The digital signature had barely cleared when Jay-jay's personal phone—the one the Grandfather didn't monitor—started vibrating like a panicked heart. She retreated to the darkened balcony of the Manor, the cold London wind whipping her hair as she pressed the phone to her ear.
"Jay-jay? Tell me it's a glitch. Tell me the bank made a mistake,"
Ci-N's voice came through, high-pitched and trembling. "The foundation account... it's zero, Jay. Everything. The scholarship funds, the hospital bills for Edrix's lola... it's all gone."
Jay-jay closed her eyes, her hand gripping the stone railing so hard the cold seeped into her bones.
"Jay-jay, speak to us!" Felix's deeper, steadier voice took over, but even he sounded like he was on the verge of breaking. "We're at the school right now. The guards said the property has been 'repossessed' by Watson Global. Did you sign it? Did you really do it?"
In the background, she could hear Josh and Eman arguing, their voices thick with disbelief. Calix was cursing in the distance, and David... David was just silent, which hurt the most.
I..." Jay-jay started, her throat closing. She saw a flicker of movement in the shadows—the Grandfather's guard, Vuk, was watching from the garden.
One word, and the trigger pulls itself.
"I did what was best for the acquisition," Jay-jay said, her voice a hollow, robotic shell. "The foundation was a liability. It's business, Felix. Grow up."
"Liability?" Ci-N let out a sob that sounded like a wounded animal. "We were your family, Jay! We were Section E! You're not the Mutya anymore... you're just a Watson."
The line went dead. Jay-jay dropped the phone, her knees hitting the stone. She wanted to scream, to tell them Seraphina had moved the money, but she couldn't risk it. Not yet.
Two hours later, a GPS alert from Keifer's security detail flashed on Jay-jay's tablet. He was at The Abyss—a notorious underground club in Soho where the music was too loud and the morals were too thin.
Jay-jay arrived to find the "Cold King" slumped in a VIP booth, three empty bottles of expensive Scotch on the table. He was surrounded by flashing neon lights and women trying to catch his eye, but his gaze was fixed on the ceiling, glassy and dead.
"Mr. Watson," Jay-jay said, stepping into the booth. "The car is outside. You have a meeting with the Board in five hours."
Keifer slowly lowered his head. When his eyes met hers, the sheer amount of hatred and agony in them made Jay-jay want to vanish. He let out a dark, drunken laugh..
"Look at her," Keifer slurred, waving a hand toward her. "The most expensive traitor in the world. How much did he pay you, Jay? Or was it just the thrill of the power? Did it feel good to delete our history with a single click?"
"Get up, Keifer," Jay-jay said, grabbing his arm.
Keifer stood up, but he stumbled, leaning his full weight on her. He didn't pull away; instead, he leaned down, his breath smelling of peat and bitterness.
"You're so efficient, Jay-jay," he whispered into her ear as she dragged him through the crowded club. "Even when you're stabbing me in the heart, you make sure it's 'clean.' Tell me... does it hurt to be this cold? Or are you finally comfortable in that skin?"
As they reached the sidewalk, the paparazzi's flashes exploded around them. Keifer stopped, gripping her shoulders, forcing her to look at him in the blinding light
"Don't touch me with those hands," Keifer hissed, his voice suddenly sharp and sober for a split second. "The hands that signed away Section E... I don't want them on me."
He shoved her away, nearly knocking her into a puddle, and climbed into the back of the car alone. Jay-jay stood on the rain-slicked London street, the camera flashes capturing her pale, motionless face.
7 more chapters, Keifer, she whispered to herself as she got into the front seat. 7 more chapters of being your villain so you can stay alive to be the King.