(Jay's POV)
The sun was practically screaming through the curtains of our London apartment, and honestly? I wanted to throw a pillow at it. It was only our second day at LSE, and my body was still protesting the time jump from the Philippines.
"Jay-jay, love, time to wake up," Keifer's voice drifted in, sounding way too productive for 7:00 AM.
I groaned into my pillow. "Five more minutes, Boss. The bed has kidnapped me."
But Keifer was already in 'Perfect Gentleman Mode.' By the time I managed to crawl out of bed, he had my outfit steamed and laid out, my bag packed, and a cup of hot chocolate waiting. Seeing him—the youngest CEO of Watson Enterprises—casually making me toast while looking like a literal model was a view I'd never get tired of.
"You're spoiled," he whispered, kissing my forehead as he handed me my bag.
"I'm not spoiled, I'm well-maintained," I retorted, sticking my tongue out.
When we pulled up to the university, the atmosphere shifted. Yesterday's drama with Sarah had apparently made us local celebrities. As we walked through the halls, head held high, people actually stepped aside. Keifer looked sharp, cold, and intimidating, while I was just trying not to trip over my own feet while looking like the future CEO of Mariano and Fernandez corporations.
I heard the whispers. "She's so lucky," one girl sighed. "I'd give anything to be the girl on Keifer Watson's arm."
Keifer leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. "Don't listen to them. I'm the lucky one because I have the Queen of my heart by my side."
I blushed harder than a tomato. "Stop it, Watson. We have class."
We walked into the lecture hall only to see a familiar, annoying face. Sarah. Apparently, her dad had pulled some strings and filed an appeal. We just rolled our eyes and took our seats, ignoring her death stare.
The lecture was... well, it was a Keifer Watson show. At one point, the professor made a mistake in a complex economic formula. Keifer didn't even raise his hand; he just calmly corrected it. The professor looked at the board, then at Keifer, then back at the board.
"Mr. Watson... you're absolutely right. My apologies."
I nudged Keifer. "Show off."
"Just making sure you're getting the right education, love," he winked.
Later, during a free period, Keifer was trying to explain a topic to me that sounded like gibberish.
"I need a bathroom break," I interrupted, standing up. "My brain is full. I'll be back in two minutes."
"Hurry back," he said, already diving back into his books.
As I left the restroom, I wasn't surprised to see Sarah and her 'clones' waiting for me.
"You think you're so tough because you're a Mariano?" she sneered.
I leaned against the wall, yawning. "Honestly, Sarah? I think I'm tough because I haven't died of boredom listening to you yet. Is there a point to this, or are you just practicing for your future career as a professional nuisance?"
She turned red. "You bitch!"
She whistled, and out of nowhere, her brother appeared. He didn't even hesitate. He swung and punched me right in the face.
The world spun. I hit the floor hard, and the iron taste of blood filled my mouth. I looked down at my hands—they were stained red. Suddenly, the hallway disappeared. The familiar, suffocating trauma from my past—the sight of blood that always triggered my panic—hit me like a wave. I couldn't breathe. I was trapped in my own head, shaking on the floor.
(Keifer's POV)
I knew something was wrong. Two minutes had turned into ten. I stood up just as a girl ran into the room, panting. "Keifer! Sarah and her brother... they're hurting Jay in the hall!"
I didn't think. I moved.
When I saw Jay on the floor, bleeding and shaking, something inside me snapped. Sarah's brother was raising his hand again, but I got there first. One punch, and he was out cold on the floor.
I turned to Sarah, my eyes dark. I didn't even have to speak. The "death stare" was enough. She backed away, trembling, until she literally tripped over her own feet and ran away.
I scooped Jay up. "I've got you, jay . You're okay."
(Jay's POV)
I woke up in our apartment with Keifer gently dabbing ointment on my bruises.
"You're a hero, you know that?" I mumbled, wincing slightly.
"I'm just a man who doesn't like his fiancée being touched," he said sternly, though his hands were incredibly gentle.
"I'm so lucky to have you," I whispered, leaning my head on his shoulder.
Once I fell into a light nap, I heard Keifer on the phone in the other room. His "CEO voice" was on. He wasn't just calling the Director to report the assault; he had found out Sarah's dad actually worked for Watson Enterprises.
"Either you move your children to another university tonight, or you can find a new job by tomorrow morning," I heard him say coldly. "The choice is yours."
Needless to say, Sarah wouldn't be coming back for Day 3.
A bit later, Keifer came in with a bowl of soup. He looked so serious that I couldn't help it—I pulled him down by his collar and gave him a mischievous, messy kiss.
"Hey! I'm trying to be a serious caretaker here!" he laughed, kissing me back properly.
Suddenly listening "caretaker" reminded me of something u know right?
I smirked and said keifer, " I heard someone say caretaker " amd suddenly he reacted like he got a memory flashback. "Looks like someone's getting naughty huh , but don't forget "watcher" too!" , he said smirking heavily, too heavily!
We spent the rest of the evening on a massive group call with Section E, Kuya Angelo, Ion (who showed us her tiny baby bump), and the rest of the gang in the Philippines. There was a lot of shouting, a lot of "I'll fly to London and kill them myself" from the boys, and a lot of love.
As we finally turned off the lights, tucked safely in our London home, I realized that no matter how chaotic university got, as long as I had my Watson, I was doing just fine.
(Next morning)
The next morning, the London sun was doing its best to be productive, and unfortunately, so was Keifer. He was already fully dressed in his "Boss Mode" attire—crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up, and slacks that probably cost more than my tuition.
"Jay-jay, wake up. We're going to be late for the CEO-in-training duo debut," he whispered, shaking me gently.
I responded by burying my face into the crook of his neck as he hauled me out of bed. He didn't even struggle; he just scooped me up like a literal baby. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist and buried my face in his chest, smelling that expensive cologne that always made me dizzy.
He carried me toward the restroom, probably intending to dump me in the shower to wake me up, but just as his hand touched the doorknob, his phone buzzed loudly in his pocket.
He balanced me with one arm (the strength is honestly unfair) and answered. It was one of our classmates. After a few "uh-huhs" and "I see," he hung up.
"Change of plans," Keifer muttered, a smirk playing on his lips. "The university is closed today. National holiday."
I frozen for a second, then let out a muffled scream of joy. I hugged him so tight I thought I'd snap his ribs and started pecking his cheeks repeatedly.
Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!
"YES! The universe is a Mariano fan today!" I yelled, throwing myself back onto the bed and starfish-ing across the mattress. "I am going back to sleep until next year!"
Keifer chuckled, shaking his head as he started unbuttoning his shirt to change into something more comfortable. "Not so fast, sleepyhead. You haven't bathed yet."
"I'll do it later," I groaned.
"Actually," he said, leaning over me with a playful glint in his eyes, "let's take a bath together. Save water, right?"
I blushed a deep shade of crimson. "Hey! You already showered once this morning, Mr. Clean. Why again?"
He leaned in closer, his nose brushing mine. "What's the matter, Jay? Are you afraid that I might get even more handsome by bathing for a second time? I know it's a lot for you to handle."
"You wish, Watson!" I shouted, grabbing a pillow to hide my red face.
The "bath" was mostly just chaos. There was a lot of Keifer splashing cold water on me to hear me scream, me trying to ruin his hair with shampoo mohawks, and a lot of teasing that ended with my heart racing way faster than it should during a "relaxing" morning.
After the bath, I was standing there, shivering slightly in my robe, when I looked over at him. Keifer had nothing on but a single towel wrapped low on his waist. His hair was dripping wet, with droplets of water sliding down his neck and over his chest.
I couldn't help it. I just stood there, staring. My eyes traveled down to his abs, which were so defined they looked like they were carved by a professional sculptor.
"Holy... he looks so fucking hot," I muttered under my breath, my brain basically melting. "Eatable. Crazy hot man."
Suddenly, a smirk crawled across his face. He'd heard me.
"Control yourself, Jay wifey ," he teased, his voice low and vibrating. He stepped closer, the smell of soap and man filling my senses.
"I really should go make breakfast now, otherwise I'm worried you'll change your plans and try to eat me instead."
I felt my face turn a shade of red that shouldn't even be possible. "I didn't—you—shut up, Hubby !" I stammered, grabbing a nearby pillow and hugging it to hide my blush.
He chuckled, that deep, rich sound that always made my heart do a backflip. Instead of walking away, he grabbed a fresh towel and started gently drying my hair. He was being so careful, like I was made of glass.
"Seriously, Keifer?" I grumbled, even though I secretly loved it. "Am I your baby or something? You're treating me like I'm a two-month-old who can't dry her own head. It's annoying!"
He stopped, leaned down, and kissed the tip of my nose. "Well, consider this practice," he whispered with a wink. "I guess I'm just showing you that I'll be a pretty good father one day."
I nearly choked on my own air. "Father?! We haven't even had breakfast yet, calm down!"
He just laughed and went to get dressed. We finally got into some comfortable clothes, but the "lovey-dovey" vibe was interrupted by the doorbell.
Keifer's face turned into a block of ice the moment he saw the security feed. It was Sarah's dad. We went to the door, and the man looked like a total mess—suit wrinkled, eyes bloodshot.
"Mr. Watson! Please!" he practically fell to his knees when the door opened. "I heard about what happened. My daughter... she's young and impulsive! And my son, he didn't mean to hit Miss Jay that hard! Please, I've worked for Watson Enterprises for years. Don't fire me!"
I looked at Keifer. The warmth he had just shown me was gone. He looked like the CEO of Watson Enterprises now—cold, powerful, and ruthless.
"Your son didn't 'mean' to hit her?" Keifer's voice was like a blade. "He punched a woman. He made her bleed. And your daughter watched and laughed. You call that impulsive? I call that a lack of discipline."
"I'll make them apologize! They'll do whatever you want!" the man begged, tears actually streaming down his face.
"I don't want their apologies," Keifer said firmly. "I want them gone. You had years to teach your children respect, and you failed. My assistant has already sent over your termination notice. Consider your career at Watson Enterprises over."
"Sir, please! Have mercy!"
"Mercy is for people who deserve it," Keifer replied, his hand on the door handle. "If I ever see your children near Jay again, a lost job will be the least of your problems. Get off my property."
The man was practically trembling, his eyes darting from Keifer's icy face to me, standing right behind him in my oversized hoodie. He must have realized that I was the only person on this planet who could melt Keifer's frozen heart.
"Miss Jay! Please!" he cried out, looking at me with pure desperation. "My children were wrong, so wrong! But please don't let my whole family suffer because of their stupidity. I have worked so hard for the Watsons!"
Keifer didn't even blink. He looked like he was ready to call security to have the man dragged out of the building. But I looked at the man's face—he was genuinely terrified. He wasn't the father of one who punched me; he was just a dad who had raised two total brats.
I reached out and lightly touched Keifer's arm. He glanced back at me, his eyes softening for a split second. I gave him a small, subtle nod—the kind that said, 'Okay, give him a little bit of pity, but don't let him off the hook.'
Keifer exhaled a sharp breath, turning back to the man. His voice was still cold enough to cause frostbite, but the "Executioner Mode" dialed down just a notch.
"Fine," Keifer said, his voice dropping an octave. "You will not lose your job. I'll instruct my assistant to retract the termination papers."
The man started to gasp out a thank you, but Keifer held up a hand to silence him.
"However," Keifer continued, "this comes with a condition. I don't want to see your children in that university ever again. Not today, not next week, not for finals. Get them out. Find them a different school, a different city, or a different country—I don't care. If they so much as breathe the same air as Jay again, you won't just lose your job; I'll make sure you never work in this industry again. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Mr. Watson! Crystal clear! They are leaving London tonight! Thank you, Miss Jay! Thank you!"
Keifer didn't wait for the man to finish bowing. He reached out and—SLAM.
The heavy door shut, cutting off the man's frantic apologies. Keifer leaned his back against the door and looked at me, a playful but tired smirk returning to his face.
"You're too soft, wifey ," he teased, walking over to wrap his arms around my waist again. "But I guess that's why I'm the 'Scary CEO' and you're the 'Merciful Queen.' It's a good balance."
"I just didn't want him crying on our carpet," I joked, poking his dimple. "It would've ruined the vibe of our stay-at-home holiday."
"Vibe saved," he whispered, lifting me up effortlessly and setting me on the kitchen counter. "Now, stay there while I make those pancakes. And no more staring at my abs—it's distracting the chef."
"I make no promises, Watson!" I yelled as he walked away, laughing.
"You know, Watson," I said, leaning forward and resting my chin on my hands. "I was thinking... no matter how many fancy London restaurants we go to, I'll never be able to match the taste of your hand-cooked food. You've ruined me for other chefs."
Keifer paused, the whisk still in his hand. He turned to me, that devastatingly handsome smirk spreading across his face. He stepped closer, boxing me in against the counter, the heat radiating off his skin.
"Is that right?" he murmured, his voice dropping into that deep, velvety tone. He leaned in until our foreheads touched. "Your order, my Queen. As long as I'm the one cooking, you'll never have to settle for anything less than perfection."
I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw my own brain. "Okay, Mr. Perfection, don't get a heart attack from your own ego."
But honestly? I was dying inside. He was so close I could feel the heat coming off his chest. I decided to be a little brat. I reached out and poked one of his rock-hard abs. "Are these even real? Or did you just draw them on this morning to impress me?"
Keifer gasped, acting all offended. "Excuse me wifey? These are 100% Watson-certified, Jay-jay. Do you want a closer look?"
Before I could scream, he grabbed my hand and placed it right on his stomach. My face went from 'cool and collected' to 'human fireball' in 0.5 seconds. He started laughing—that deep, vibrating laugh that makes my knees feel like jelly.
"You're blushing again," he whispered, looking way too proud of himself.
"I am not! It's just... the stove! It's hot!" I stammered, trying to pull my hand away, but he held it there.
"The stove isn't even on yet, love."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "I hate you."
"Liar," he said, and then he did that thing where he tips my chin up and kisses me so softly I forget my own name.
We ended up having a literal 'pancake war.' He tried to teach me how to flip one, but I accidentally launched it into the air and it landed—I kid you not—right on top of his wet head. There he was, the youngest CEO of Watson Enterprises, looking like a total snack with a half-cooked pancake sitting on his hair like a tiny hat.
I doubled over laughing, pointing at him. "Oh my god! Look at the new Watson fashion trend! It's the 'Pancake Peak'!"
He just stood there, looking at me with this 'I'm-going-to-get-you' expression. He slowly peeled the pancake off his head and started walking toward me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Oh, you think that's funny, wifey ? Come here!"
"No! Keifer, stay back! CEO orders! CEO orders!" I yelled, scrambling off the counter and running around the kitchen island while he chased me, laughing his head off.
Just as I was about to make a break for the balcony to escape the "Pancake Assassin," the doorbell rang—loud and persistent.
"Wait, wait!" I panted, holding up a hand. "If that's Sarah's dad again, I'm going to throw the syrup at him."
Keifer groaned, swiping the last bit of batter off his forehead with a towel. "He's got ten seconds to vanish before I lose my mind."
He marched to the door, still shirtless and looking like a grumpy Greek god, and ripped it open. But he didn't bark a "get out." He actually froze.
"Kuya Angelo?!" I shrieked, nearly falling off my feet. There stood demon in angel's body staring at us.
He was looking way too sharp for someone who was supposed to be in the Philippines. He had his arms crossed over his chest, his "Protective Brother" eyebrows narrowed so hard they practically met in the middle.
Behind him, three massive bodyguards were casually holding his suitcases.
"Jay-jay," he said, his voice dropping into that deep, scary-protective tone. "I heard there was drama at the university yesterday. I heard someone put their hands on my sister."
Then, his eyes traveled down to Keifer. He looked at Keifer's wet hair, the single towel around his waist, and the chaotic kitchen behind us.
"And you," Angelo pointed a finger at Keifer's chest. "Is this how you protect her? By walking around half-naked and playing with pancakes while my sister is recovering from an attack?"
Keifer didn't even flinch. He just leaned against the doorframe, matching Angelo's stare. "Nice to see you too, Boss. I see you've brought enough luggage to stay for a year. Does Ion know you've run away to London to be a helicopter brother?"
"I am a concerned brother!" Angelo stormed into the apartment, immediately checking my face. He grabbed my chin, turning my head left and right to inspect the bruises.
"Who did this? Where do they live? Do they want to see what a real Fernandez punch feels like?"
"Kuya, stop! I'm fine!" I laughed, trying to wiggle away. "Keifer already handled it. The guy is fired, and the kids are being shipped out of London. We were just celebrating our victory... with a pancake war."
Angelo looked at the pancake still sitting on the floor and then back at Keifer's abs. He let out a loud, dramatic sigh. "Go put some clothes on, Watson. You're distracting my sister and offending my eyes. I am staying here until I am sure she is 100% safe."
"In our one-bedroom apartment?" Keifer asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'll sleep on the floor if I have to! Or better yet, Jay-jay, come stay at the hotel with me," Angelo declared.
Keifer stepped forward, wrapping an arm firmly around my waist and pulling me into his side. "Not happening, Boss. She stays with me."
The tension was so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. Angelo looked like he was ready to start a wrestling match, and Keifer looked ready to win it.
"Okay, boys! Chill!" I yelled, stepping between them. "Kuya, if you're staying, you're helping with the dishes. And Keifer, for the love of god, go put on a shirt before my brother's head explodes!"
I grabbed my phone faster than Keifer could say "get out." There was only one person on this planet who could reel in the "Overprotective Beast" The great Angelo the demon , and that was his pregnant, beautiful, and very scary wife.
I hit FaceTime, and Ion picked up on the second ring, looking glowing and peaceful back in the Philippines.
"Hey, Jay-jay! How's London?" she chirped, but then she saw my bruised face and her expression shifted. "Oh, Jay... your poor face! Is Keifer taking care of you?"
"He was!" I yelled, turning the camera toward the door. "Until this giant gorilla showed up and started a territory war in our kitchen!"
I flipped the camera to show Angelo, who was currently hovering over Keifer, criticizing the way he was holding a frying pan.
"Angelo Fernandez!" Ion's voice boomed through the speakers. "What on earth are you doing in London? I told you to go there for the business meeting, check on them briefly, and then come home to me!"
Angelo froze mid-sentence. He slowly turned toward the phone, his tough-guy act melting into "Scared Husband" mode instantly. "Ion, honey... someone hit Jay-jay! I had to come and make sure Watson hadn't turned soft!"
"He's not soft, he's shirtless and making me pancakes!" I shouted in the background.
"Angelo," Ion said, her tone sweet but dangerous. "Leave those kids alone. Keifer has been handling that company since he was practically a teenager; he can handle a bully. You are stressing me out, and the baby doesn't like it when Daddy is being a bully."
Angelo's shoulders slumped. "The baby said that?"
"The baby told me via a very sharp kick to the ribs," Ion lied expertly. "Now, sit down, eat a pancake, and stop trying to move into their bedroom. Do you hear me?"
"Yes, wife," Angelo mumbled, looking like a kicked puppy.
Keifer smirked, finally flipping a perfect pancake onto a plate and sliding it toward my brother. "Eat up, Kuya. You've had a long flight."
Angelo sat down at the stool, grumbling under his breath about "young punks" and "no respect," but he started eating anyway. Keifer winked at me, and I blew a kiss to Ion on the screen.
"You're a lifesaver, Ion," I whispered.
"I know," she laughed. "Enjoy your holiday, guys. Angelo, if you aren't back in three days, I'm changing the locks!"
With the "Angelo Crisis" somewhat managed, the three of us actually sat down for a weirdly quiet breakfast. Angelo kept squinting at Keifer's muscles, and Keifer kept acting like he didn't notice.
I snatched my phone back and started the group call with Section E. If I had to suffer through Angelo's "Big Brother" interrogation, everyone else was going to enjoy the show.
The screen exploded with faces—David, Calix, Mica, Edrix, and Freya were all huddled together in their London dorm, while Ci-n, Rory, and Eman joined in from the Philippines, looking like they just woke up.
"GUYS!" I yelled, turning the camera toward the dining table. "Look who decided to invade our apartment because he doesn't think Keifer is 'manly' enough!"
I panned the camera to Angelo, who was aggressively shoving a piece of pancake into his mouth while still wearing his designer suit jacket.
"Is that... is that Kuya Angelo?" Eman roared with laughter. "Bro, did you fly halfway across the world just to be a third wheel? That's legendary hater behavior!"
"Shut up, Eman!" Angelo barked, points a fork at the screen. "I am here on official Company business! And for your information, Ion already yelled at me, so I don't need it from you clowns!"
Mica and Freya were literally wheezing. "Wait, wait," Calix chimed in, squinting at the screen. "Is Keifer still shirtless? And why is there a pancake on the floor?"
Keifer leaned into the frame, casually resting his chin on my shoulder and flashing a smug grin at the camera. "The pancake is a casualty of war. And Angelo is here to make sure I don't accidentally let Jay-jay trip over her own feet. He's very helpful."
"He looks like he's about to cry because Ion told him to behave," Rory teased from the Philippines side. "Hey Kuya, do you want us to send you some tissue? Or maybe a leash?"
"You guys are dead! All of you! When I get back, extra training for everyone!" Angelo yelled, but he couldn't help but crack a small smile when he saw how much fun everyone was having.
Even though it was a "National Holiday" and the morning started with drama and blood, sitting there with Keifer's arm around me, my brother grumbling over pancakes, and our best friends laughing on the screen made London feel exactly like home.
"Alright, alright," I said, wiping a tear from my eye from laughing so hard. "We're gonna go eat. Keifer, tell them the news about Sarah."
"She's gone. Her dad's lucky he still has a job," Keifer said simply, his CEO-aura returning for a second. "Now, goodbye everyone. Private time."
He reached over and ended the call before David could make another comment about his abs.
We decided to just rot in the apartment for the afternoon. Honestly, after the "Sarah Massacre" and the "Great Pancake War," I didn't have the energy to navigate London streets with a grumpy Angelo trailing five steps behind us like a secret service agent.
The three of us ended up in the living room. Keifer was sprawled on the couch with his head on my lap, finally having put on a loose t-shirt (much to Angelo's relief), while Angelo took over the recliner, looking like he was judging the quality of our curtains.
"You know, Watson," Angelo said, breaking the silence while scrolling through his phone. "I looked at the university's security footage before I came here. You've got a decent right hook. I'll give you that."
Keifer didn't even open his eyes. "Coming from you, Boss , I'll take that as a PhD-level compliment."
"Don't get cocky," Angelo grunted. "If you had been faster, she wouldn't have gotten hit at all. I'm thinking of sending a few of my men to walk her to her classes."
"Kuya, no!" I groaned, hitting him with a decorative pillow. "I'm a university student, not a high-profile fugitive! I don't need a parade every time I go to the library."
"We are always high-profile," he argued, but he caught the pillow and actually laughed.
The afternoon was surprisingly chill. We watched some random action movie that Angelo kept critiquing ("That's not how you hold a glock!"), and Keifer eventually fell into a light sleep, his hand still firmly gripping my own. It was funny seeing the two most powerful men in my life—the CEO who just dismantled a bully's life and the big brother who scares everyone back home—just lounging around in sweatpants.
As the sun started to set over the London skyline, I looked at them both and felt a weird sense of peace. The trauma from the morning was fading, replaced by the warmth of my favorite boys.
"Hey, Jay" Angelo whispered, seeing Keifer was asleep. "He really does love you, doesn't he?"
"More than anything, Kuya," I whispered back.
"Good," Angelo nodded, his protective guard finally dropping. "Because if he didn't, Ion wouldn't be able to save him from what I'd do."
He also then fall asleep.
I couldn't resist. This was a once-in-a-lifetime blackmail opportunity.
I reached for my phone, moving as slowly as a ninja so I wouldn't wake the "beast" or the "bodyguard." Keifer was fast asleep on my lap, looking like a literal angel with his long lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. In the recliner, Angelo's head had tilted back, his mouth slightly open as he let out a tiny, rhythmic snore.
The two most terrifying men in the Fernandez - Watson empire were officially out for the count.
Click.
I took a burst of photos. One of Keifer looking all soft and domestic, and a zoomed-in one of Angelo looking like a confused bulldog. I immediately opened the Section E group chat and hit send.
Jay: "Look at the protectors of the realm. One is dreaming about pancakes and the other is snoring loud enough to alert the neighbors. 💀😂"
Within seconds, the phone started vibrating like crazy.
Eman: "LMAO KUYA ANGELO'S FACE!! Is he catching flies?? 🪰"
David: "Watson looks way too peaceful. Someone draw a mustache on him with a sharpie. I dare you."
Mica: "Aww, look at them. From 'I'll kill you' to 'I'll nap with you' in five hours. Ion needs to see this!"
I didn't stop there. I sent it to Ion with the caption: "Your husband is currently guarding the apartment with his snoring. Please advise."
She replied almost instantly with a string of laughing emojis: "Typical Angelo! Tell him if he wakes up and feels grumpy, he's officially grounded from London. Give my baby Keifer a kiss for me!"
Just as I was typing back, Keifer stirred. He tightened his grip on my hand and let out a sleepy groan, burying his face deeper into my lap.
"What are you doing, love?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
"Nothing," I said, quickly hiding the phone behind my back and trying to keep a straight face. "Just making sure the 'Queen' is documenting history."
He opened one eye, saw my mischievous grin, and knew immediately. "You sent it to the group chat, didn't you?"
"Maybe," I teased.