Chapter 8 :
Jay's POV:
I didn't know if it was my heart or the clock ticking that made the silence so loud. His face was so close, lips hovering like he was about to claim me in a way no contract clause could erase-
And then-
Knock. Knock.
We jolted apart, me stumbling like I'd been caught in a crime scene. "Mrs. Watson? Dinner's ready," a maid's voice floated through the door.
Saved by the bell. Literally.
I rushed out, muttering something about being tired, and bolted into my room before his smirk could chase me.
Now here I was, hours later, in silk pajamas with my hair down, staring at the ceiling like it had answers.
Why did I close my eyes? Why did my body lean in like some teenage girl desperate for her first kiss?
This wasn't supposed to be real. This marriage was about deals and revenge and making my ex rot in shame-not about... whatever that moment almost was.
My chest tightened, and I sat up abruptly. I wasn't afraid of Keifer Watson's power, or his rules. I was afraid of myself. Afraid of how much I craved things he could never give me-warmth in the dark, tenderness when no one was watching.
But the way his eyes burned into me... maybe he could.
And that thought was more dangerous than any paparazzi headline.
Keifer's POV:
I should've let her go. Let her run to her room and pretend I didn't almost ruin everything by leaning in.
But the truth? I couldn't get the image out of my head.
The way she shut her eyes. Like she was waiting. Like she was ready.
My jaw clenched. My hands curled around the edge of the desk until my knuckles went white. This was why I kept my distance, why I laid out rules for her. Rules weren't for her-they were for me.
Because when Jay looks at me, I forget the Watson name. I forget the company. I forget control.
I want to tear her rules apart and make her break every single one.
I left my office, lights dim in the hallway, her door just a few steps away. I could hear faint movement inside, like she was pacing, like she couldn't sleep either.
My fingers brushed the doorknob. One twist and I'd know exactly what she was thinking. One step and I'd have her pinned again, this time with no interruptions.
But I didn't.
Because if I touched her tonight, I wasn't sure I'd stop.
I leaned against the wall outside her door instead, running a hand through my hair, letting the storm rage inside me where she couldn't see.
She thought I was cold. Distant. Boring.
If only she knew the truth.
If only she knew she was the only thing I couldn't control.
Chapter 8 - Under the Lights
(Jay's POV)
If that knock hadn't come, I don't know what would've happened.
Maybe he would've kissed me. Maybe I would've let him.
Now I'm pacing my room like a fool, overthinking everything. We've only been married a week. A marriage that was supposed to be business, convenience, survival. Nothing more.
But the way he looked at me tonight... it didn't feel like business.
I press my palms over my face. You can't fall into this, Jay. You can't.
A sharp knock. His voice. "Stop overthinking, Watson."
I jump.
"You don't know what I'm thinking," I snap through the door.
"Yeah, I do," he mutters. "Go to sleep before you drive yourself crazy."
I wait, but he doesn't say anything else. Just walks away, leaving me with the pounding in my chest.
(Keifer's POV)
She has no idea.
No idea what she does to me.
I should've kissed her. I wanted to. I still do. And it's pathetic because we're married already-papers signed, names changed. But somehow it feels more dangerous than anything I've ever done.
I tell myself it's fake. That this whole marriage is a deal.
But the way she looked at me tonight? God. One more second and I would've lost control.
And now I can't sleep either.
(Jay's POV)
By morning, I've convinced myself it was nothing. Just tension. Just my stupid brain playing tricks.
Until I remember the nightmare waiting tomorrow.
"There's a red carpet event," I tell him at breakfast, blurting it out before I lose courage. He looks up from his phone, eyebrow raised.
"For?"
"For business. A charity gala." I swallow. "We're expected to attend. Together."
His mouth tilts like it always does when he's about to be insufferable. "So the world gets their first look at Mr. and Mrs. Watson-Mariano?"
I glare. "Don't make it sound like a circus."
"Oh, it is," he says, pushing back his chair. "Better get ready, wife."
The event is worse than I imagined. The second we step onto the carpet, cameras explode in flashes, and a wall of questions hits us.
"How's married life?"
"Was it love at first sight?"
"When can we expect the honeymoon?"
Keifer doesn't flinch. His hand finds my waist like it belongs there, steady and firm, pulling me closer when I instinctively try to create space.
"Smile," he mutters, his lips brushing my ear.
I do. Because the alternative is to let the sharks smell blood.
We pose, we wave, we endure. My heart's racing from more than the lights. The crowd chants, the reporters push closer.
Then it happens.
A bold voice cuts through: "Keifer! One week married-be honest, is it real, or just for show?"
The air goes sharp. I stiffen, but Keifer doesn't hesitate. He pulls me flush against him, arm locked around my waist, and says into the nearest mic-
"It's real. She's mine."
The world roars. Cameras flash. My breath stutters.
Because it's just a performance. It has to be.
But when I look up at him, I can't tell anymore.
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Heyyy guys sorry for the late update my account was acting up.