JAY'S POV — WHEN THE SMILE STAYS BUT THE FEAR DOESN'T
Evening came too fast.
The sun dipped low, painting my room in warm gold, and still—that feeling hadn't left. If anything, it sat heavier now. Like the air before a storm, thick and unmoving.
Tita Gema knocked softly before entering, already dressed, already composed.
"Time to get ready," she said gently.
I smiled back.
Because that's what I always did.
She helped me into the dress first.
It fit like it had been tailored for me—hugging just enough, falling just right. The white made my skin glow softly under the lights, innocent and elegant all at once. Tita adjusted the off-shoulder sleeves with careful fingers, nodding in approval.
"You look beautiful," she said.
"Thank you," I replied, and I meant it.
She chose the heels next—nothing too high, nothing too loud. Practical. Considerate. Almost… planned.
Makeup came after.
Light foundation. Soft blush. Neutral tones on my eyes. Lip gloss instead of lipstick.
"You don't need much," Tita murmured, brushing my hair back. "You've always had a gentle face."
My smile didn't falter—but my hands tightened in my lap.
While she worked, my phone lay beside me on the vanity.
Screen dark.
I checked it once.
Nothing.
Twice.
Still nothing.
Damian hadn't texted back.
He always did.
I swallowed and forced myself to breathe as Tita curled my hair loosely, letting it fall in soft waves down my back. She pinned one side delicately, leaving the other free. Finished with a light spray of perfume—subtle, floral.
"Perfect," she said, stepping back.
I stood, smoothing the fabric of the dress.
In the mirror, I looked calm.
Composed.
Ready.
Inside, my heart was knocking far too loudly.
I picked up my phone one last time.
No new messages.
"Jay," Angelo called from downstairs. "We're leaving."
"I'm coming," I replied, voice steady.
Too steady.
---
The car ride was quiet.
Lola hummed softly to herself in the backseat, fingers moving over her rosary. Tita Gema sat beside me, purse in her lap, posture flawless. Angelo drove, eyes forward, jaw set.
No music.
No small talk.
I stared out the window, watching streetlights blur past, my reflection ghosting over the glass. Every few minutes, my phone buzzed with a notification that wasn't the one I was waiting for.
Promotions. Group chats. Nothing important.
Nothing him.
Something was wrong.
I felt it settle into my bones.
---
The car slowed.
Then stopped.
I looked up.
And my breath caught.
The venue rose before us—grand, familiar, unmistakable.
A hotel.
That hotel.
My stomach dropped.
"That's…" I began, then stopped.
Angelo parked and turned off the engine.
"Yes," he said calmly. "The Hanamitchi Hotel."
The name echoed in my head like a warning bell.
Owned by the Hanamitchi family.
Owned by Yuri's family.
My chest tightened sharply.
I looked at Tita Gema, searching her face for something—anything.
She met my eyes.
And for the first time that evening, she looked… uneasy.
"Jay," she said softly, reaching for my hand. "Let's go inside."
The valet opened the door.
Warm lights spilled out onto the pavement. Laughter drifted through the air. Music—elegant, celebratory—floated from somewhere inside.
A party.
A planned one.
My heart began to race.
Why here?
Why tonight?
Why me?
I stepped out of the car, heels clicking against the stone, the white of my dress suddenly feeling far too bright.
As the doors to the hotel slid open, a single thought screamed through my mind—
Keifer.
And for the first time all day, fear wasn't quiet anymore.
It was loud.
The hotel lobby glowed.
That was the first thing that struck me.
Crystal chandeliers, white and gold décor, music low but elegant—everything polished to the point of intimidation. Conversations blended into a smooth hum, laughter bouncing off marble floors. It was beautiful.
Too beautiful.
My heels clicked softly as I walked in beside Kuya Angelo and Tita Gema, Lola gripping my arm gently like she always did in crowded places. Aries walked ahead, already scanning the room like he expected trouble.
And then—
I saw him.
Yuri stood near the center of the hall.
Not in his usual dark colors. Not in something understated.
He was wearing a white suit.
Crisp. Tailored. Impossibly clean. His hair was styled carefully, not his usual slightly messy look. Even from across the room, I could tell he'd put thought into every detail.
For a second, I just stared.
White didn't suit Yuri.
It was too… ceremonial.
Too intentional.
He spotted me almost immediately.
His face lit up when he smiled, genuine and warm, and whatever strange tightness had settled in my chest loosened just a little.
"Jay!" he called, weaving through guests toward me.
I smiled back automatically.
"Happy New Year," I said as he reached me.
He laughed softly and pulled me into a hug. "Happy New Year. And—early birthday wishes to me, I guess."
I chuckled. "Advance happy birthday, then."
He smelled familiar—clean, comforting, safe. When he pulled back, his hands lingered at my shoulders for half a second longer than usual, like he wanted to say something.
I didn't notice it then.
Or maybe I did, and chose not to.
"You look beautiful," he said.
"Thank you," I replied. "You look very… formal."
He glanced down at his suit, lips quirking. "Yeah. Special night."
That word again.
Special.
He gestured behind him. "Come. I want you to meet everyone properly."
Before I could protest, he gently guided me forward.
"This is my mom," Yuri said first.
She was elegant in a quiet way—soft eyes, sharp posture, a smile that felt practiced but kind. She took my hands immediately.
"So you're Jay," she said warmly. "We've heard so much about you."
I smiled politely. "All good things, I hope."
She laughed. "From Yuri? Always."
His dad stood beside her, tall and composed, offering a firm handshake and a nod that felt more like an assessment than a greeting. His little sister bounced into view next, grinning openly.
"You're the girl he never shuts up about!" she blurted.
Yuri groaned. "Aya—"
I laughed despite myself. "Nice to meet you."
And then—
His grandfather.
I stiffened instinctively.
I had met him once before. Briefly. He had sharp eyes and a presence that demanded attention without asking for it.
"Jay," he said, recognizing me instantly. "Good to see you again."
"Likewise, sir," I replied, respectful.
He studied me for a moment longer than necessary, then nodded. "You clean up well."
Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist.
Yuri cleared his throat. "We should… mingle."
"Yes," his grandfather agreed. "We'll talk later."
Later.
Why did everyone keep saying that?
As Yuri walked me away, my phone buzzed in my clutch.
My heart jumped.
Damian.
But when I checked—
Nothing.
Just a notification from a group chat arguing about fireworks.
I slipped the phone back, forcing a smile as Yuri guided me through the crowd. People greeted him constantly—business partners, family friends, investors. Every interaction felt rehearsed.
Planned.
At one point, I leaned toward him. "This is… big."
He nodded. "It is."
"You okay?" I asked.
He hesitated.
Then smiled again. "Yeah. Just nervous."
I tilted my head. "About what?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he led me toward the stage being set at the far end of the hall. A microphone. A podium. A massive digital clock counting down to midnight.
My chest tightened.
"Yuri," I said slowly, stopping him. "What's going on?"
He turned to face me fully now.
The noise around us felt distant.
"Jay," he said softly, "do you trust me?"
The question landed wrong.
Trust wasn't something you asked for before a party.
It was something you asked for before a fall.
"I—yes," I said carefully. "But—"
"Good," he replied, cutting me off gently. "That's all I need right now."
My phone buzzed again.
This time, I didn't wait.
Damian: Jay, are you okay? Where are you right now?
Relief flooded me—followed immediately by dread.
At a Hanamitchi hotel, I typed back quickly. Why?
The three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
My heart started racing.
Before he could reply, the lights dimmed.
A soft gasp rippled through the crowd.
Yuri took a step back from me, straightening his white suit, shoulders squaring like a man preparing for impact.
The host's voice echoed through the hall.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us tonight to celebrate New Year's Eve—and a very special birthday."
Applause filled the room.
Yuri looked at me.
Really looked at me.
And for the first time since I'd known him, there was something in his eyes that wasn't calm or kind.
It was determination.
Possession.
Fear.
My phone buzzed again.
Damian: Jay… did you know that fer corp is on the verge of bankruptcy?