Jay's POV
The hum of the private jet's engines was a low, constant thrum - a sound I was usually used to, but tonight it felt like a countdown. In the boardroom, I was the girl with the iron spine, the CEO who could stare down a hostile takeover without blinking. But here, suspended at thirty thousand feet, I felt like the frightened child I had been before the titles and the power.
I stared at my reflection in the dark glass. My eyes were still puffy, my skin sallow. I looked like a ghost haunting my own life.
Every time the plane hit a pocket of turbulence, my stomach lurched—not because of the flight, but because of the gravity of what I was doing.
I was flying toward the very man I wanted to meet for my entire life.My dad
My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I tucked them under my thighs, but the tremors moved to my chest.
"You're vibrating loud enough to shake the champagne, Jay-jay."
I looked up. Percy was leaning against the mahogany divider, his silk tie loosened and his designer jacket tossed carelessly over a nearby chair. He was watching me with an expression that was unusually stripped of his trademark arrogance.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly, sliding into the seat across from mine.
"Yeah," I lied, my voice cracking. "Just... a little nervous."
Percy reached across the small table and placed his hand over where mine were tucked away. His palm was warm and steady.
"Don't worry. I'm here. I'm not letting you out of my sight until we're back on solid ground—and even then, I'll be right behind you. Dad might be a lot to handle, but he's still just a man. And you? You're a Mariano. We don't bow; we conquer."
I offered him a small, fragile smile. "I'm not trying to conquer anything, Percy. I just want to stop feeling like I'm breaking."
"Then we'll find the glue," he said firmly. "Get some sleep. New York doesn't sleep, so you'll need the energy."
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The descent into JFK was a blur of city lights and the harsh realization that there was no turning back. As we stepped off the plane and onto the tarmac, the crisp New York air bit at my cheeks.
Waiting by a fleet of black SUVs were two figures. My breath hitched.
Jasfher Mariano—my father—stood tall, his silhouette imposing even in the dim light of the hangar. Beside him was Percy's mother, Reycee Mariano, her elegance effortless even at three in the morning.
Seeing him in person was different . He looked , aged by secrets and a heavy crown. I didn't run to him. I walked with the measured, clicking heels of a woman who ran a multi-million dollar empire. I gave them both a polite, professional side-hug—a gesture that maintained a tactical distance
My father's arms stiffened for a second before he squeezed back, a heavy sigh escaping him.
"You're here," he whispered, his voice thick.
"I'm here," I replied, pulling away quickly.
The car ride to the Mariano mansion was silent, save for the muffled sounds of the city outside. It looked like a fortress of old-world wealth.
It was a sprawling Gothic-revival masterpiece of grey stone and ivy, illuminated by amber spotlights that made it look both majestic and terrifying. It made the Fernandez house——look like a cottage.
Inside, the foyer was a cathedral of marble and gold. A massive crystal chandelier hung from a domed ceiling, casting dancing fractals across the polished floors.
"Jay! Our sweet girl!"
Two elderly figures hurried down the grand staircase. My grandparents. They looked older than I imagined, their faces etched with a mix of relief and sorrow.
They swept me into a flurry of hugs and questions, smelling of expensive sandalwood and nostalgia. I greeted them with practiced politeness, my mind spinning
"Let her breathe," Reycee said, stepping in.
"She's had a long journey. I'll take her to her room."
She led me up the stairs and down a long gallery lined with oil paintings of ancestors who seemed to judge my every step. She stopped at a set of double oak doors and pushed them open.
The room was massive. It was decorated in soft creams, silvers, and deep blues. A canopy bed sat in the center, and a large bay window overlooked the manicured gardens. It was beautiful, perfectly curated, and felt absolutely nothing like me.(Check comment)👉
"Do you like it, Jay ?" She asked, using my name with a tentative hopefulness.
I nodded, running a hand over the velvet duvet. "It's... it's a lot. Thank you."
"Make yourself at home, Jay," she said, hovering in the doorway. "This is your house. Always has been. Refresh yourself, then come down for dinner. Your grandmother has been supervising the kitchen for six hours."
Dinner was an exercise in tension. We sat at a long mahogany table that could easily seat twenty.
My grandparents asked about my school, my hobbies, and my life in a way that felt like they were trying to fill a decade-long hole in ten minutes. I answered in short sentences, my eyes constantly drifting to my father, who watched me with an intensity that made it hard to swallow.
Finally, as the dessert plates were cleared, I set my napkin down.
"Pa," I said, the word feeling heavy on my tongue. "We need to talk. Alone."
The table went silent. Percy caught my eye and gave a small, encouraging nod.
Jasfher stood up, adjusting his cuffs. "Sure. After dinner, we can go to the rooftop. The air is clear tonight."
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The rooftop garden was a sanctuary of glass and steel, overlooking the glittering skyline of Manhattan. The wind whistled through the ornamental trees, but I didn't feel the cold. I was burning from the inside out.
I turned to him, my back to the edge of the building. "Why did you marry my mother?" I asked, skipping the pleasantries.
He didn't look at me. He looked at the Empire State Building in the distance. "I was forced, Jay. It was a merger of families, a pact made in blood and business. There was no love in that house, long before you were born."
"Then why did you leave me there?" My voice rose, sharp and accusing. "Didn't you ever want to talk to me? Meet me? Love me? Or was I just a part of the 'business' you wanted to forget?"
"I did," he snapped, finally looking at me, his eyes flashing with a sudden, raw pain. "I wanted to. Every single day. But your mother... she wouldn't let me. She used you as a shield, Jay. She threatened to disappear with you where I could never find you if I stepped a foot out of line."
I let out a harsh, dry laugh. "Oh, please. Don't use her as an excuse. If you would have really wanted to meet me, you would have contacted me. You managed to stay in touch with Aries. You reached out to him. You helped him. Why wasn't I worth the risk?"
Jasfher froze, his face draining of color. "How... how do you know about that?"
"That's not important," I said, stepping closer to him. "What's important is that I spent my childhood thinking I was unwanted . I spent my childhood feeling like a ghost because the only person who was supposed to protect me—my father—stayed in the shadows while I drowned."
The silence that followed was deafening. I expected him to get angry, to dismiss me, to walk away. Instead, the great Jasfher Mariano seemed to crumble. He covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking.
"I am a coward, Jay," he whispered. "I thought if I kept my distance, she wouldn't hurt you. I thought Aries could be my eyes and ears. I thought I was protecting you by being absent. I see now... I only left you alone in the dark."
He dropped his hands and looked at me, his eyes wet. "I don't deserve it. I know I don't. But please, Jay... give me a chance. Give me a chance to be your father. Not a ghost, not a bank account. A father."
I looked at him—at the man who had loomed so large in my nightmares and so small in my reality. I saw the regret etched into every line of his face. My heart, which had been a knotted fist for so long, slowly began to unfurl.
I didn't say anything. I just stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face in his chest. He let out a choked sob and held me tight, his large hands trembling against my back. It wasn't a fix, but it was a start.
Later, I sat on the edge of the bed in my new, silent room. The moon was high now, casting long shadows across the floor.
I grabbed my phone and dialed a number I knew by heart. It picked up on the first ring.
"Jay?" Alex's voice was sharp, alert.
"Alex," I said, my voice cold and clear. "Did you confirm it? I want the truth of eleven years ago. Everything. The warehouse, the phone calls, the money trail. I want to know what I remember us full truth or half."
There was a long pause on the other end.
"I'm on it, Jay. I've found some... inconsistencies. But Jay, think about this. What if it's true? What if the she was the one who put the blade in your hand?"
I looked at the closed door of my room, thinking of the hug on the rooftop and the warmth in Percy's eyes.
"Then she should be ready for the consequences," I said, my voice like iron. "I'm done being the victim, Alex. If she burned my world down, I'm going to make sure she's the ones who feel the heat."
I hung up and stared at the dark screen. The little girl who cried on the beach was gone. The girl in this room was a Mariano. And in this family, the truth wasn't something you waited for—it was something you took.
A/n
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