Chapter 18: Games We Don't Play
Jay's POV:
The next morning felt heavier than most - the kind of silence that doesn't come from peace, but from restraint.
Downstairs, I could already hear Ella's voice - sweet, calm, perfect.
The same voice that had screamed at her own child.
Keifer was at the window, one hand on the curtain, watching the driveway like something inside him had cracked open overnight.
We hadn't talked much after what he said last night - Kaiz might not be his.
But somehow, the distance between us felt smaller, not wider.
"Sleep?" I asked, walking toward him.
He shook his head. "Barely. I keep thinking about him."
I touched his arm. "We'll fix this. We'll protect him."
He looked down at my hand like he wanted to hold it but didn't. "We'll need to be careful, Jay. Ella's not stupid. If she suspects anything, she'll take him and disappear."
A chill ran through me.
She would do that. I'd seen that look in her eyes - desperate and deliberate.
"So we pretend," I said quietly.
He turned, brow furrowed. "Pretend what?"
"That you still trust her. That we're not working together."
A flicker of surprise - then a faint smile tugged at his lips. "You're terrifyingly good at this."
"Years of surviving men who lie," I muttered, crossing my arms.
"Fair point."
---
The morning passed like a movie set - all staged smiles and fake laughter.
Ella made pancakes, humming like a saint. Kaiz sat at the table, his back still sore but his little voice cheerful.
Keifer played the role of the calm husband, while I stayed in the background, watching everything.
"Jay," Ella called out suddenly, and I stiffened. "I'm really sorry, you know? I heard you and Keifer fought last night... because of me."
Her tone was soaked in syrup - guilt coated with grace.
I forced a smile. "Don't flatter yourself. We fight for sport."
She blinked, momentarily thrown off by the edge in my voice, but recovered quick. "Still, I hate being the reason. I know it's hard for you - seeing me here, with Kaiz."
"You mean seeing you pretend to be a mother?" The words left me before I could stop them.
Her eyes hardened for half a second before the mask came back. "You don't know what it's like, Jay, raising a child alone."
Keifer's fork froze mid-air.
She said it for him to hear. Every word was chosen like poison sugar.
I didn't answer. I just met her gaze, quiet but cutting. "You're right. I don't know what it's like to use a child."
Her smile didn't falter, but her eyes did.
---
Later - Keifer's POV:
Watching them was like watching fire meet ice.
Jay - sharp, protective, unflinching.
Ella - sweet, composed, dangerous.
I was caught in between the past I'd left and the woman who'd made me believe in something new.
I followed Ella with my eyes as she took Kaiz upstairs, humming again, and when she was gone, Jay turned to me.
"We need proof," she said, voice low.
I nodded. "I'll set up a camera in the playroom. Audio too. It's the only place she's alone with him."
Jay's brows furrowed. "You're sure she won't notice?"
"She won't. I'll make it look like part of the air purifier system."
Her lips twitched. "Wow. Who knew my husband could moonlight as a spy?"
He smirked slightly. "Who knew my wife could scare off devils with a single sentence?"
For the first time that day, she laughed. And I swear it felt like air after drowning.
Author's POV:
That night, Keifer entered their room late. She was already half-asleep, back turned, pretending not to care.
He slid beside her, whispering, "You saw it too, didn't you?"
Her voice was muffled against the pillow. "Yeah. The look in her eyes."
He nodded. "She's slipping."
Silence. Then she whispered, "Good."
He turned, watching her in the dim light. "You're jealous again."
She smirked without opening her eyes. "No. I'm just planning your ex's downfall in my dreams."
He laughed quietly. "Remind me never to cross you."
"You already did."
He leaned closer, lips brushing her temple. "Then I guess I'll keep making it up to you."
The air thickened between them - not with anger this time, but understanding.
Two people bound by chaos, finally fighting for the same side.
Outside their door, the mansion slept.
Inside, a storm was brewing - quiet, patient, and inevitable.