Keifer's POV
The invitation doesn't make sense.
That's what bothers me.
By morning, London is already awake—screens glowing, analysts talking too fast, markets moving like sharks smelling blood. I sit in my office, coffee untouched, eyes fixed on the encrypted file pulled up across three monitors.
No crest.No sender.No digital fingerprint.
That alone is impossible.
Watson Enterprises doesn't receive anonymous invitations. Governments hesitate before calling me. Corporations leave trails even when they try not to. Money always leaves a shadow.
This one doesn't.
I lean back, fingers steepled, jaw tightening.
"Run it again," I say calmly.
My head of security hesitates. "Sir… we already did. Through private intelligence networks. Dark web brokers. Even people we don't officially 'know.'"
"And?"
He swallows. "Whoever issued this invitation is either protected by forces above nations… or is dangerous enough that no one wants their name spoken."
Silence stretches.
That's new.
Suspicion settles low in my chest—not fear, but something sharper. The kind you get when the board shifts and no one tells you the rules changed.
"29th May," I murmur. "A gala without a host."
"Should we decline?" someone asks carefully.
I stand.
"No," I say, voice cold as glass. "We don't ignore ghosts."
Still—something about this feels wrong.
Too deliberate. Too quiet.
And for reasons I don't understand, a name I haven't spoken in years presses against my thoughts like an old bruise.
Jayjay.
I push it away.
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Jayjay's POV
Percy does not knock.
Percy attacks.
The door flies open and suddenly my laptop is gone, arms wrap around my shoulders from behind, and my chair spins just enough to make me glare up at him.
"GOOD MORNING, RULER OF DARKNESS," he announces cheerfully. "Time to touch grass. Or silk. Or whatever expensive fabric rich people wear."
"Percy," I say flatly, reaching for my laptop. "Give. It. Back."
He lifts it higher, grinning. "Nope. Mama Reycee said if I didn't physically remove you from work, she'd do it herself—and I value my life."
"I was finalizing security routes."
"At seven in the morning," he says. "For tomorrow's gala that's already prepared"
"Yes."
He leans down, presses his forehead to mine. "Jay. You are not revealing yourself to the world in eye bags and stress."
I pause.
Reycee's voice cuts in from the hallway. "He's right."
Traitor.
An hour later, I'm dressed, hair tied back, composure restored—and being escorted into a luxury boutique that smells like money and ambition.
Dresses line the walls like silent judges.
Gold.Crimson.Black.
Too heavy.Too sparkly.Too loud.
Some look like armor. Others like invitations to be underestimated.
None of them feel right.
"This one?" Percy holds up something dramatic and glittering.
"I'm not a disco ball," I reply.
Reycee studies another gown, elegant but soft. "Too gentle," she decides immediately. "You're not here to be forgiven."
She knows me too well.
Minutes blur into hours. Designers flutter. Assistants whisper. Percy grows bored and starts rating dresses like a talent show.
And then—
I stop.
My hand freezes mid-air.
Across the room, hanging quietly, untouched—
There it is.
I don't smile.I don't speak.
I just know.
"This," I say softly.
The room stills.
Percy looks at my face and goes quiet for once. Reycee's eyes sharpen—not in concern, but recognition.
"Yes," she says. "That's the one."
I reach for it.
And the world, unknowingly, takes a breath.
I don't touch it immediately.
I just stand there, staring—because some things don't ask to be chosen.They wait.
The dress is midnight blue, so deep it almost swallows the light around it. Not black—never black. This color holds shadows the way the ocean does: calm on the surface, dangerous beneath.
I slide my fingers over the fabric.
Silk. Heavy enough to fall with intention. Soft enough to move like it's alive.
The neckline is off-shoulder, asymmetrical—one side slipping just low enough to expose collarbone, not skin. Not vulnerability. It doesn't beg for attention. It commands it quietly.
The bodice fits close, structured, unforgiving. No room for weakness. No room for mistakes.
And then there's the slit.
High—but not careless.
It reveals strength, not seduction. A reminder that I can walk, run, fight if I have to—without ever looking like I'm trying.
This dress doesn't sparkle.It doesn't scream.
It knows.
"This," I say again, firmer now.
Percy lets out a low whistle. "Yeah… okay. I officially apologize to every outfit you've ever worn before this."
Reycee's gaze lingers on me, sharp and unreadable. Then she nods once. "You'll terrify them."
Good.
That's the point.
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By evening, the city feels quieter.
Not peaceful—watchful.
Back at the Mariano Mansion, I retreat to my room after dinner, leaving Percy mid-monologue about how he deserves a custom suit and a standing ovation for surviving the day without annoying me too much.
The balcony doors are open.
New York stretches out before me—steel and glass and ambition stacked into the sky. Somewhere out there, people are planning. Watching. Guessing.
And tomorrow—
Tomorrow, the underworld gets a face.
I step onto the balcony, cool air brushing against my skin, arms folding around myself without thinking. The dress hangs inside now, safely sealed away, but I can still feel its weight—like a promise.
The gala isn't just a celebration.
It's a declaration.
Every mafia family.Every CEO.Royals pretending they don't rule shadows.
They'll all be there.
Enemies too.
Kaizer Watson will be watching.So will men who've lost shipments, territory, sons.
And somewhere—unknown, uninvited by name—he might be there too.
The thought slips in quietly.
Section E.HVIS.Laughter that felt real before power replaced innocence.
Keifer's smile, before it hardened.The way he used to look at me like I was something worth choosing.
I exhale slowly.
That girl doesn't exist anymore.
I do.
Behind me, the city hums. Ahead of me, the future sharpens.
Tomorrow night, the world will learn what the underworld already knows.
That the Queen has been standing in plain sight all along.
And she doesn't tremble.
I turn back inside, closing the doors softly.
Tomorrow is my gala.
And no one is ready.
-------------A/N-----------------------
Yeahh, Tommorow is the Gala..so how many of you are excited to read Keifer's POV when sees Jay in that breathtaking dress..like OMG... so, yeahh the pic of the I'll share it in next chapter, which will come tommorow..🤭🤭. Actually I am a student so, I can't upload more than 2 chapters a day...Sry for not being consistent, but yeahh I'll be uploading at least one chapter daily....Do comment and leave a review..guyss
GoodNight 💖 Sweet Dreams..