JAY POV
The roar of my Ducati was the only thing filling the void in my head as I tore through the gates of the Fernandes estate. My skin still felt tight—not from the Kevlar suit hidden under my leather jacket, but from the lingering adrenaline of the League's Great Hall.
The metallic scent of Victor's blood seemed to cling to my senses, a stark contrast to the manicured lawns and the scent of jasmine blooming near the driveway.
I killed the engine, the silence that followed hitting me like a physical wall.
Usually, the house was a riot of noise. Section e would be blasting music, or Aries and Percy would be arguing over some tactical drill in the yard, girls gossiping ariund.
But today, the patio was empty. The pool water was still. Even the guards seemed to have vanished from their usual perimeter posts.
"Angelo? Tita?" I called out, stepping through the heavy oak doors. My hand instinctively hovered near the concealed dagger at my thigh.I pulled the dagger from my thigh, but let's be honest—you can't stab a poltergeist.
Nothing.
The house felt hollow, a shell of the fortress it had been this morning. I moved through the foyer, my boots silent on the marble.
I reached the living room, my heart hammering against my ribs—a different kind of rhythm than the one I felt in the League. This wasn't combat thrill; this was raw, unadulterated fear for my family.
Clang.
Something heavy fell in the kitchen. I spun around, drawing my blade in a blur of motion. My breathing went shallow. I crept toward the kitchen, my eyes scanning every shadow.
When the pantry door creaked open, my soul nearly left my body. I wasn't thinking about assassins; I was thinking about restless spirits and the "graveyard" inside me coming to life. My hand was shaking as I reached for my dagger—not because I thought I could fight a ghost, but because the cold steel was the only thing that felt real.
I was terrified. The "Bloody Crimson" who had just slaughtered a man was gone, replaced by a girl scared of ghost.
"I'm too young to be haunted," I whimpered, feeling smaller than a mouse. I was genuinely, 100% terrified. I'd rather face thirty assassins than one Victorian ghost child.
Suddenly, a warm breath fanned against the shell of my ear. A shadow loomed over me from behind.
"Looking for someone, wifey?" a deep, gravelly voice whispered.
I let out a sound that was half-scream, half-hiccup, and spun around so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet. I lunged forward, the tip of my dagger stopping exactly two millimeters from Keifer's Adam's apple.
. He didn't even blink. He just stood there, looking down at me with an infuriatingly calm smirk.
"Scared my foot, gago!" I hissed, my chest heaving as I shoved the dagger back into its sheath. "I almost turned you into a shish-kebab! Don't sneak up on people in a creepy house!"
Keifer chuckled, a low vibration that seemed to settle in my bones. "Profanity, wifey. Is that any way to greet your husband?"
"Shut up," I snapped, but the adrenaline was already turning into something else.
He didn't shut up.His hands cupped my face, tilting my head back as he crashed his lips onto mine. It wasn't a gentle greeting; it was a claim. He tasted like coffee and something uniquely him. He started sucking on my lower lip, his grip tightening, pulling me into the heat of him
The fear evaporated, replaced by a spark of irritation. I regained enough consciousness to realize he was definitely enjoying my "vulnerable" state. I bit down on his lower lip—hard enough to make him hiss—and shoved him back.
"You really know how to take advantage of a situation," I panted, wiping my mouth. "Leave it. Where are the others? And why is it so dead in here?"
"They're already gone," Keifer said, his eyes darkening with a serious glint. "Somewhere where we're all required. Get ready, Jay. We don't have much time."
"Where? Why the mystery?"
"I'll tell you on the way. We need to move to the chartered flight. Now go. Change."
I didn't argue. The urgency in his voice was enough. I ran upstairs, stripping out of the tactical gear and throwing on a pair of high-waisted white short and a cropped halter top. It was simple, functional, and definitely a far cry from the "Queen" I had been an hour ago.(Check comment)
When I walked back out to the driveway, Keifer was leaning against the black SUV. He had changed too—a fitted black T-shirt that hugged his shoulders and black baggy jeans. He looked rugged, effortless, and distractingly handsome.(Check comment)
I froze for a second, my eyes trailing from his boots up to his messy hair. Damn.
"Like what you see, wifey?" he asked, his voice dripping with amusement.
"Yes—no! I mean, no," I stammered, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks. I looked away, desperately trying to find interest in the gravel at my feet.
He leaned into my space, his thumb catching my chin to force me to look at him. "You look cute when you're blushing, Jay-jay. Now get in the car."
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Keifer's POV
Watching Jay walk down those stairs was a test of my self-control.
The shorts were short—dangerously so—showing off the toned legs of a woman who could probably snap a man's neck with them. The crop top left just enough to the imagination while highlighting the lithe, powerful frame I'd spent the last few months trying to protect. She looked hot. Lethally hot.
But it was the flush on her cheeks when she got caught staring at me that really did it. The Mutya everyone whispered about was currently fuming because she couldn't hide her attraction to her own husband. It was adorable.
We reached the private hangar in record time. The chartered jet was already idling on the tarmac. As we boarded, the luxury of the interior didn't do much to settle the tension rolling off Jay. She sat in the leather armchair, her arms crossed, staring out the window like she wanted to punch the clouds.
"Water, sir?"
A female air hostess approached, her uniform skirt a few inches shorter than regulation. She leaned a little too far over the small table between us, her eyes lingering on me with a practiced, flirtatious tilt of her head.
"Thank you," I said, reaching for the glass.
I felt a sudden drop in temperature. I glanced at Jay.
She wasn't looking at the window anymore. She was dead-glaring the hostess, her eyes narrowed into slits. If looks could kill, the poor woman would have spontaneously combusted on the carpet.
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Jay's POV
I watched the "hostess" practically throw herself at Keifer. Her top was practically screaming for help, and she was smiling at him like he was the last man on Earth.
Jealousy is a nasty, bitter thing. It tasted like copper in the back of my throat. I didn't like the way she looked at him, and I certainly didn't like the way she ignored me like I was a piece of furniture.
Keifer caught my eye and smirked, 'Are you jealous, Jay?'. I saw the remark forming on his lips—something about me being "territorial."
Not today, Keifer.
Before he could utter a single word, I lunged across the space. I grabbed him by the collar of his black shirt, jerking him forward with enough force that his teeth clinked against the glass of water. I didn't give him a chance to recover. I kissed him—hard, messy, and completely dominating.
I bit his lip again, making sure the hostess saw exactly who he belonged to. I poured every bit of my frustration, my jealousy, and my "Queen" authority into that kiss until I felt his hands grip my waist in shock.
I pulled back abruptly, smoothed my hair, and sat back in my seat as if I had just checked the time. The air hostess turned bright red, muttered an apology, and practically sprinted toward the galley.
"Now," I said, looking at a stunned Keifer. "Tell me where we are going."
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Keifer's POV
My brain was still trying to process what had just happened. One second I was about to make a joke, and the next, I was being devoured by a tiny hurricane.
I slowly touched my lip, feeling the sting. My pulse was racing. When Jay decided to be "the boss," she didn't do it in halves. I let out a breath, a slow, dark smile spreading across my face as I leaned back.
"We're going to a wedding," I said, my voice still a bit husky.
Jay blinked, the fire in her eyes replaced by genuine confusion. "A wedding? Whose wedding? Why the big secret?"
"Sir Alvin's," I replied.
Jay's jaw dropped. "Alvin? Our teacher Alvin??"
"The very one."
"With who?" she asked, leaning forward.
"Who would actually agree to marry him?"
"Ma'am Cindy," I said.
The silence that followed was golden. Jay looked like her brain had just encountered a 404 error.
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Jay's POV
Alvin. And Cindy.
The two teachers who had spent the last year practically breathing down our necks, teaching us everything from literature to "life skills." They were getting married? To each other?
"They were... they were teaching us," I whispered, the gears finally turning. "And the whole time, they were...?"
"Apparently," Keifer laughed. "Others are already there helping with the 'security'—which mostly means Percy is trying to steal the spotlight and Angelo is checking the exits."
He leaned closer, his eyes softening as he watched me process the news. "Imagine it, wifey. Our wedding. A real one. No secrets, no League, no basements. Just us."
I felt a pang in my chest—a mix of longing and fear. "In your dreams, Keifer," I muttered, though the edge was gone from my voice.
He went quiet for a moment, his gaze turning piercing. "Where have you gone earlier, Jay? Truly."
The atmosphere shifted. The ghost of the League warehouse flickered in my mind—the blood on my hands, the bow of thirty assassins. I looked at my hands, now clean, but I could still feel the weight of the daggers.
"I told you," I said softly, not meeting his eyes. "To meet some old friends."
Keifer reached out, taking my hand in his. His thumb traced circles over my knuckles. "I won't force you. You can tell me when you're comfortable. But don't think I don't see the change in you today."
We spent the rest of the flight in a strange, comfortable truce. The air hostess came back once, staying a respectable ten feet away. "Sir, we are about to land," she squeaked.
As the wheels hit the tarmac and we headed toward the address Keifer had on his phone, I realized the "peace" I had found this morning was over.
I was a Queen now, and a Queen's family was never truly safe.
But as I looked at Keifer driving beside me, his jaw set and his hand never leaving the gear shift, I knew I wouldn't be fighting this war alone.
A/n
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