JAY'S POV
The next morning doesn't arrive softly—it settles in sharp and deliberate, like the beginning of something that refuses to be taken lightly.
I wake before my alarm, eyes opening to the quiet glow of sunlight slipping through my curtains, and for a moment I just lie there, steady and aware, letting the reality of today sink into my bones.
This isn't Milan, not a classroom, not a controlled runway—this is business, real and unfiltered, and instead of nerves curling in my chest, there's something steadier, something stronger… I feel ready.
Getting ready feels different too, more intentional, every movement precise as I dress in something that speaks before I even have to—structured, elegant, unafraid.
When I step downstairs, conversations pause for just a fraction, enough for me to notice.
Jace looking amazed spoke"Wow little sis...are you going to work on designs or to fight some boards members!?"
"Majorly design work ..but if they meddle...why not...."I replied in sarcastically recieving soft laughs from mom and dad...
"Jay, eat something properly before you leave," Mom's voice follows me the moment I settled into the dining area, calm but firm in that way that means she's not really asking.
I barely glance up, grabbing a slice of toast and my coffee instead. "I am eating," I reply, already checking the time, my tone sharper than usual—not rude, just… focused.
Jace leans back in his chair, watching me like I've suddenly turned into someone else.
"Relax,sis" he mutters, "it's your first day, not a war." I meet his eyes briefly, something steady sitting behind mine.
"You'd be surprised how similar those are."
Dad doesn't say much, just watches me with that quiet approval he never voices out loud, while Mom softens just slightly, brushing an imaginary crease off my sleeve as I pass.
"You look ready," she says gently. I pause for a fraction, then nod. "I am." And for once—
I mean it.
—
The Watson building feels different today.Not intimidating.Not overwhelming.
Just… another place I'm meant to walk into and take space in.
At the reception, the girl nearly bows again and I immediately lift a hand.
"Nope—don't do that," I say, half amused, half exasperated.
She straightens instantly, flustered. "S-sorry, Miss Mariano, I was instructed—"
"Yeah, well, consider the instruction revoked," I cut in lightly. "Just tell me where's my access card?"
"In Mr. Watson's cabin, ma'am," she replies quickly. "He asked you to collect it from there..his cabin is on the same floor as your workspace...."
I close my eyes briefly.
Of course he did.
"Is he in the office right now?" I ask.
"No, ma'am. But Miss Grace is—"
"Good," I nod. "As long as I don't have to deal with him this early."
I left my heels creating an effect as I walked to the lift and then as I was waiting I saw the receptionist girl running towards me...
"Miss Mariano—wait!" I turn, brows raising slightly as she hands me another card.
"You can use the CEO's elevator. Sir's orders." I sigh, glancing at it before looking back at her.
"That's really unnecessary."
"He insisted," she says, almost nervously. I study her for a second, then take it.
"Fine. But if I get blamed for this, I'm blaming you." She lets out a small breath of relief as I step inside.
The 56th floor is quieter.Sharper.Like everything here knows its place.
Including him.
—
I stop outside his cabin, staring at the door for a second longer than I should before knocking.
Once.
Nothing.
Twice.
Still nothing.
"Grace?" I call lightly.
Silence.
I frown slightly, then try the handle.
Unlocked.
—
The moment I step inside—I pause because the entire room feels like him.
Dark. Controlled. Precise.
Black walls. Black furniture. Minimal, expensive, intimidating without trying too hard.
"God,how do you ever smile in this room?" I mutter under my breath, walking further in.
My eyes land on the desk.My access card sits right in the center.
Perfect.
Like it was placed there on purpose.
"For someone who loves control, you're incredibly dramatic with this mafia styled dark room dickhead..," I murmur, picking it up.
I'm about to leave when—I notice the frames.
"Okay… now I'm curious," I whisper, stepping closer.
The first one is expected. Family. Perfect. Composed.
The second one—
Isn't.
—
I pick it up slowly.And everything else fades for a second.Because it's us.
My Sixteenth Birthday.A memory I didn't even realize I missed.My thumb brushes lightly over the glass as I take it in, a soft breath leaving me.
"I remember this…" I murmur quietly.
And then—I see it.
My brows pull together.
It was us four..me in the middle,that eleven year old menace sam infront of me and both Keifer and Jace standing either side of me but something is different because everyone is looking at the camera.
Except him.
He's looking at me.
"That's…" I lean closer slightly. "That's not right."
I don't remember this.I don't have this version and I would remember something like that.
The way he's looking—
It's not irritation.
It's not indifference.
It's—
"What are you doing snooping around, Jaybird?"
—
The voice is right behind me.Low.Close.Dangerously close.
I freeze.
For half a second, my breath catches before I force it steady, slowly turning—And the moment I do—He moves.
One step.
That's all it takes.
His hands come down on either side of me, palms pressing lightly against the desk, caging me in before I can even react properly.
My back hits the edge of the desk.The photo still in my hand.
Him—
Too close.
My heart stutters.But my face?Unimpressed.
"Breaking into your office," I say coolly, lifting the frame slightly between us. "Thought I'd fix the depressing aesthetic. Maybe add a personality. You clearly need one."
His eyes don't leave mine.
Not even for a second.
"Bold," he murmurs, voice low, controlled. "Walking into my space and criticizing it."
I tilt my head slightly. "You left the door open. That's on you."
Something flickers in his gaze.Amusement.
Maybe.
"So by your logic if I left my bedroom's door opened you can just walk you way in there as well..!?"
I pushed him slight back "I did knock twice for your information,i just needed my card so that I can enter my own cabin and area that is locked with a card thanks to you...."
He didn't reply back but his attention drops briefly to the frame in my hand.
Then back to me.
"Put it down."
Not loud.Not harsh.But firm.
I didn't move.
"Why?" I ask softly. "It's just a picture."
"It's not yours."
"Excuse you I'm literally in the centre of this picture...," I shoot back, "and I just picked it up to look at it ...I was merely just curious."
—
A pause.Heavy.Charged.—
He leans in slightly.Not enough to touch.Enough to feel.
"Curiosity doesn't suit you," he says quietly.
I let out a small scoff. "And arrogance suits you too well."
His jaw tightens slightly.Barely noticeable.But I see it.
His hand moves then.Slow.Deliberate.He reaches for the frame, his fingers brushing against mine as he takes it from me.
The contact is brief.But sharp.Electric in a way I immediately hate.
He places it back exactly where it was.
Perfect.Like restoring order matters more than anything else.
"Got your access card?" he asks casually, like he didn't just cage me against his desk.
I hold it up slightly, unimpressed. "yes."
He doesn't move.Still blocking me.Still too close.I place my hand lightly against his chest and push.
"Move."
For a second—He doesn't.His eyes drop to where my hand is.
Then slowly—He steps back.Just enough.
I walk past him, brushing his shoulder intentionally this time.
Petty.But deserved.
As I reach the door—
"Jay."
I stop.Close my eyes for a second.Then turn.
He's watching me.Not smirking.Not teasing.
Just watching.Like that picture.
"What?" I ask, tone sharper now.
A beat.Then—
"Don't enter my cabin without my permission again...."
I blink.
That's it?
I let out a small scoff, shaking my head.
"Fine..but from now don't keep my things in your cabin anymore."and then I walked away...
But as the door shuts behind me, my steps don't feel as steady as before.Because that moment?That look?That picture?
It stays and I hate how much it stays.