Keifer POV
He came forward, arms open, trying to hug her.
Jay stepped back, chaos in her eyes.
But he didn't stop.
"Jay, you look beautiful," he said, ignoring me completely.
My jaw tightened.
I almost killed him right there.
If Jay hadn't grabbed my hand, steadying me, he would already be on the floor.
The last straw was when he asked her to dance. "Jay, would you like to dance with me?"
I leaned in, voice low, clipped, deliberate. "Jay babe, you forgot to introduce me."
She froze, eyes wide, lips parted.
The woman was too stunned to speak.
I held her hand tighter, calm but lethal inside.
Because tonight, no one was going to mistake who she belonged to.
"Who is he, Jay?" Cyrus asked, his voice too casual, too bold.
Jay's reply cut sharp, chaotic. "Cyrus, he is my husband — Keifer. And he is my ….ex boyfriend."
The words hit me like fire.
Husband.
Ex.
Two truths colliding in the same breath.
I didn't know what happened next.
I didn't think .
I didn't plan.
I just moved.
I kissed her.
Right there, in front of Cyrus.
Passionate. Angry. Claiming.
She stiffened, shocked, her eyes wide, her lips parted against mine.
For a heartbeat, I thought she'd push me away. For a heartbeat, I thought I'd gone too far.
But then — she kissed me back.
Her hands trembled, chaotic, uncertain, but her lips moved against mine with a heat I hadn't felt in years. Passionate. Fierce. Real.
I pulled back from the kiss, my breath ragged, my chest burning.
Without thinking, I dragged her away from the crowd, away from Cyrus, away from the whispers.
I dragged her
Into the hotel.
Into the room.
The door slammed behind us, the sound echoing like a warning.
I pinned her against the wall, my hands firm, my voice low, clipped, lethal.
"Who the hell was he?" I demanded, every word sharp enough to cut.
Her eyes widened, chaotic, sharp, but she didn't flinch. "I already told you, Keifer. He's my ex‑boyfriend."
The word ex sliced through me like a blade.
I clenched my jaw, steady on the outside, but inside I was unraveling.
Ex.
Past.
History.
But all I saw was him calling her beautiful.
All I heard was him asking her to dance.
All I felt was the chaos of her silence colliding with mine.
She swallowed, her voice cracking. "We dated when I was a sophomore in college."
I stared at her, silent, clipped, my breath heavy.
Sophomore.
College.
Past.
But the fire in me didn't care about the timeline.
Didn't care about the years.
Didn't care about the excuses.
Because tonight, he stood too close.
Tonight, he dared to touch her with his words.
Tonight, he forgot she wasn't his anymore.
And I couldn't let that stand.
I kissed her — hard, hungry, unrestrained.
Years of silence, clipped words, chaos — all of it burned away in that moment.
Her lips parted under mine, shocked, trembling, but she didn't pull back.
She kissed me back.
She tasted like fire, like defiance, like everything I'd been holding back for too long.
My hands pinned her tighter, steady, deliberate, claiming.
I wasn't calm anymore.
I wasn't composed.
I was a man starving, finally taking what was mine.
She gasped against me, chaotic, breathless, her fingers curling against my chest.
And I knew — this wasn't just anger.
This wasn't just passion.
This was years of wanting, years of denial, years of pretending we didn't care.
I lifted her, her legs wrapping around my waist, her breath uneven, chaotic.
I set her down on the table pressed against the wall my hands firm, my eyes locked on hers.
Her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from the kiss, her gaze trembling between defiance and surrender.
I leaned closer, my forehead pressed against hers, my breath steady, my voice low, clipped. "Jay… you're mine. And I don't like people touching what is mine."
She froze for a second, her eyes wide, lips parted, chaos trembling in her silence. But hesitation only fueled the fire in me.
I kissed her — hard, dominant, hungry.
No restraint.
No patience.
Just raw claim.
My lips left hers, deliberate, clipped, steady.
I trailed down kissing and sucking her jaw, her neck, her collarbone — leaving a path she couldn't ignore.
Every touch was a mark, a claim, a reminder.
She froze, breath caught, chaos trembling in her silence.
Her fingers curled tighter against my chest, torn between pushing me away and holding me closer.
I wasn't calm. I wasn't composed. I was a man starved, finally taking back what was mine.
I pulled back just enough, my forehead pressed against hers, my voice low, clipped, lethal. "Jay… every part of you belongs to me. And I won't let anyone forget it."
Her eyes widened, lips parted, chaos spilling through her gaze.
But she didn't deny it.
Not this time.
I kissed her lips one more time, hard, deliberate, claiming.
Then out of nowhere, she shoved me back, chaos flashing in her eyes.
"What the hell, Keifer?" she snapped, her voice sharp, trembling. "One minute you treat me like you're everything, the other moment you treat me like shit."
Her words cut deeper than I expected.
Everything.
Shit.
Two truths colliding in the same breath.
I stood there, silent, clipped, my jaw tight, my chest burning.
Because she wasn't wrong.
I had been both — the man who held her like she was the only thing that
mattered, and the man who pushed her away when the fire got too close.