Aces POV
The next day
While Jay-jay and the rest of the crew were busy trying to smuggle a three-tier cake through a ventilation shaft, the air in the Student Council office was thick with a completely different kind of tension
I stood by the window, the blueprints for the "Red Trial" forgotten on my desk. Zein was leaning against the heavy oak door, her arms crossed. She had been "guarding" me for the last hour, but we both knew she was just there to keep me from wandering down to the Basement and catching Jay-jay red-handed.
"You're staring, Supremo," Zein said, her voice a low, teasing hum. "Is there a security breach on my face, or are you just admiring the view?"
I turned slowly, letting my gaze travel from her combat boots up to her defiant, sparking eyes. "I'm calculating the risk," I murmured, taking a deliberate step toward her.
Zein didn't flinch, but I saw her pulse jump at the base of her throat. "The risk of what?"
"The risk of letting a beautiful distraction keep me from doing my job." I stopped just inches away, close enough to see the gold flecks in her irises.
I leaned down, my voice dropping to a dangerous, velvety whisper. "You're a terrible accomplice, Shion. You're supposed to be my Protector, yet here you are, leading the King straight into a trap."
Zein felt her cheeks flare a brilliant pink. She tried to maintain her 'tough girl' facade, but she couldn't stop the corner of her mouth from twitching. "It's not a trap. It's... a tactical redirection."
"Is that what we're calling it?" I reached out, my gloved thumb grazing the line of her jaw. The touch was light, but the electricity between us was enough to blow the school's fuses. "Because from where I'm standing, you look like you're trying to make me forget everything except the way you're breathing right now."
"Ace!" Zein gasped, her eyes widening as she instinctively rolled them to hide her flustered state. "You're... you're being impossible. Go back to your paperwork."
"The paperwork is boring," I countered, trapping her against the door by placing a hand on either side of her head. I smirked, a rare, predatory expression that made her knees go weak. "And you, Zein Shion, are the only thing in this university that actually keeps me awake."
"Stop it," she muttered, though she didn't move away. "You're a 'Thunderpuff', remember? Jay said so."
My smirk deepened. "Is that so? Well, maybe this 'Thunderpuff' wants to see if his Protector is as brave as she claims to be." I leaned in closer, my lips almost brushing her ear. "Tell me, Zein... Are you as strong as you claim ?""
Zein's brain officially short-circuited. She shoved my chest—not hard enough to actually move me, but enough to create space—and looked away, her face practically glowing red. "I'd... I'd report you for being a giant flirt! My God, Ace, since when did you become so smooth?"
"Since I realized that blushing suits you much better than a scowl," I whispered, enjoying the sight of the fiercest girl in Hell University reduced to a stuttering mess.
The moment was disturbed by knock on door it was Mia ." Zein, your and Ace dress.Come in 20min.",Mia said and left the room.
"Get ready for party , Ace",Zein said to me handing me dress.
Keifer's POV
I adjusted tab , my eyes never leaving the thermal scanners on my tablet. The perimeter was secure.
Dave, Edrix, and Rory had the cameras on a perfect loop—Madam Violet would see nothing but empty hallways and static while we turned the Basement into a functional anomaly.
Percy and Girls was currently wrestling with a bag of confetti that had "accidentally" exploded on him, while Ci-N was guarding the door with a look of terrifyingly high-energy focus.
My part of the plan—the statistical assurance of our survival—was done. Which meant I could finally focus on the most unpredictable variable in this entire school:
Jay-jay.
I found her in the faculty kitchen, which she had managed to turn into a battlefield. Flour was everywhere. There was a suspicious blue smudge on the industrial oven, and Jay was standing there, her hair pulled back into a messy bun, ferociously whisking a bowl of frosting like she was trying to beat a confession out of it.
"You're three minutes late , Jay," I said, leaning against the doorframe, my arms crossed.
She jumped, nearly sending the bowl flying. "Keifer! Don't sneak up on a girl with a whisk! I'm already stressed. The cake is lopsided, the oven smells like burnt rubber, and I think I accidentally used salt instead of sugar for the first batch."
I walked over, closing the distance between us. I didn't care about the flour or the chaos. I just liked the way her nose crinkled when she was frustrated. "Move," I murmured, gently taking the whisk from her hand.
"I can do it!" she huffed, trying to grab it back.
"I know you can . But if you continue like this,you'll have carpal tunnel before the party starts." I pulled her closer, my hand resting on the small of her back. "Let me."
"Fine, Mr. Perfect," she grumbled, but she didn't pull away. She leaned against the counter, watching me stir. "Why are you here anyway? Aren't you supposed to be making sure we don't get executed?"
"The guards are on a twenty-minute rotation, and the Black Bloods are busy arguing over who gets the last bunk in the north wing," I said, my voice dropping.
I stopped whisking and looked at her. Her face was smudged with blue frosting—right on her cheek.
"You have something right here," I said.
"Where?" She started rubbing her forehead.
"No, here." I reached out, my thumb catching the frosting. But instead of wiping it off with a towel, I leaned in, my gaze dropping to her lips.
"Keifer..." she breathed, her eyes widening. "We have a cake to bake. And a King to surprise."
"The King can wait," I muttered. I leaned in, my lips brushing hers—just a ghost of a touch at first. It tasted like vanilla and rebellion.
Jay-jay's hands found the front of my shirt, bunching the fabric. She pulled me closer, her initial shock melting into that fiery stubbornness I loved. The kiss deepened, becoming something heated and desperate, a brief escape from the sirens amd bloody night.
I pulled back just an inch, my forehead resting against hers. "If you put salt in the cake, I'm still going to make everyone eat it," I whispered.
"You're so annoying," she laughed, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling. She reached up and wiped a streak of flour across my cheek. "Now you match the decor, Mr.Watson."
"Get back to work, Mrs.Watson," I said, a rare, genuine smirk tugging at my lips as I swiped a bit of frosting and dabbed it on her nose. "Or I'll have to find another way to distract the head chef."
"Try me!" she challenged, picking up a handful of flour with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
After a few flour fight we finally baked a new cake.It look quiet eatable.We went to change the dress and hide before Ace arrival