JAY'S POV —
The first thing I feel is warmth. Soft, steady, grounding. My hair brushes against it, tangling slightly, and I groan, too exhausted to move.
I blink. Slowly. My eyes are swollen, lids stiff, and the light coming through the curtains is harsh in its normalcy. My head spins just enough to remind me I'm awake but not ready.
Then I realize where I am.
Percy's lap. His hand is in my hair, threading through it gently, like he's trying to smooth away more than just tangles. His thumb brushes my temple. Carefully. Steadying me, though I don't know I need it.
I try to push up, try to scramble into some semblance of dignity, but it's too late. My body remembers the night too well, the tension, the tears, the fighting with myself—and I let it go.
I collapse again into him, my hands clutching his shirt. My lips part, a shaky breath escaping, and then the tears come.
Soft at first. Then louder. Then words start to fracture between sobs.
"Percy… I—ugh—"
I can't finish.
He just hums under his breath, teasing gently, "Missed me, huh? Missed your handsome big brother so much?"
That almost makes me laugh. Almost. Instead, I break completely. I curl closer, burying my face against him, and I let the sobs shake me like a storm I've been holding in for too long.
"Shut up," I manage between breaths, "Shut up, Percy—dammit—"
He grins against my hair, teasing, but it's soft. No judgment. "Hey, hey, no cursing me. I told you not to cry, remember? Just rest. That's all you need right now."
I can't. I just… can't. My body is exhausted, but my heart is still raw. Memories of him. Keifer. Damian. Last night. All of it. Colliding in shards that I don't want to pick up, but somehow can't let go.
He shifts slightly, letting me rest better, brushing more stray hairs off my damp cheeks. "There. See? Not so bad, is it? Just rest. I've got you."
I feel small. Broken. Loved. It's overwhelming in all the ways it should be simple.
"I hate this," I whisper, voice raw. "I hate… everything."
"You don't hate me," he says gently. "You can't. Not when I'm here."
I cry harder. I curse under my breath. I curse the city, the rain, the past, Keifer, myself. Everything.
Percy just lets me. Humming soft, teasing murmurs, stroking my hair, grounding me.
"Rest now, Jay. Rest," he whispers again. "The world can wait. You can rest. That's all that matters right now."
And finally—finally—I let myself. Let the tears fall. Let the exhaustion take me.
The lap beneath me is solid. The hand in my hair is steady. And for the first time since everything went wrong, I feel—somehow—safe.
Safe enough to close my eyes and try to be just Jay again. Even if for a little while.
---
I wake slowly.
Not confused this time.
Not drowning.
Just heavy — like something inside me finally stopped pretending it could hold together forever.
My body aches in that deep, hollow way that comes after a long night of breaking. My eyes burn when I open them. The curtains are half-drawn, the city outside already moving on, indifferent and cruel in its normalcy.
Percy is sitting beside the bed.
Not hovering. Not watching me like I might disappear. Just there — close enough that I can feel him, solid enough that I don't have to ask if he's real.
For a moment, I almost pretend nothing happened.
Then the truth settles in my chest like a weight.
"Keifer's gone," I say.
It isn't a question.
Percy nods once.
"You asked him to leave," I add quietly.
"I did."
I stare at the ceiling. The memory of his arms around me, the way our bodies found each other without permission, presses hard against my ribs.
"He listened to you," I whisper.
Percy exhales slowly. "He did. ."
A beat.
Instead, he shifts closer, forearms resting on his knees — the posture he takes when he's about to say something that will change everything.
"Jay," he says gently, "we need to talk. Properly. No half-truths. No protecting you from things you already survived."
I turn my head toward him.
My throat tightens — not from fear.
From readiness.
"Okay," I say.
---
He doesn't start with Keifer.
He starts with the Watsons.
"The watson elders never wanted you," Percy says. "Not even once."
My fingers curl slowly into the sheet.
"They wanted him," he continues. "Keifer. His power. His inheritance. What he could become if they shaped him early enough."
I swallow.
"They didn't know who you were," Percy adds. "Not really. Just fragments. Surveillance gaps. Blurred photos. Proof that he cared about someone."
I close my eyes.
"They knew he loved," Percy says. "And that was enough to mark you as leverage."
My jaw tightens. "They didn't need my name to destroy me."
"No," he agrees quietly. "They just needed him to believe loving you would get you killed."
Silence stretches — heavy, deliberate.
Then Percy says, carefully, "But that's not why Kaizer died."
My breath catches.
I open my eyes.
"You know," I say.
"I always did."
I don't speak.
So he does.
"Kaizer orchestrated the accident," Percy says, voice steady but lethal. "Your parents weren't collateral damage. They were the target."
Something inside me goes still.
"He saw your father as a liability," Percy continues. "Too ethical. Too independent. And your mother… she noticed things she wasn't meant to notice."
My throat burns.
"He paid the right people. Pulled the right strings. Made it look like fate."
I sit up sharply, breath uneven.
"So I killed him," I whisper. "I killed Keifer's father."
Percy turns to me fully now.
"No," he says firmly. "You executed the man who murdered our parents."
Tears spill — not loud, not dramatic. Hot. Furious. Controlled.
"He can never know," I choke. "If Keifer finds out—"
"He won't," Percy cuts in immediately. "I swear to you. That truth ends with me."
I press my fist to my mouth, trying to breathe past the memory of blood and silence and the moment I felt… complete.
"I didn't do it for revenge," I say. "Or power."
"I know."
"I did it because if I didn't," I whisper, "he would've kept killing."
Percy nods. "And because you were done waiting to be spared."
I let out a shaky breath.
"I didn't feel guilt," I admit. "I felt finished."
Percy studies me. "That's when you changed."
"Yes."
"That's when JJM stopped being a shield," I say softly. "And became a weapon."
The words don't scare me.
They feel accurate.
"The Ravens answer to you," Percy says quietly.
"Yes."
"The streets fear you."
"They should."
"The underworld calls you boss."
I inhale slowly.
"And none of that matters," I say.
Percy watches me carefully. "Because of him."
"Yes."
My voice doesn't tremble.
"I could burn this city down," I continue calmly. "Erase families. Collapse empires. End elders who think blood makes them untouchable."
I look down at my hands.
"But none of it compares to the way he looked at me like I was home."
Percy's expression softens — not surprised. Just heavy with understanding.
"I became dangerous to survive loving him," I say. "And I would do it again."
I lean into Percy, resting my head against his shoulder. His arm comes around me immediately — protective, familiar, unshakeable.
"I don't regret loving Keifer," I whisper. "Even if it destroyed us."
Percy presses his cheek to my hair.
"Love didn't destroy you, Jay."
I close my eyes.
"It's the only thing that didn't."
For all the blood on my hands.
For all the power I hold.
For all the fear my name carries—
At the end of it all,
I am still the girl who loved him first.
And that—
That is the one thing no empire, no legacy, no war
could ever take from me.