The office was empty, the cleaning crew having finished their rounds hours ago. Only the hum of the air conditioning and the distant London sirens filled the silence. Keifer remained in his inner office, the amber liquid in his glass untouched. He couldn't stop thinking about the look in Jay-jay's eyes when Felix was dragged away—not the coldness, but the minute, almost invisible tremor in her hands.
He walked out into the main suite, his shoes clicking sharply against the marble. He stopped by Jay-jay's desk. It was perfectly organized, as always. The glass had been cleared, and the blood wiped away.
He was about to turn back when a splash of navy blue caught his eye. It was peeking out from the small, silver wastebasket beneath her desk.
Keifer reached down, his fingers brushing against the cold metal. He pulled out the object.
It was the shredded HVIS tie.
It was damp, stained with a few drops of her blood from earlier, and mangled beyond repair. But as he held it, he realized it wasn't just "trash" she had discarded. The way it had been folded—even in the bin—suggested it had been held tightly before being dropped.
He turned it over in his hands. This was the tie of the boys who called him "Boss." The tie of the family he had tried to build away from the Watson curse.
"If she really didn't care... if she was truly my grandfather's shark... she would have let the janitors sweep this away with the broken glass," Keifer thought, his heart thudding painfully against his ribs. "Why keep it at her desk? Why bleed for it?"
He walked toward the large floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the London Eye. The "Cold King" felt a crack in his armor.
He remembered the airport. He remembered her saying she loved his money. But a girl who only loves money doesn't keep a shredded piece of a cheap school uniform in her executive office. A girl who is a traitor doesn't have a panic attack in an elevator because of a "heatwave."
"You're lying to me, Jay-jay," Keifer whispered to the glass, his reflection looking back at him with a newfound, dangerous spark of hope. "You've been lying to me for a year."
He didn't feel relief. He felt a cold, sharp fury—not at her, but at whatever was forcing her to play this role. If she was being blackmailed, if she was protecting someone, it meant he had been hurting the only person who was actually on his side.
Just then, the door to the suite opened. Jay-jay walked in, having returned to retrieve her forgotten keys. She stopped dead when she saw Keifer standing by the window, the navy-blue fabric clutched in his hand.
For a second, the mask slipped. Her eyes widened, and her breath hitched.
"Mr. Watson," she said, her voice breathy and desperate. "I... I thought you had left."
Keifer turned around slowly. He didn't yell. He didn't insult her. He just held up the tie, letting the shredded ends flutter in the draft.
"This is a very poor quality silk, Ms. Mariano," Keifer said, his voice dropping into that deep, velvet tone that used to make her knees weak. "It doesn't belong in a Watson office. And yet, you kept it close to you all day. Why?"
Jay-jay stepped back, her hand reaching for the door handle. "It was just... debris from the scuffle. I forgot to empty the bin."
"Liar," Keifer said, stepping toward her, his presence suddenly overwhelming. He stopped just inches away, the scent of Scotch and rain surrounding her. "I know that look, Jay. That's the look you give when you're protecting a secret. Who are you protecting? Is it Ci-N? Is it the boys?"
"I'm not protecting anyone!" Jay-jay shouted, her voice cracking.
Keifer reached out, not to grab her, but to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His touch was ghost-light, but it felt like fire.
"5 more chapters of these games, Jay-jay?" he whispered, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that burned. "Because I'm starting to see through the smoke. And when I find out who is holding the matches... I'm going to burn their world down for what they did to us."
He dropped the tie into her hand and walked past her, his shoulder brushing hers.
Jay-jay stood in the doorway, clutching the shredded fabric to her chest. She looked at the security camera in the corner—the one she knew the Grandfather monitored.
"He's getting too close," she thought, a mix of terror and relief flooding her. "He's going to get himself killed if he finds out the truth too soon."
She looked at the tie, then at the empty hallway
5 more days, Keifer. Please... just stay blind for 5 more days.