JAY'S POV — BREAKFAST, PAIN, AND A MAN WHO DOESN'T LET ME WALK
I walked into the dining area pretending everything was normal.
Like I hadn't just almost passed out from Keifer leaving a whole Greek-god-in-a-towel performance in front of me.
Like my legs weren't actively plotting my murder for what happened last night.
Like my heart wasn't doing parkour in my chest every time he looked at me.
He was already there, fully dressed now — black shirt, sleeves rolled, hair still a little damp.
Unfair.
I slid into a chair—
—or I tried to.
The moment I bent my knees, pain shot up my thighs.
I froze.
Keifer, of course, noticed instantly.
His fork paused mid-air, eyes narrowing just slightly.
"Jay."
"…don't."
"You're in pain."
"I'm fine," I lied like the liar of the century.
"You're not."
Before I could protest, he stood up, walked around the table—
—and lifted me.
Bridal style.
Just scooped me up like I weighed nothing.
"KEIFER! Put me down!"
"No."
"I can walk!"
"You tried. You failed."
"I DID NOT—"
He sat back down but with me on his lap.
Like it was the most normal morning routine.
One arm around my waist, the other reaching casually for his coffee while I was sitting on him.
"I can't eat like this," I muttered.
"Yes you can."
He adjusted me closer.
"There. Perfect."
I swear my soul left my body.
The butler set the plates in front of us like he'd seen this a thousand times and was spiritually over it.
I picked up my fork, trying to pretend this was fine.
Totally fine.
Absolutely not intimate or illegal.
But Keifer… Keifer had other plans.
He didn't eat.
He didn't move.
He just watched me.
Then—leaned in.
His lips touched my neck.
A soft kiss.
Then another.
And another.
Each one lower, slower, hotter.
"Keifer," I whispered, gripping his arm, "stop—"
"Why?" His mouth brushed the curve of my shoulder. "You taste good."
"WE ARE— TRYING— TO EAT—"
"I am eating."
He nipped lightly at my skin.
I nearly dropped the fork.
His breath was warm, his smirk resting right against my pulse.
My entire existence was malfunctioning.
Somehow I still managed to take a bite, because if I didn't eat, I'd probably faint on him.
He chuckled against my neck.
"Pretty."
"I— stop complimenting me while you— while you're literally— stop."
He didn't stop.
Of course he didn't.
He kissed below my ear again, slow enough to make my spine arch—
And that's when my phone buzzed violently on the table.
I groaned, reaching over with the least stable hand in history.
ETHAN: Meeting at 2:30. Where are you?
ETHAN: *Hello???
ETHAN AGAIN: Jay, investors are literally waiting for you please respond—
Great.
Then:
ZACK: Boss, the crew needs your decision on layout. Also, where the hell are you? You vanished.
Then another:
ZACK AGAIN: Send the files asap before Ethan cries.
I sighed and started tapping a reply with slightly trembling fingers.
Keifer glanced down at the screen.
"Work?"
I nodded, typing back:
Jay: I'll join the meeting remotely. Tell the team I'll send the files.
I barely got halfway through the message when Keifer's hand slid up my waist, fingers brushing just under my top.
I stiffened.
"Keifer—I'm LITERALLY replying to work—"
"Mhm," he murmured into my neck, lips brushing skin he had no right making feel that warm.
"Do your work."
He said it in that tone.
That tone that absolutely did not mean work.
I grabbed his wrist. "Behave."
"I am."
"You're kissing my neck!"
"Very behaved," he said, kissing lower.
I gave up on living.
"This is harassment."
"This is affection."
"It's distracting!"
"Good."
I glared at him.
He smirked.
My phone buzzed again, this time with Ethan calling.
I answered, breathless, "Hello?"
Ethan shouted, "WHY DO YOU SOUND LIKE YOU'RE RUNNING MARATHONS—"
Keifer chose that exact moment to kiss the base of my throat.
I choked—actually choked—on air.
Ethan said, "What was THAT?!"
"Nothing!" I squeaked.
Keifer bit back a laugh behind me.
I elbowed him.
He didn't even flinch.
He whispered against my skin:
"Eat. Then finish your meeting. Then come back here."
I swallowed hard.
"…why?"
He smirked, voice dropping:
"Because I'm not done with you."
I had to mute the phone before I screamed.
I finally managed to get his laptop open, settle into Keifer's absurdly comfortable dining chair (because he refused to let me sit anywhere else), and join the meeting.
Keifer kissed the top of my head like I was some domesticated kitten, then walked toward the kitchen.
Yes. Walked.
Like a normal human being.
With normal clothes on.
Not like a menace.
Miracles existed.
"Jay! Finally!" Ethan practically screamed the moment my camera turned on. "We've been waiting thirty minutes—"
Zack shoved his face into the frame. "Boss, tell him to calm down before he explodes—"
Behind them, the team waved like I'd come back from war.
I sighed. "Hi. Yes. I'm alive. Barely."
Ethan squinted. "Why do you look— flushed? Are you sick?"
Before I could invent a lie, Zack muttered, "She's sick in the LOVE way."
"I will fire you," I warned.
He grinned. "You can't. I know all your passwords."
I heard a low amused huff from the kitchen.
Keifer.
Of course he could hear everything.
I ignored him and shared my screen.
The meeting went fine for about thirty seconds…
Until the investors joined.
A group of old-ish men in suits popped on-screen, smiling fake corporate smiles.
One of them — tall, grey hair, mid-40s — leaned forward with an annoyingly charming grin.
"Ms. Mariano," he said smoothly, "glad you could join. Still as stunning as ever."
I blinked.
Ethan's head whipped toward the camera like oh god.
Zack texted in the private chat, "Abort mission."
The investor continued, voice dripping confidence:
"You look fatigued. Rough night?"
He smirked.
"Well… if you ever need company, my number hasn't changed."
I froze.
The entire meeting froze.
Even the Wi-Fi froze.
I didn't answer because my brain had gone into blue-screen mode.
But someone else answered.
Not from the laptop.
From the kitchen.
A low, sharp, "Excuse me?"
Every cell in my body turned into pure panic.
Keifer stepped out of the kitchen doorway.
Slowly.
Silently.
Dangerously.
His eyes were darker than last night.
And last night was… yeah.
He leaned an elbow on the doorway, voice cold enough to freeze fire.
"Repeat that," he said calmly.
Too calmly.
The investor blinked. "And you are…?"
"I'm the man," Keifer said, "who spent the 'rough night' with her."
Zack covered his mouth.
Ethan threw his papers in the air.
All the interns behind them either gasped or silently prayed.
The investor laughed, trying to play it off. "Oh? You must be a… colleague?"
"No," Keifer said flatly.
He walked behind me, rested a hand — possessively — on my shoulder, and bent down slightly.
His thumb stroked my collarbone.
My camera absolutely caught that.
Everyone saw that.
"I'm something else."
I smacked his hand.
He did not care.
The investor raised a brow, amused. "Well, Ms. Mariano certainly has interesting taste in companions."
Companions?
COMPANIONS?!
Keifer's jaw flexed.
Oh no.
Oh no no no.
He wasn't angry.
He was jealous.
And jealous Keifer was—
"I will be speaking to your CEO about professional conduct," Keifer said, voice like sharpened ice. "Because hitting on a woman during a business meeting isn't just unprofessional."
He leaned down, lips brushing my ear.
"It's pathetic."
I choked on every emotion I'd ever had.
Ethan immediately muted the whole call like his life depended on it.
He texted-screamed:
"JAY. CONTROL YOUR MAN."
Zack added:
"He's terrifyingly hot but also PLEASE TURN YOUR CAMERA OFF BEFORE YOU GET US ALL SUED."
I slapped my laptop closed so fast it echoed.
Silence.
Then—
"Keifer," I hissed, turning to him. "You cannot talk to investors like that!"
He stood there, chest rising and falling, still simmering.
"He flirted with you."
"It's normal! Investors flirt with EVERYONE!"
He narrowed his eyes.
"How many of them have your number?"
"None!"
"How many have ASKED for it?"
"ALL OF THEM— THAT IS NOT THE POINT—"
He stepped closer.
Too close.
Fingers tilting my chin up.
"You're mine," he said quietly. "They don't get to talk to you like that."
My breath caught.
Then—
"Also," he added, voice dropping, "never take meetings looking this pretty again."
"Keifer—"
"No," he said firmly, "I'm serious. You blush too easily. And your voice—"
He exhaled sharply.
"It's a problem."
"For who?!"
"For me."
He leaned in, lips brushing my cheek.
"Finish your meeting," he murmured, "so I can finish what I started."
I melted. Fully.
"I hate you," I whispered weakly.
"No you don't."
And he walked away, muscles tense, jaw sharp, absolutely ready to fight an entire investor board.
I reopened the laptop with the defeated energy of someone who'd just watched her life flash before her eyes.
Ethan and Zack were still panicking in the chat:
ZACK: Are we dead???
ETHAN: Investors will kill us. Jay, FIX. IT.
I ignored them and turned my camera back on.
Immediately, the same investor — Mr. Grey-Hair-Charm-Offensive — leaned forward.
Fake smirk back in place.
"Well, Ms. Mariano," he drawled, "before we continue… that man earlier. Who exactly is he?"
In the kitchen, I heard a chair scrape.
Oh no.
Oh no no no.
Keifer stepped into the frame.
Not visible on camera — just to me.
Arms crossed.
Eyes on me.
Jaw sharp enough to slice time itself.
I looked at him like: No. Don't you dare.
He raised a brow.
I sighed.
Fine.
I gave the tiniest nod.
And that was all he needed.
He moved into the camera frame.
Fully.
Dominant. Calm. Dangerous.
The investors physically recoiled.
Keifer placed a hand on the back of my chair, leaned slightly forward, and said in a deep, steady voice that hit my spine like electricity:
"I'm her husband."
Silence.
Pure, stunned silence.
Ethan slapped both hands over his face in the call window.
Zack mouthed:
WE ARE SO FIRED.
The investor blinked, startled. "H-Husband?"
Keifer nodded once.
Controlled. Confident.
A man who owned half the world and didn't need to prove it.
"Mark Keifer Watson," he said, voice smooth but carrying enough weight to bend steel.
"CEO of Watson Coorporation."
Every investor's face changed instantly.
Respect. Fear. Calculation.
Oh they knew the name.
They ALLknew the name.
Because Watson wasn't just powerful.It was global-powerful.Old-money-powerful.
Be-careful-or-we'll-buy-your-company powerful.
Grey-Hair cleared his throat. "I… wasn't aware Ms.Mariano was married."
Keifer smiled.
It was not a nice smile.
It was a touch her again and I'll bury your company in paperwork smile.
"She prefers privacy," he said.
Then added—cool, almost bored:
"I don't."
I kicked his foot under the table.
He didn't flinch.
The investor tried recovering, "R-Right. Well, Mr. Watson, our apologies if—"
"No apology needed," Keifer cut smoothly, "as long as we keep this meeting professional from now on."
Professional.
Coming from the man who kissed my neck during breakfast.
The irony nearly killed me.
But the investors all nodded rapidly, falling in line like obedient schoolboys.
Ethan regained his soul and continued the presentation like he had trained for this all his life.
Zack sat there in shock, texting:
"I'm telling your kids you did this."
The meeting ended faster than I had ever experienced in my career.
Everyone said goodbye with exaggerated politeness, terrified to offend the walking danger aura that was Keifer Watson.
The camera turned off.
I exhaled so hard I nearly passed out.
I turned.
Slowly.
He stood there.
Arms crossed.
Eyes fixed on me.
Expression unreadable.
"…Husband?" I hissed.
He shrugged.
"Convincing."
"You—you introduced yourself as Keifer Watson my HUSBAND?!"
"That's my name and my title Mrs. Watson😉"
"Keifer THAT'S— YOU— YOU JUST—"
He leaned down, lips brushing my ear.
Soft.
Slow.
Intoxicating.
"Next time," he murmured, "they'll think twice before flirting with you."
I shoved his shoulder.
He caught my wrist.
Pulled me in.
Whispered—
"Besides… wifey this title suits me😏😉."
And my heart absolutely forgot how to function...