The Manor at midnight was a graveyard of echoes. Keifer had been pulled away by a "security breach" at the main gate—a distraction, Jay-jay realized too late, as she stood alone in the towering, two-story library.
The scent of old leather and cigar smoke announced him before he even stepped out of the shadows. The Grandfather moved with a cane that sounded like a ticking clock against the marble floor. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"You've played your hand well, little girl," he said, his voice a dry rasp. "The journal, the suit... my daughter-in-law would have been proud. But she died because she didn't know when to fold. Do you?"
Jay-jay stood her ground, her hand resting on a mahogany ladder. "I'm not a gambler, Lolo. I'm a Mariano. We don't fold. We fight until the table is broken."
The Grandfather stopped three feet away. He didn't look angry; he looked bored. He pulled a tablet from his pocket and slid it across a reading table.
"Look at the screen, Jay-jay."
Jay-jay's breath hitched. It was a live feed of a modest, brightly colored house in a quiet neighborhood in Cavite. It was her childhood home in the Philippines. Her parents were sitting on the porch, her father laughing as he fanned himself, her mother folding laundry. There was a black sedan parked at the end of the block. A man in a suit sat inside, cleaning a long-range rifle.
"One word from me, and the Mariano line ends tonight," the Grandfather said calmly. "And Keifer? I've already leaked his 'extralegal' activities from the pier to the International Bureau. If I press 'Send,' he spends the next forty years in a black-site prison. The 'King' becomes a ghost."
Jay-jay felt the room spin. The Kevlar suit suddenly felt like a lead weight. "What do you want?"
"Leave," the Grandfather commanded. "Sign these annulment papers. Disappear. If you stay, everyone you love burns because of your 'ambition.' If you go, your parents in the Philippines get a lifetime of protection and Keifer's record is wiped clean. He'll hate you, yes. He'll think you betrayed him for money. But he will be free."
Jay-jay looked at the screen—at her father's kind face, at her mother's smile. Then she thought of Keifer, the boy who had washed her hair in the ocean, the man who had promised to find her in every life.
If I stay, I kill them. If I leave, I save him.
"I need to see the papers," Jay-jay whispered, her voice cracking.
The Grandfather placed a silver pen on the table. "A wise choice. The 'Mutya' is finally learning that in this family, love is the greatest liability."
Jay-jay's hand trembled as she picked up the pen. Her mind raced back to Section E—to the lessons of loyalty. But this wasn't a schoolyard fight. This was a war where the stakes were her parents' lives and Keifer's soul.
Forgive me, Keifer. I'm doing this so you can keep breathing.
She signed. Each stroke of the pen felt like a knife carving out her heart.
"I want them safe," Jay-jay hissed, her eyes burning with a lethal fire. "If a single hair on their heads is touched, I don't care if I'm in hiding—I will come back and burn this Manor to the ground with you inside it."
"I expect nothing less," the Grandfather smirked, taking the papers. "A car is waiting at the servant's entrance. No notes. No goodbyes. If he suspects I forced you, the deal is off."
Jay-jay walked out of the library, her footsteps silent. She passed the Great Hall, passed the portraits of Watsons who had sacrificed everything for power. She reached the back gate, the cool night air hitting her face.
She didn't look back. She couldn't. If she saw Keifer one more time, she wouldn't be able to leave.
As the black car drove her away from the only man she had ever truly loved, Jay-jay gripped the silver key in her pocket so hard it cut into her palm.
Wait for me, Keifer," she whispered into the dark. "I'm leaving to save you... but I'm coming back to finish this."