JAY'S POV
For a second—just one—I stay exactly like that.
Frozen.
His hand still wrapped around my waist, firm, steady, like letting go isn't even a thought in his mind yet. My breath catches somewhere between my lungs and my throat, refusing to move, refusing to cooperate, while my heart—
God.
My heart is embarrassing.Because it's not just beating.It's reacting.To him.
Again.
I hate it.
The realization hits sharp and fast, snapping me back into myself like a cold slap. I step away abruptly, heels finding balance, spine straightening as if I was never about to fall in the first place.
"I'm fine," I say quickly, brushing an invisible crease off my blazer, tone clipped, controlled. "You can let go now."
He already has.Of course he has.But he doesn't step back.Doesn't move.
Just stands there—watching me—with that same infuriating expression like he's enjoying this way too much.
"You really need to work on your coordination," he says casually, tilting his head slightly. "Twice in less than twenty-four hours? That's a record, even for you."
I let out a short, humorless laugh, crossing my arms. "And you need to work on minding your own business. But here we are."
His smirk deepens.
God, I want to wipe it off his face.
"Hard to mind my business," he replies smoothly, eyes dragging over me in a way that feels entirely too deliberate, "when you keep crashing into it."
I narrow my eyes instantly. "Keep dreaming. If I ever run into you again, it'll be on purpose—and it won't be this gentle."
"Is that a threat, Jaybird?"
"Take it however you want, dickhead."
The words come easy.Too easy.Like no time has passed at all.
—
Behind him, I notice movement.
The lady at the receptionist.Except—she's not the same anymore.
Her posture is stiff now, almost nervous, eyes lowered slightly as she addresses him.
"Good morning, sir."
Sir.
I blink.
Once.
Twice.
Wait—what?
Someone is actually giving this asshole respect....What did he do to the poor girl that she had to bow down to him?? I think maybe she doesn't actually know his habits....
I looked back at him and good lord he didn't even look at her immediately. His gaze lingers on me for half a second longer before he finally turns, expression shifting so fast it's almost unsettling.
Gone is the teasing.Gone is the smirk.What's left is something colder.Sharper and Untouchable.
"She's with me," he says simply.
The words are calm.But absolute.
The receptionist nods instantly, fingers already moving across her keyboard. "Of course, sir."
"Add her to the access list," he continues, voice even. "Jasper Jean Mariano. She'll be working here for the collaboration."
My brain stalls.
Working… here?
"Including all executive clearance create her access card," he adds. "And send her card to my cabin."
My.Cabin.
Excuse me—what??
I turn to him fully now, disbelief clear on my face, but he doesn't look at me. Doesn't acknowledge the absolute chaos he just dropped into my life like it's nothing.
Like this is normal.Like I'm supposed to just accept it.
I open my mouth—Close it.Because what do I even say to that??
The elevator ride is suffocating.Not because of the space.But because of him.
And her.
Grace.
"His Assistant "
She steps in behind us, heels clicking softly, posture perfect, presence polished to the point of intimidating. She's beautiful—there's no denying that—but there's something about the way she carries herself that makes me instinctively straighten a little more.
Her outfit is sharp.Professional.
But… so revealing....I glance once.
Then look away.
I don't care.
I don't.
The doors slide shut.And suddenly—it's just us.
I stand in front, arms loosely crossed, gaze fixed ahead, pretending like I cannot feel his eyes on me.
But I can.
I really, really can.It's heavy.Lingering.And it's getting on my nerves.
"I know my hair looks totally amazing," I say casually, breaking the silence without turning around. "But if you stare any harder, it might actually catch fire."
There's a pause.
Then I heard —A soft laugh.Very Feminine.
I glance sideways.
Grace.
She's smiling.At him.Something tightens in my chest.Annoying.Unnecessary.Completely irrelevant.
He doesn't respond.Of course he doesn't.Which somehow annoys me even more.
—
The elevator opens.Top floor.The shift is instant.Everything feels… heavier up here.Quieter.More powerful.
We walk into the conference room—and just like that, I feel it.
All the eyes on me.
Ten board members.
My father.
Uncle Kade.
Keifer.
Grace.
Fourteen people.Fourteen expectations.And for one small, fleeting second—Doubt creeps in.
Because beneath everything—
I'm still just me.
I'm just a girl like come on people stop scaring me ..I'm just a very pretty girl....whose very much trying not to mess this up.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Uncle Kade's voice cuts through the room, steady and commanding. "Allow me to introduce Miss Jasper Jean Mariano."
There's a murmur.
Soft.
Curious.
I inhale slowly.Lift my chin.And step forward.Confidence isn't something you feel.It's something you choose.
I connect my laptop, fingers steady even when my heartbeat isn't, the screen lighting up behind me—
And just as I'm about to begin—A knock.
The door opens.
"Sorry we're late—"
Jace.
Relief hits instantly.And behind him—
Jameson.Hawthorne.
I was seeing him after so long...he was my senior in high school just a year above..He was like a brother to me just like Jace...this person had saved my sorry ass twice from some very dangerous situations and I'm always thankful to him for that... He's one of my brother's friend that I can actually tolerate and like...
Seeing them both my shoulders loosen slightly without me realizing it and it made me ready as ever....
I started.And everything else fades.The room disappears.The pressure disappears.
It's just me.My work.My voice.Twelve themes.Complete collections.
Fabric flow, embroidery detailing, structure, color palettes—every piece intentional, every concept alive.
And I see it happening.The shift.Interest turning into focus.Focus turning into approval.
They're impressed.I know they are.
But every time my eyes flick toward him—
He's unreadable.
Cold.
Sharp.
Watching like he's dissecting every move I make.And I hate that it matters.I hate that I notice.I hate it when he's not reacting to my presentation....and why did I hate it all I don't know...maybe I want his validation more than someone else's....
—
When I finished—Silence.Heavy.Long.Too long.And just as doubt starts creeping back—
Clap.
Uncle Kade.Then Dad.Then everyone else.
And then—Him.Two seconds.That's all.But I see it.And for some reason—It stays.
"Exceptional work."
"Impressive vision."
"Strong execution."
The words blur together, but the meaning lands.I looked over at the two very enthusiastic brother's of mine and they looked at me totally at awe...
I went to settle down next to Jace he told me I killed it and that he was really proud of me which made me at peace..after this a long discussion took place...over the designs,the budget , location and everything
And then—Uncle Kade stood up and walked to the front of the table and spoke.
"We've made our decision."
My heart slows.
"We all collectively loved Miss Mariano's designs and concept and have decided that she'll be leading the Watson-Mariano newest collaboration."
My breath catches.The room nods.Agreement.Approval and a whole lot of claps.....
"And the entire 56th floor will be dedicated to this project and Miss Mariano you'll be allotted a team of professionals to help you smooth things over..."
That's—Huge.
"And," he continues, glancing briefly at my father, "with everyone's approval she will be supervised and guided under the guidance of Mr. Watson."
My stomach drops.
Mr.Watson???? WHICH MR WATSON!!!???
I raised my hand and asked VERY politely showing zero fear and asked the dumbest question even though I had an idea of it but maybe just maybe it could be someone else so I asked....."Which Mr. Watson are we talking about??"
A small chuckle.
"Jay," he smiles. "There are only two Mr.Watson you know off."
Pause.
"Mr.Mark Keifer Watson is in charge of all the handlings of this collab."
Everything inside me—Stops.
WHAT THE ACTUAL WHATTT!!??????
ME!??WORKING UNDER HIM!!????
THE KING OF ASSHOLES!!!THE BIGGEST DICKHEAD TO EXIST IN THE UNIVERSE!!!!????
HIM OF ALL THE WATSON!????
WHY GOD WHY!!???
I turned around.Slowly.Looking at him.Waiting.Hoping—maybe—for once—
He'll disagree.
Because this is a terrible idea.We don't work.
We barely tolerate each other.But he doesn't argue.Doesn't hesitate.Doesn't even blink.
He just looks at me—
That same dangerous calm settling in his expression.
And then—That smirk.Small.Knowing.
Ruined my entire life right at the moment....
"Yeah," he says, voice smooth, controlled. "I'll take great care of the collaboration…"
A pause.Deliberate.Intentional.
"And of Miss Mariano as well."
God.
This is bad.
This is really, really bad.
Because somehow—Somewhere between last night and now—This stopped being just about work.And started becoming something else entirely.Something I don't understand.
Something I don't trust.Something—That feels like trouble.And it has a name.
MARK.KEIFER.WATSON.
Lord save me!!!!!!!