KEIFER POV
The next morning, I drove straight to the Mariano headquarters.
On paper, it was strictly a high-level business meeting with Jasfher and Aries.
In reality, my eyes were already scanning every inch of the marble corridors, fully expecting and desperately hoping to catch even a single glimpse of my Jay Jay.
As we walked past the executive floor, I naturally looked over toward the architectural design department.
Her glass-walled corner studio was completely dark.
Her desk was empty.
No blueprints, no trace of her sunlight, nothing.
“She went out on a field trip to survey a plot of land,” Percy’s voice cut in from behind me, catching me staring.
I tightened my jaw, masked my frustration, and gave a stiff nod.
Of course she took an assignment outside the city today.
She probably smelled my arrival through the underground grapevine and ran as far as possible to avoid breathing the same air as me.
“So, are you ready for the big day?” Percy asked, falling into step beside me with that irritating, knowing smirk plastered on his face.
Fuck yes.
I have been ready for that day since the moment she walked into my life.
But waiting a whole fucking week feels like an eternity in hell.
The only silver lining to having to wait for the gala is getting to see the pathetic look on Yuri Hanamichi’s face when the announcement drops.
That miserable bastard has been clawing at the shadows, trying to outmaneuver me for years.
Watching him realize that he lost to me yet again will be pure entertainment.
And more importantly, I finally get my Jay Jay back where she belongs.
Right at my side.
Right as I was about to push open the heavy double doors to the boardroom, a voice scraped against my nerves like dull metal against bone.
“Mark Keifer Watson. Old friend, long time no see,” Yuri said, leaning against the polished corridor wall with an arrogant, sickening smirk.
Every muscle in my neck locked tight.
A dark, vicious hunger stirred behind my ribs.
Just looking at his face brought back the coppery taste of blood and the memory of holding him down by his throat.
“Yeah, long time,” I said, turning to face him, my voice flat, cold, and stripped of anything human.
“Last time we ran into each other, I nearly snapped your neck and left you in a ditch. Want to finish what we started, or did you forget how to bleed?”
Yuri’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before he masked it with bravado.
“Asshole. I went easy on you that night.”
“Easy?” A dry, lethal chuckle tore from my chest as I took a slow, calculated step toward him, closing the distance until the shadows between us vanished.
“Fine. If you think that was easy, let’s step out into the alley right now and settle it. No guards. Just you, me, and whatever is left of you when I am done.”
I knew what he was doing.
He was prodding, trying to draw the monster out to make me slip up before Jasfher and the elders in the boardroom.
But the bastard had no idea that my sanity was already hanging by a thread.
The only thing tethering me to any form of composure was knowing that in seven days, Jay Jay would be wearing my ring
“Easy, everyone,” Percy cut in, stepping smoothly between us with a lazy, razor-sharp smile.
“Yuri, if you genuinely have a death wish, getting ripped apart by Keifer in a hallway isn’t the glorious exit you think it is. Besides, remember that night? If it weren’t for Jay Jay stepping between you two, you would already be six feet underground.”
Yuri chuckled, puffing out his chest with an insufferable, smug grin.
“Exactly. Jay loved me enough to stand against him and protect me.”
The room seemed to turn freezing cold.
My vision flared red.
The rage turned into pure, suffocating poison in my veins.
My fingers curled into fists so tight that my knuckles turned paper-white, the joints groaning under the pressure.
I wanted nothing more than to smash his teeth down his throat, drag him across the pristine marble floor, and feel his warm blood soak into my skin until that filthy name never left his lips again.
She belongs to me.
Her hands, her breath, her mercy, everything about her is mine.
Before I could tear him to pieces right there, Aries stepped up, his expression carved out of granite.
“Maybe,” Aries said, his voice dropping into that dead, ice-cold authority.
“But you also have to remember that my sister has a soft spot for strays. Jay Jay can’t tell the difference between an asshole like you and a mangy dog dying on the street.”
Percy let out an obnoxious bark of laughter, while Yuri’s face flushed a deep, humiliated crimson.
A cruel smirk pulled at the corner of my mouth as Yuri stood there, choking on Aries’ words.
Without giving the bastard another second of my attention, I shoved past his shoulder hard enough to knock him off balance and walked straight into the boardroom.
The heavy glass and mahogany doors shut behind us, cutting off the noise of the corridor.
Aries and Percy took their seats along the long conference table, and within moments, Jasfher entered the room.
His presence immediately commanded the air, suffocating any lingering chatter.
This was the corporate headquarters of the Mariano empire, strictly clean on paper.
When it came to our underground operations, illegal supply routes, and wet work, we met in the soundproof bunkers beneath the docks.
But here, surrounded by financial analysts, blueprints, and clean suits, the talk was all about commercial real estate acquisitions, corporate mergers, and the expansion of the architectural firm.
My attention was completely elsewhere.
Halfway through the quarterly review of our joint development holdings, my gaze drifted toward the floor-to-ceiling glass partition that looked out across the architectural wing.
There it was.
A flash of light blue moving past the distant frosted panels.
My pulse kicked against my ribs like a hammer.
Blue.
Her signature color.
The shade she wraps herself in whenever she wants to feel untouchable and bright in this corporate world.
I leaned forward in my leather chair, narrowing my eyes, tracking every fraction of movement beyond the glass.
I strained to catch even the smallest glimpse of her face, the curve of her jaw, the way her hair fell over her shoulders, anything to feed the starving obsession tearing through my chest.
But the angle of the conference room worked against me.
A group of junior associates stepped into the walkway with rolled blueprints, blocking the view, and just like that, the splash of blue turned the corner and vanished toward her studio.
I sank back into my seat, my jaw tightening until it ached.
She was under the exact same roof, breathing the same air, yet still slipping right through my fingers.
But not for long.
Seven days, and she won’t be able to turn a corner without running straight into me.
The second the formal presentations wrapped up, I didn’t linger to shake hands with the corporate directors.
I walked out of the boardroom and headed straight for the design wing, my long strides eating up the floor until I stood right in front of her corner studio.
The glass doors were unlocked, but the office was dead quiet.
Her drafting desk was neatly cleared, a half-finished model covered under tracing paper, and the sweet, faint scent of vanilla and citrus that always clings to her skin hung in the empty air.
My chest tightened with frustration.
She was gone again.
I turned around and caught sight of a junior draftsman sitting at a workstation directly across from her glass door.
“Where is Jean?” I demanded, my tone sharp enough to make the air in the hall go brittle.
In this firm, she was strictly Architect Jean Mariano.
She never let anyone call her Jay Jay unless they were family, close friends, or had earned the right.
The kid jumped in his ergonomic chair, dropping his stylus onto the tablet, his eyes going wide as he recognized who was towering over him.
“S-Sir, Ma’am Jean left about ten minutes ago,” he stammered, swallowing hard.
“She said she wasn’t feeling well and took off early.”
Leaving early to avoid me.
The thought made a dark anger coil deep in my stomach.
She would run halfway across the country if it meant avoiding my shadow.
I narrowed my eyes at the young guy sitting there, noticing how uncomfortably clear his direct line of sight into her private glass office was.
“What is your name?” I asked, my voice dangerously calm.
“Ethan, sir,” he squeaked.
“From now on, you work over there,” I said, lifting an arm and pointing across the open-concept floor toward a dim, isolated cubicle tucked far away near the freight elevator, completely cut off from her view.
“Pack your equipment and move.”
“But sir, I…” Ethan started, his brows furrowing in confusion.
I didn’t waste my breath arguing.
I just lowered my gaze, letting the raw, unfiltered violence of the Watson bloodline bleed into my eyes.
The kid choked on his own excuse.
The color drained from his face until he looked like a walking corpse.
He snapped his mouth shut, gave a terrified, frantic nod, and immediately began scrambling to unplug his monitors without uttering another single syllable.
Nobody sits in front of my Jay Jay’s door.
Nobody watches her smile, work, or breathe while she designs.
That view belongs to me