--: Author's POV:--
The Harley Street clinic was exactly what Ci-N had promised: discreet, quiet, and smelling faintly of lavender instead of antiseptic. The waiting room didn't feel like a hospital; it felt like a private library.
Keifer sat in the velvet armchair, his hand never leaving Jay-Jay's. He had traded his usual sharp business suit for a simple black sweater, looking less like a CEO and more like a man who would tear the world apart to keep the girl beside him safe.
"You ready?" he asked softly.
Jay-Jay took a deep breath, smoothing down the edges of her skirt. "Yeah. I have to be."
As the doctor called her name, Jay-Jay stood up. She took one step, then paused, looking back at Keifer. Before she could even ask, he was standing.
"I'm right here, baby," he murmured, kissing her knuckles. "I'll be right outside this door. If you need me, you just call, and I'm coming through it."
--: Keigan's POV: --
I watched them leave the penthouse from the balcony. Ever since the rooftop incident, things had changed. The air felt lighter, but also more serious.
When Ate Jay-Jay came back from that first session, she didn't look "fixed," but she looked... brave. Her eyes weren't darting to the corners of the room anymore. Seeing her take that step made something click in my own chest. I was tired of the nightmares, too. I was tired of the way my breath hitched whenever I saw a car that looked like the one from our past.
I walked into Kuya's study that evening. He was looking over some merger papers, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.
"Kuya?" I called out.
He looked up, his expression softening instantly. "Keigan. What's up? You need help with your homework?"
"No," I said, stepping further into the room. "I... I want to go too."
Keifer put his pen down, his entire focus shifting to me. "Go where?"
"To the psychiatrist. With Ate Jay-Jay," I said, my voice trembling only slightly. "I want to go with her."
Kuya stood up and walked around the desk. He knelt down so we were eye-to-level.
"Keigan, listen to me," he said, his voice unusually gentle. "You don't have to do this if you feel pressured. Healing isn't a race, and it's not a requirement to be 'tough.' If you do this just because Jay-Jay is doing it, it might actually make things harder."
"I'm not doing it for her," I insisted, looking him straight in the eyes. "I'm doing it for me. I want to be able to sleep without the lights on. I want to go with Ate Jay-Jay."
A slow, genuine smile spread across Kuya's face—the kind of smile he only reserved for family. He placed a heavy, proud hand on my shoulder.
"Okay. Then we'll make it a family trip. I'm really proud of you, Keigan. Truly."
--: Jay-Jay's POV: --
My phone buzzed on the nightstand just as I was getting ready for bed. It was a video call from the Philippines.
"Kuya Angelo!" I laughed as his face filled the screen.
"There she is!" Angelo beamed, though his eyes were searching mine for any sign of trauma. "Aries told me everything, Jay-Jay. Every single detail. I was about to book a flight to London to personally to finish that Marcus guy, but then he told me that they have handled him and...and he told me you asked for going to the psychiatrist."
I looked down, picking at a loose thread on the duvet. "I did. I just... I couldn't do it anymore, Kuya."
"Jay-Jay, listen to me," Angelo's voice turned serious. "I am so incredibly proud of you. And please, don't think you're doing this because of that case with your mother. That's over. That's closed. This is for you."
"It's over??," I whispered. "And I'm not doing it for the case. I'm doing it so I can actually have a future here."
We talked for an hour—about the boys, about the "Red-Headed Girl" Yuri was obsessed with, and about how Keigan was going to join me for the next session. By the time I hung up, the "ghosts" felt a little further away.
--: Author's POV: --
The progress in the apartment over the next few weeks was subtle but undeniable. Every Tuesday and Thursday, the black SUV didn't head toward the high-rise or a corporate meeting; it parked discreetly behind the Harley Street clinic.
Inside, the sessions were intense. For Jay-Jay, it was about untangling the "blank" episodes from her identity—learning that her survival instincts weren't a monster she needed to fear, but a shield she could finally choose to set down.
For Keigan, it was about reclaiming the night, transforming the shadows in his bedroom from hiding places for ghosts into simple, empty space.
Keifer was the silent pillar through it all. He sat in that same velvet chair every single time, his laptop open on his knees, managing a multi-billion dollar merger with one hand and keeping his eyes on the consultation door with the other. He never pressured them. He never asked what they talked about. He just made sure that when they walked out of that room, his was the first face they saw.
By the end of the month, the psychiatrist gave a rare, satisfied nod. They had developed the tools they needed. The "fever dreams" had faded into distant memories, and for the first time in years, Keigan and Jay Jay —breathed without restriction.
With the crisis at home settled, Keifer's focus shifted. The Watson Group merger entered its most volatile phase. His schedule became a grueling marathon. He would drop the group off at LSE in the morning, attend his own senior seminars, and then vanish into a waiting car to head directly to the Watson Company.
He began coming home long after the penthouse lights had dimmed, his eyes tired but his resolve like iron.
But even in his absence, the "fortress" he built held strong.
--: Yuri's POV: --
The London fog was rolling in as we walked out of the main gates of LSE. Keifer had already vanished; a "crisis" at the Watson headquarters meant he had to speed off directly from his afternoon seminar.
"He's going to be late again tonight," Ci-N remarked, swinging his bag. "The merger is in the final stages. He's basically living on espresso and spite at this point."
I laughed, but my eyes were already scanning the crowd. I saw her near the fountain—the red hair glowing even in the grey London light. She was checking her watch, looking a bit nervous.
"Go on then," Felix teased, shoving my shoulder. "We see you looking. Is it another 'accidental' encounter, or are you actually going to be a man today?"
"Shut up," I muttered, but I started walking toward her.
We talked for a few minutes. I gave her the book I'd promised to lend her, and she gave me a smile that made my brain short-circuit for a second. When she walked away to catch her bus, I felt like I was walking on air.
"So?"
I jumped. Jay-Jay was standing right behind me, her arms crossed and a massive, devious smirk on her face. The others—Thyme, MJ, and the rest—were hovering a few feet away, watching with predatory interest.
"So... did you finally get her name? Did you get her number?? Or was that just another lecture on 'Economic Foundations'?" Jay-Jay teased, poking my arm.
I tried to keep my face neutral, but I could feel the heat rising up my neck. "I've known her name for a long time, Jay, Her name is Naomi. And I've had her number for a while, too."
Jay-Jay's eyes went wide. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. "Don't tell me you two are already dating and you haven't told a soul? Yuri! After everything I've done to set you up?"
"Umm... actually... actually..." I stammered, looking around to make sure the others weren't too close. "Actually, today we are going on a date. A real one."
"REALLY—!"
I lunged forward, clapping my hand over her mouth before she could finish the scream. The boys all looked over, MJ narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
"Don't scream! Don't scream!" I hissed into her ear. "I don't want them to know yet. You know how they are. They'll never let me hear the end of it."
Jay-Jay shoved my hand away, gasping for air but still grinning. "They're going to find out eventually, Yuri! You can't hide a girl like that in a group like ours."
"I know, I know," I said, smoothing down my hair and looking incredibly shy. "But just for today... let it be a secret. I don't want to tell anyone until I'm sure... until I'm sure she actually likes me back."
Jay-Jay softened, patting my shoulder. "She likes you, Yuri. Only a girl who likes you would stand and wait for ten minutes just to get a textbook. Now go. Don't be late. And I'm really happy for you!!"
I checked my watch and grinned. "Wish me luck."
"You're a Section E man," she called out as I ran toward my car. "You don't need luck, you just need to not trip over your own feet!"
"Yuri... Naomi..." Jay-Jay's voice trailed off, her eyes sparkling with that mischievous glint that usually meant trouble for my dignity. She tapped her chin, her smirk widening until it practically reached her ears. "Wait for it... I've got it. Yumi."
I nearly choked on my own breath. "Jay-Jay, stop it!"
"Yumi! It's perfect! It sounds like something sweet, which is hilarious because you're about as sweet as a brick most of the time," she cackled, poking my shoulder again. "Does Naomi know she's half of a power couple yet?"
"There is no power couple! It's one date!" I hissed, my face burning so hot I was surprised the London fog wasn't evaporating around me. "And stop saying that name! If Section E or the other hears you, I'll never be able to show my face at the cafeteria again."
"Oh, come on, Yumi," she teased, emphasizing the name with a sing-song lilt."You did the exact same thing to us with 'Jayfer.' Turnabout is fair play."
"I am leaving," I announced, turning toward my car with as much dignity as a blushing man could muster. "I have a date to prepare for, and I don't need your 'shipping' energy following me there."
"Good luck, Yuri!" she shouted as I started the engine. "Don't trip over your own feet, and tell Naomi that her future sister-in-law says hi!"
I peeled out of the lot, shaking my head. Yumi. God, she was never going to let me live this down. But as I glanced at the passenger seat where the borrowed textbook had sat just minutes ago, the embarrassment faded into a quiet, nervous thrum of excitement.
--: Jay-Jay's POV: --
I watched Yuri's car disappear into the grey mist, still giggling to myself. It was good to see him happy—real happy. Seeing them start to find their own lives in London felt like another layer of healing.
The walk back to the apartment was quiet. The rest of the group drifted toward their own floors, everyone exhausted from the long day of lectures. I waved goodbye to Gorya and Thyme at the elevator and headed up to the penthouse.
The place was silent. The lights were dimmed, and the usual hum of Keifer's laptop or the sound of Keiran and Keigan playing video games was missing. I assumed they were at a tutor session and Keifer was deep in the trenches of the Watson Company.
"Peace and quiet," I whispered to myself, heading straight for the master suite.
My skin felt sticky from the London humidity, and my head was heavy. A long, hot shower was the only thing on my mind. I walked into the massive marble bathroom, the air already feeling cool and sterile. I started to peel off my layers—my jacket, my sweater—dropping them onto the bench.
I was just reaching for the clasp of my bra when a subtle shift in the air behind me made my heart skip. There was no loud noise, just a faint click of the door and the sudden, unmistakable scent of expensive sandalwood.
I froze, about to spin around with my pulse racing, when two heavy, iron-strong arms wrapped firmly around my waist.
I flinched, a small gasp escaping my throat, but the moment the heat of those palms seeped through my skin, I felt the familiar spark. I relaxed instantly, leaning back into the solid wall of a chest I knew better than my own.
"Keifer?" I breathed, my heart rate slowing but my skin beginning to tingle. "What are you doing here? I thought you were at the company for the merger meeting."
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath hot and ragged against my damp skin. "The meeting was cancelled," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble that vibrated through my spine. "I was halfway there when the call came through. Technicalities with the legal team."
He tightened his grip, pulling me closer until there wasn't a breath of space between us. "I came back and didn't see you in the bedroom. I thought you were with Ci-N or the others... I thought I'd take a shower and clear my head before you got home."
He pulled back just an inch, his lips brushing against my earlobe. "But it seems like God had some different plans for my afternoon."
I felt the heat rise in my cheeks, not from embarrassment this time, but from the sheer intensity radiating off him. I watched in the mirror as he stepped back just enough to discard his own clothes. In seconds, he was down to just his boxers, his lean, muscular frame shadowed by the soft bathroom lighting.
He didn't say another word. He turned on the water, letting the oversized bathtub fill with steaming, fragrant water. Then, he stepped in, sitting back against the sloped marble and reaching out for me.
"Come here," he commanded softly.
I stepped into the water, the heat a sharp contrast to the cool air. He pulled me down onto him, my back against his chest, his arms winding around my waist to hold me in place. I let out a long, shaky breath, my head falling back onto his shoulder.
The billionaire CEO, the man who was currently swallowing the London market whole—he was gone. Right now, he was just Keifer, my Keifer to be exact. And as his heart beat steady against my back, I realized that this—this quiet, stolen moment—was the real fortress he had been building all along.
--------
The steam rose in thick, white curls, blurring the edges of the marble bathroom until the world felt like it existed only within the four walls of the tub. Keifer's heart was a heavy, rhythmic thrum against my shoulder blades, the only sound other than the steady hiss of the faucet.
His hands, calloused from years of discipline and now weary from weeks of corporate warfare, began to move. They weren't hurried. He traced the line of my collarbone, his touch searing even through the heat of the water. Slowly, his fingers drifted lower, finding the clasp of my bra. With a deft, practiced flick, the tension snapped. He pulled the damp fabric away and tossed it carelessly over the side of the marble tub, where it landed with a soft thud on the rug.
I let out a shaky breath as his palms finally met my bare skin. One hand slid upward, cupping me firmly, his thumb grazing the peak with a slow, agonizing pressure that made my toes curl against the bottom of the tub. His other hand disappeared beneath the swirling, lavender-scented water, sliding under the waistband of my lace panties. He didn't go inside; instead, his fingers danced teasingly along the sensitive folds, a light, rhythmic friction that sent jolts of electricity straight to my core.
"Keifer..." I moaned, my head falling back against his neck. My hands reached back, tangling in his dark, damp hair.
"Shh," he rasped against my ear, his voice dropping an octave into that dangerous, possessive territory. "Just breathe, Jay. I've been thinking about this since the moment I left the penthouse this morning."
The teasing was becoming too much. The "blank" episodes were a memory, but the hunger I felt now was very much alive. I twisted in his arms, splashing the water as I turned to face him. I didn't give him a choice. I lunged forward, capturing his lips with a desperate, hungry energy.
It wasn't a soft kiss. I was practically eating his lips, my tongue tangling with his in a fierce battle for dominance that he was more than happy to let me win for a moment. He tasted like expensive coffee and the lingering scent of his perfume, a combination that acted like an aphrodisiac.
Keifer groaned deep in his throat—a sound of pure, unadulterated want. He stood up suddenly, the water cascading off his powerful frame like a waterfall, and lifted me with him.
My legs wrapped around his waist almost immediately, my arms locking behind his neck as if I were afraid he'd disappear if I let go.
The water splashed onto the floor as he stepped out of the bathtub, never breaking the kiss. His mouth moved from my lips to my jaw, then down to the hollow of my throat, marking me with a claim that was silent but absolute.
With one arm holding my weight effortlessly, his other hand reached for a plush, oversized towel. He draped it around us, half-heartedly drying the moisture from our skin while our pulses continued to race against each other. In the heat of the moment, the wet boxers and lace panties were discarded, joining the rest of the clothes on the floor.
He pulled back for just a second, his eyes dark with a predatory heat that made my breath hitch. He didn't say a word. He just hooked his arm under my thighs, holding me tight, and walked out of the bathroom.
The cool air of the bedroom hit my skin, but I barely felt it. Keifer kicked the bedroom door shut, the heavy click of the lock echoing through the silent suite. He carried me across the room, his gaze locked on mine, until the edge of the massive bed pressed against the back of his knees.
He laid me back against the silk sheets, the moonlight finally breaking through the London fog to cast a silver glow over us. He hovered over me, his arms braced on either side of my head, looking down at me like I was the only thing in his universe that mattered.
------
The master suite was bathed in the pale, filtered light of a London afternoon, the grey sky outside providing a soft contrast to the simmering heat within the room. Keifer didn't wait. He followed me onto the silk sheets, his body a heavy, welcome weight that pinned me into the mattress.
His mouth found mine again, but only for a fleeting second before it began a slow, deliberate descent. He trailed kisses down the column of my throat, his stubble grazing my sensitized skin until he reached the swell of my breasts. I arched my back, a low whimper escaping me as he took one peak into his mouth. He began to suck and lick with a rhythmic intensity, his tongue swirling around the tip while his hand remained submerged between my thighs, his fingers continuing that torturous, teasing dance against my folds.
The sensation was overwhelming—a dual assault of fire and ice that had my head tossing from side to side against the pillows. "Keifer... please," I gasped, my fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders.
But then, the realization hit me: he was still in control. He was the one orchestrating this symphony of want, and I was just the instrument. A flash of my old, playful defiance sparked through the haze of pleasure.
I waited until he was deep in his ministrations, then I planted my hands firmly against his chest and shoved.
Taken by surprise, Keifer let out a huff of air as he tumbled backward, landing flat on his back on the silk duvet beside me. He blinked up at the ceiling, startled, but before he could recover, I scrambled over him. I straddled his hips, my bare skin sliding against his, and sat tall.
I didn't give him a chance to speak. I leaned down and captured his lips in a searing kiss, all while slowly grinding my core against his "reindeer," feeling the rigid length of him pulsing against me. I could feel him jump beneath me, his breath hitching as I mirrored the teasing he had just put me through.
Keifer let out a strained groan, his hands coming up to grip my waist, his knuckles white with the effort of holding back. He broke the kiss, his eyes dark and clouded with a mix of frustration and desire.
"What are you doing?" he rasped, his chest heaving.
I pulled back just enough to look down at him, a slow, triumphant smirk spreading across my face. "Kissing, baby," I whispered, trailing a fingernail down the center of his abs.
"I know that," he growled, his hips bucking upward instinctively as I shifted my weight. "Why aren't you taking me inside you?"
I leaned down, my hair falling around us like a curtain, and nipped at his lower lip. "Why weren't you the one teasing me just a second ago? Turnabout is fair play, Watson."
Keifer's eyes flared, his grip on my waist tightening until it was almost bruising. "Enough with the teasing, Jay. I'm at my limit."
Seeing the raw, desperate need in his expression, I finally relented. I reached down, my hand trembling slightly as I found his length. I guided him to my entrance, the heat of him making my breath catch. Slowly, I lowered myself, my eyes locking onto his as I took him inside.
"Ah—" A loud, broken moan escaped my lips as my opening stretched to accommodate him. I froze for a moment, my forehead resting against his as my body adjusted to the fullness. The sensation was electric, a deep, pulsing ache that felt like coming home.
I leaned down, pressing my lips to his in a soft, grounding kiss, and then I began to move. I lifted and sank, my rhythm slow and deliberate at first, then gaining speed as the friction began to build.
"God, Jay..." Keifer choked out, his head slamming back against the mattress. His hands moved from my waist to my thighs, helping me drive the pace. "You're... you're going to be the death of me."
"Then die with me," I whispered, my voice breaking as the pleasure began to coil tightly in my gut.
The afternoon sun shifted, casting long shadows across the room, but neither of us noticed. There was only the sound of our ragged breathing, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, and our low, possessive murmurs every time I bottomed out against him.
"You're mine," he rumbled, his voice vibrating through my entire body. "Always mine. Don't ever stop, Jay... don't ever stop."