JAY'S POV — UNINVITED ROYALTY
Peace never lasts.
I knew that the moment the elevator chimed.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't dramatic.
Just a single, precise sound—clean enough to slice straight through the calm like a blade through silk.
Yuri stiffened beside me.
Not visibly. Not enough for anyone who didn't know how to read people.
But I felt it.
The air changed.
Before I could ask, hurried footsteps echoed down the hall.
Then—
"Young Master!"
A woman rushed in, breathless, dressed in a crisp uniform that screamed money without ever saying it aloud. She stopped short when she saw me—eyes widening just a fraction too late.
"I'm so sorry," she said quickly, bowing her head. "I didn't realize you had company."
Yuri was already standing.
"What is it?" he asked.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
The maid swallowed. "Your grandfather… he's here. He insisted on seeing you immediately."
A pause.
"And," she added carefully, "he asked about… the girl you brought over."
Silence dropped like a guillotine.
I straightened instinctively.
Girl.
Not guest.
Not friend.
Girl.
Yuri's jaw tightened.
"He shouldn't be here," he said quietly.
"I know, sir," she replied. "But he arrived with security. He's already in the dining room."
Of course he was.
I exhaled slowly.
"Yuri," I said, keeping my voice neutral. "If this is a problem—"
"It's not," he interrupted too fast.
Then, softer—"It's just… unexpected."
He looked at me.
Really looked.
Like he was seeing the hoodie, the unfamiliar space, the situation snapping shut around us.
"I can leave," I offered.
"No," he said immediately.
The word came out sharper than he probably meant.
Then he caught himself.
"He'll make it worse if you do," Yuri added. "And… it's raining. You're staying."
Something flickered behind his eyes.
Not fear.
Concern.
For me.
That was new.
"All right," I said simply.
If his grandfather was coming in like a king—
Then fine.
I'd meet him standing.
---
YURI'S POV —
My grandfather did not visit.
He arrived.
There was a difference.
By the time we reached the dining room, he was already seated at the head of the long table, posture immaculate, cane resting against the chair beside him like a ceremonial weapon. His suit was dark, perfectly tailored, and his presence bent the room subtly toward him.
Power didn't need to announce itself.
It just waited for acknowledgment.
His gaze lifted the moment we entered.
Sharp. Assessing.
And then—
It stopped on her.
Jay.
Wearing my clothes.
Standing beside me without shrinking.
I felt it before I understood it—
A spike of panic.
Not because of him.
Because of her.
She didn't belong in this world.
And yet—
She looked like she might survive it.
"Grandfather," I said, bowing slightly.
He inclined his head just enough to accept it.
Then his eyes moved back to her.
"So," he said in Japanese, voice smooth as polished stone.
"Who is she?"
The question wasn't casual.
It was a test.
I opened my mouth—
And stopped.
Because I realized something terrifying.
I didn't know how to define her.
She wasn't a friend.
She wasn't nothing.
She wasn't someone I could dismiss.
And she wasn't someone I wanted to lie about.
Before I could answer—
She spoke.
---
JAY'S POV -
"I'm Jasper Jean Mariano,you can call me Jay" I said calmly.
Not loud.
Not apologetic.
Just… present.
I inclined my head slightly. Not a bow. Not a challenge.
A recognition of status—without submission.
"I had car trouble. Your grandson helped me."
The old man's gaze sharpened.
"You speak Japanese," he noted.
"Yes."
"Fluently?"
"Enough," I replied. "I prefer listening."
Something like amusement flickered across his face.
"Interesting."
He gestured to the chair beside Yuri. "Sit."
Not an invitation.
A command.
I sat.
Yuri sat beside me, tension coiled tight beneath his stillness.
The old man folded his hands.
"You are wearing my grandson's clothes," he observed.
"Yes."
"And yet," he continued, eyes piercing, "you do not look like someone trying to claim him."
"I'm not," I said evenly.
Yuri inhaled sharply.
I didn't look at him.
The grandfather studied me longer now.
"You're not intimidated," he said.
"No," I replied. "But I'm not careless either."
That—
That earned me something.
Not approval.
But curiosity sharpened into respect.
"My grandson is careful," the old man said. "To a fault."
I stayed silent.
"He does not bring people here," he continued. "Ever."
I met his gaze.
"Then I suppose today is inconvenient for everyone," I said. "Including me."
A pause.
Then—
A low chuckle.
"You have a spine," he said. "Good."
Yuri's head turned slightly toward me.
I could feel his eyes.
The grandfather noticed.
Of course he did.
He leaned back.
"And you," he said to Yuri, "are quieter than usual."
Yuri said nothing.
The old man's gaze flicked between us.
"You didn't tell her who you are," he observed.
"She didn't ask," Yuri replied.
Another pause.
"That," his grandfather said thoughtfully, "may be why she's still sitting here."
His eyes returned to me.
"You're not impressed by power," he said.
"No," I answered. "I'm impressed by restraint."
The air shifted.
The old man's lips curved faintly.
"Dangerous answer," he murmured. "But honest."
He turned slightly in his chair.
"And you," he said to Yuri, voice cool, "have been watching her since she sat down."
Yuri stiffened.
I didn't move.
Didn't react.
Didn't give either of them the satisfaction.
"You don't look at people like that," his grandfather continued. "Not unless they matter."
Yuri finally spoke.
"She was soaked," he said quietly. "I gave her clothes."
"That is not what I asked."
Silence stretched.
The old man looked at me again.
"You don't cling," he said. "You don't perform."
"I don't need to," I replied.
Another nod.
Slow.
Decisive.
"You may stay for dinner," he said.
Then, to Yuri—
"Be careful."
Not a warning.
An acknowledgment.
Yuri's shoulders loosened slightly.
Mine didn't.
But something inside me settled.
The king had seen me.
And for reasons I didn't fully understand—
He approved.
Not because of who I was to Yuri.
But because I wasn't trying to be.
And that—
That might have been the most dangerous thing of all.
---
Dinner was… quieter than I expected.
No interrogation.
No traps.
Just measured conversation, precise questions about school, subjects I liked, what I planned to do after graduation.
The kind of questions that sounded harmless until you realized every answer revealed discipline, priorities, restraint.
I answered honestly.
Not because I felt cornered.
Because I didn't feel the need to defend myself.
The grandfather listened more than he spoke. When he did speak, it was deliberate—short observations that carried weight without demanding response.
Yuri barely touched his food.
I noticed.
I didn't comment.
When dinner ended, I stood first.
"Thank you for the meal," I said, inclining my head again. "And for the shelter."
The old man studied me for a long moment.
"You move carefully," he said. "That will serve you well."
I met his gaze. "So does knowing when to leave."
A faint smile—barely there.
"Indeed."
Yuri walked me to the door.
"I'll have the car take you—"
"I'll manage," I said gently. "You've done enough."
He hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Text me when you get home."
"I will."
For a second—just a second—his eyes softened again.
Not enough for anyone else.
Enough for me.
The door closed behind me with a quiet finality.
I didn't look back.
---
HANAMITICHI GRAND FATHER'S POV —
The penthouse settled into silence.
Yuri remained standing where she had left.
"You're distracted," I said.
"I'm thinking," he replied.
"Dangerous habit," I countered. "For someone in your position."
He said nothing.
I waited until he excused himself before signaling my aide.
"Find her," I said calmly.
"Everything?"
"No," I replied. "Only what is clean."
The report came faster than expected.
Jasper Jean Mariano.
Seventeen. Parents dead.
Heir to the Mariano Industries.
Excellent academic standing.
No scandals. No digital footprint worth noting.
Currently staying with the Fernandez family.
My brow lifted slightly.
Fernandez.
I read further.
Cousin to Angelo Fernandez.
That—
That was interesting.
Angelo did not associate with insignificant people.
Nor did he protect them without reason.
I reached for the phone.
Dialed a number I hadn't used in years.
It rang once.
Then—
"Mr. Hanamitichi," Angelo's voice answered, calm but alert. "This is unexpected."
"So is coincidence," I replied evenly.
A pause.
Then—
"I believe we share an acquaintance."
Silence sharpened.
"I'd like to talk," I continued, voice smooth as steel,
"about your cousin… Jay."
The line stayed open.
And somewhere between curiosity and calculation—
A new game quietly began...