The Great Dining Hall was a tomb of mahogany and silver. The Grandfather sat at the head, flanked by his "Council of Shadows"—four advisors who had managed the Watson billions for decades. They looked at Jay-jay like she was a stray cat that had wandered into a palace.
"You're bold, girl," the Grandfather rasped, swirling a glass of blood-red wine. "But bold girls usually end up as footnotes in this family's history. Sit. Eat. Stay silent."
Jay-jay didn't sit. She walked slowly around the perimeter of the table, her fingers trailing over the high-back chairs of the advisors. She was wearing the charcoal Kevlar-silk suit from the attic, and she looked lethal.
"Silent?" Jay-jay asked, a sharp, dangerous smile playing on her lips. "I don't think you want me to be silent, Lolo. Because the silence in this house is where the rot lives. And I just spent an hour in the attic reading all about it."
She stopped behind Attorney Varga, the family's lead counsel, a man known for his "perfect" legal record.
Attorney Varga," Jay-jay said softly. "Such a clean reputation. It's a shame about that offshore account in the Cayman Islands—the one under your sister-in-law's maiden name? The one used to funnel the 'hush money' for the 2018 construction scandal? "
Varga's wine glass hit the table with a sharp clack. His face went from pale to ghostly white. "I... I don't know what you're—"
"Page 42 of the Blue Journal," Jay-jay interrupted, looking at the Grandfather. "Your mother kept excellent records, Keifer. She even noted the exact bank routing numbers."
Keifer leaned back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with pride. He didn't say a word. He just watched his Mutya dismantle an empire's foundation with a few sentences.
Jay-jay moved to the next advisor, Madam Hera, the head of Watson Philanthropy.
"And Hera... so much work for the orphans," Jay-jay tutted. "Does the public know that 40% of those donations actually go toward your husband's gambling debts in Macau? Or should we talk about the 'missing' artifacts from the 2022 Gala?"
Hera's hand began to tremble so violently she had to hide it under the table.
"Enough!" the Grandfather roared, slamming his fist onto the table. The silverware rattled. "You come into my home and insult my council? You think a few old notes from a dead woman give you power here?"
Jay-jay finally sat down, right next to Keifer. She took a sip of her water, perfectly calm.
"It's not just notes, Lolo," Jay-jay said, her voice dropping into a cold, hard tone. "It's leverage. Your mother knew that the only way to protect Keifer was to make sure no one in this room could ever point a finger at him without losing their own head."
She leaned forward, her eyes locking onto the Grandfather's. "You brought us here to 'recalibrate' us. To see if I was a 'weakness.' But look at your advisors. They aren't looking at you for help. They're looking at me to see if I'll say their names next."
One by one, the advisors lowered their heads. The "Council of Shadows" had been blinded by a single spark from Section E.
The Grandfather looked at his advisors, then at Keifer, who was looking at Jay-jay like she was the only star in the sky. For the first time, the Old Man saw the true threat. It wasn't the data, or the money, or the guns.
It was the loyalty.
"You've made your point, Jay-jay Mariano-Watson," the Grandfather said, his voice unusually quiet. "You have the armor. You have the book. But a Queen who rules by fear alone doesn't last long."
"I don't rule by fear," Jay-jay replied, reaching out to take Keifer's hand. "I rule by Section E rules. We protect our own. And anyone who tries to hurt my husband—even his own blood—is just another name on my list."
The dinner continued in a suffocating silence. No one touched their food. The power had shifted. The Lion was still in his den, but the Mutya had just brought the fire.