JAY — PRESENT DAY
The hall breathed money.
Old money. New ambition. Generational arrogance wrapped in couture and tailored suits.
Crystal chandeliers scattered warm light across marble floors. Soft strings played somewhere unseen, elegant enough to fade into the background while deals were measured in glances and handshakes.
Cole and I moved forward together, unhurried.
That's when I saw them.
David Braselton stood near the bar, a glass in hand, shoulders broader than I remembered, posture calmer—seasoned,he stood beside him, laughing at something low-voiced. Both older. Sharper. Less reckless.
Cin was there too.
Doctor Peralta.
White coat replaced by a navy suit, glasses perched on his nose like he belonged on a magazine cover titled Healing Empires. He spoke easily with two board members, confidence effortless.
I didn't stop walking.
I didn't react.
But my eyes kept cataloguing.
Yuri stood farther in—talking to his grandfather.
Still towering. Still disciplined. Still looking like duty had swallowed whatever softness once existed. I grimaced internally.
Ugh.
Some things never improved.
"They haven't seen you yet," Cole murmured quietly.
"I know," I replied.
And I didn't intend to change that.
Our designated table waited ahead.
Sophia Markov stood first when she saw me, silver hair immaculate, smile sharp and warm all at once. Joseph Hatlings followed, already extending a hand.
"Jay," Sophia said, eyes glinting. "You look… disruptive."
"Thank you," I replied sincerely, shaking her hand. "That's the goal."
Joseph laughed. "Six years and you still know how to make a room uncomfortable."
"Only for the right people."
We took our seats. Cole settled beside me, relaxed but alert.
Conversation flowed—market shifts, quiet expansions, London gossip dressed as politeness. I participated just enough. Observed more.
Then the lights dimmed.
The hum softened.
The hall settled into its rhythm.
then I felt it...
That old, instinctive pull.
I found them without meaning to.
Aries stood near the left side of the hall, posture rigid, expression carefully neutral. He looked broader than he used to—less boy, more burden. His eyes tracked the stage like he was bracing for impact, not celebration.
Angelo Fernandez sat two tables ahead.
Older. Sharper. The arrogance sanded down into something quieter—regret, maybe. He laughed politely at something someone said, but his eyes kept moving. Scanning. As if some part of him already knew.
And then—
Watson.
Keifer.
He was seated farther back, shadowed slightly by the lighting, suit immaculate, shoulders tense beneath it. He hadn't relaxed since the ceremony began. One hand rested around a glass he hadn't touched.
He looked… haunted.
I felt nothing spike.
No panic. No ache.
Just awareness.
Good.
The ceremony continued.
Awards moved steadily, each name met with applause and polite admiration.
"Excellence in Medical Leadership—Peralta Group of Hospitals."
Cin stood.
The applause was genuine—earned. He accepted with a brief bow, humility intact, doctor before executive. As he turned back to his seat, his eyes lifted—
And met mine.
His breath caught.
Just for a fraction of a second.
Recognition flared—raw, stunned.
I inclined my head slightly.
A courtesy.
Nothing more.
He sat slowly, spine straighter than before.
"Strategic Innovation in Global Finance—Braselton Industries."
David rose next.
Confident. Grounded. When he turned toward the audience, his gaze swept—
And landed on me.
His expression shifted—not surprise, exactly. More like pieces snapping into place. A quiet oh crossed his face.
David didn't respond.
He sat down slowly, eyes never leaving me.
"Corporate Excellence Award—Watson Corporation."
The air changed.
Keifer stood.
Applause thundered, respectful, heavy with legacy. He moved like a man on autopilot, accepted the award with practiced precision.
But as he turned—
He saw me.
Really saw me.
The color drained from his face.
Not white.
Ash.
His grip tightened on the award just enough to notice.
I didn't look away.
I didn't smile.
I didn't give him anything.
He returned to his seat like gravity had doubled.
Aries stared straight ahead, jaw clenched, knuckles white where his hands rested on the table.
The ceremony pressed on, unaware—or pretending to be.
Then—
"This evening's final recognition," the host announced, voice shifting, reverent now.
"The award that honors leadership not built on inheritance—but on resilience."
A pause.
"And to present this honor Let's welcome—Mr. Percy Rey Mariano. Mariano Industries.."
My heart skipped.
"What—" I breathed.
Cole turned, brows lifting. "You didn't know?"
"No," I said softly. "He lied.he said he was busy.."
Percy stepped onto the stage, composed, familiar, devastatingly calm.
The room stilled.
"Good evening," he began. "Tonight isn't about who was expected to succeed."
My fingers curled gently around my clutch.
"It's about who chose to survive."
My breath slowed.
"This recipient returned to a world that once tried to decide her future for her—and instead, she built something no one could take away."
Around the room—
I felt it.
The shift.
Angelo's head snapped up.
Aries stiffened.
Keifer went completely still.
My chest tightened.
"The Businesswoman of the Year award goes to—"
Silence fell like a held breath.
"Ms. Jasper Jean Mariano.
Founder and CEO of MJ Industries."
For a heartbeat—
No one moved.
Then the room exploded.
Applause. Gasps. Whispers rippling like shockwaves.
I rose.
Slowly.
Grace first. Always.
Cole stood with me, pride unmistakable in his eyes. He hugged me tightly...
I stepped forward into the light.
As I passed—
I felt their eyes.
Aries—stunned. Angelo—wrecked. Cin—soft, reverent and shocked mouth open.David shock written all over his face. Keifer—
Broken.
I didn't look away.
I climbed the steps.
Percy's eyes met mine—warm, fierce, proud.
And as I stood center-stage, applause washing over me, one truth settled deep and unshakable:
I hadn't come back to haunt them.
I had come back to outgrow them.
And the past—
Would have to learn how to sit quietly in my presence...
Percy pulled me into his arms the second I stepped off the stage.
Tight. Protective. Familiar.
"I'm proud of you," he murmured into my hair, voice steady but eyes shining. "Not because of this." He tapped the award lightly. "Because you survived."
I closed my eyes for half a second.
"Thank you for lying to me,I loved it... " I said softly.
He chuckled. "Worth it."
I accepted the award properly then—cool metal, unexpected weight. It felt real. Earned.
I turned to step away.
"Ms. Mariano," the host called gently. "Would you like to say a few words?"
A ripple moved through the hall.
I inhaled.
Stepped back to the podium.
The lights were warm. The silence attentive.
I didn't look at them.
"I wasn't prepared for this," I said honestly, voice calm, clear. "Mostly because I don't do things for recognition. I do them because something in me refuses to disappear."
A few quiet laughs.
"This award—receiving it from my brother—means more than you know. Percy Rey Mariano taught me that legacy isn't inherited." I glanced at him briefly. "It's built. Every day. Quietly. With stubborn faith."
Applause rippled.
"I owe everything to my family—my parents, who taught me resilience before ambition. And to my best friends—"
I turned.
Cole was already grinning like an idiot, hand raised in an unapologetic wave.
"—Cole and Celeste," I continued, smiling despite myself. "Who stood beside me when success was just an idea and failure was a very real possibility."
"That's my Jay Jay!" he shouted suddenly.
The hall burst into laughter.
I shook my head, amused. "Unprofessional," I muttered, earning another round of laughs.
"I accept this award with gratitude," I finished, voice steady again. "And with the promise that I'll continue building spaces where survival isn't the exception—but the expectation."
Applause rose—full, warm, genuine.
I stepped back.
The ceremony closed shortly after.
Dinner unfolded like a controlled storm.
Laughter. Music. Soft clinking cutlery.
Percy, Cole, and I stood near the terrace doors, a small island of familiarity in a sea of politics.
That's when I felt them approach.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Keifer.
Cin.
David.
Yuri.
Angelo.
Aries.
All together.
Six ghosts wrapped in tailored suits.
Before any of them could speak—
Percy stepped forward.
Firm. Calm. Unyielding.
"She's not available," he said simply.
Cole folded his arms beside him, expression lazy but eyes sharp. "Tonight's not a reunion."
Angelo opened his mouth.
Percy's gaze hardened. "Not tonight. Not here."
They didn't listen.
Of course they didn't.
Cin broke first.
He stepped forward, hands trembling, eyes already glassy. "Jay—" His voice cracked. "Please. Just… two minutes."
Percy glanced at me, question unspoken.
I lifted my chin. "Two," I said coolly. "That's it."
Cole didn't move away. He stayed close—silent permission, quiet armor.
Cin inhaled shakily. "I looked for you," he said, words tumbling out now. "All of us did. I—I should've done more. I should've protected you. I became a doctor to save people and I couldn't even save—"
Tears slipped down his face.
I watched him like I would a stranger.
"I don't need your guilt," I said softly. "And I don't need your tears. Whatever you became… you didn't become it for me."
Cin flinched.
David swallowed hard. "Jay, we were kids. We didn't understand the damage—"
"You understood enough to stay silent," I cut in. Calm. Surgical. "And silence is a choice."
Yuri opened his mouth.
I raised a hand. He stopped instantly.
Angelo shifted, regret etched deep into his face. "If I could undo it—"
"You can't," I replied. "And I didn't come here to give you absolution."
Aries hadn't spoken yet.
He looked wrecked—jaw clenched, eyes rimmed red. "I should've fought harder," he said hoarsely. "You were my sister."
I met his gaze at last. "Exactly I was your sister"
That silence landed heavy.
Then—
Keifer stepped forward.
Too close.
Everything in the air sharpened.
"Jay," he said quietly. "I never stopped loving you."
Disgust crawled up my spine.
"Don't," I warned, voice flat.
"I spent six years looking for you," he continued, desperate now. "Every city. Every contact. I tore my life apart for you—"
"Keep your hands off me," I snapped as he reached out.
He froze.
"I don't owe you a confession," I said. "And I don't owe you forgiveness."
His voice dropped to a whisper. "Just tell me one thing. Tell me you don't love me. If you say it—I'll leave."
The words lodged in my throat.
Because my heart—traitorous, ancient—remembered the boy I had loved.
Even when every nerve in my body screamed for me to say it—
to shout it into his face, how deeply I hated him, how the love was gone—
there was that one brutal corner of my heart that spoke louder.
It didn't scream.
It froze me.
I said nothing.
That was answer enough.
Before he could speak again—
I turned.
Grabbed Cole by the collar.
I whispered. "I'm sorry."
Then I kissed him.
Not gentle.
Not hesitant.
Real.
Cole startled for half a second—then understood.
His hands came up, firm, certain, kissing me back like he'd been waiting for permission all along.
The room disappeared.
When we pulled apart, my breath steady, pulse calm, I didn't turn around.
I spoke over my shoulder.
"Do you wish to see me kiss more Mr
Watson—or is this enough?"
Silence.
Then footsteps.
Retreating.
One by one.
When I finally looked back—
They were gone.
Cole leaned in, forehead resting against mine. "You okay?"
I nodded.
"Yes," I said truthfully. "I am."
Because for the first time—
The past had tried to touch me.
And failed...