulling me flush against his side.
“This union represents not only the unbreakable alliance between the Mariano and Watson empires, but the shared future and profound happiness of Keifer and Jean,” Dad announced grandly into the microphone, raising his crystal champagne flute high into the air.
“Ladies and gentlemen, a toast to the couple!”
The ballroom erupted into deafening cheers and wild applause, glasses clinking across every table.
“And to ensure no momentum is lost,” Dad added with a victorious grin, “the wedding will take place next Sunday.”
Seven days.
For the next hour, we were paraded around the stage like prize trophies.
We clinked glasses with foreign ambassadors, smiled at corporate executives, and shook hands with cartel dons until my jaw literally ached from smiling.
The second Dad got dragged into a debate about harbor freight routes, I saw my opening.
“Excuse me for a moment,” I murmured to the nearest group of heiresses, slipping away from the crowded ballroom floor and ducking into the quiet, dimly lit corridor that led toward the private executive restrooms.
The silence of the hallway was heavenly.
I let out a massive, ragged sigh, rolling my tight shoulders.
Then, the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up
I whipped around on my stilettos, smoothing my dress down, and sure enough, emerging from the shadows was Mark Keifer Watson himself.
“What?” I asked, raising an eyebrow with as much exhaustion as I could muster.
“Nothing,” he murmured, his voice low and smoky as he closed the distance between us.
“I just didn’t want to leave my wife-to-be wandering around unattended.”
“Relax. I am literally just going to powder my nose. I won’t run away,” I told him dryly, taking half a step backward toward the restroom door.
“I’m wearing five-inch heels, Keifer. I couldn’t outrun a turtle right now even if I tried.”
He didn’t laugh.
He flicked a cold, sharp glance over his shoulder to ensure the corridor was completely empty, and before I could even blink, his hand shot out and clamped firmly around my left wrist.
“Keifer, what the hell are you doing?! Let me go!” I hissed, trying to wrench my arm back.
Dammit.
His grip was like a steel vise.
I pulled with everything I had, but the man didn’t budge even an inch.
Either the lingering cold had completely drained my physical strength, or Keifer Watson was just absurdly, terrifyingly strong.
And then my stomach dropped into my shoes.
He was holding the exact same wrist Yuri had bruised earlier, and his thumb was pressing directly against the swollen, tender skin
+++++++++++++++++++++
URGHHHHHHHHHHHH
I did it again!
😭 I am so, so sorry everyone I keep posting the wrong chapters in the wrong stories!
As you can probably tell, I am absolutely exhausted.
I just noticed that I mixed them up.
I’ve been incredibly stressed because I have three assignments due tomorrow night and almost no time, especially since I spent all my free hours writing these stories for you guys.
I am so sorry!
I’ll do my best to make sure I don’t mix up any more chapters in the future.