JAY JAY POV
The morning sun was suspiciously bright, filtering through the curtains like a spotlight on my poor life choices. My head was fuzzy, my body felt like it had been through a three-hour gym session with a professional wrestler, and the heat radiating from the person next to me was enough to power a small city.
Then I remembered. The engagement. The bed. Everything.
My eyes snapped open. Panic—cold, sharp, washed over me.
"Keifer, wake up!" I hissed. I started tapping his cheeks, which was basically like tapping a marble statue. An incredibly hot, annoying marble statue. "Keifer! Move your caveman self, right now!"
He groaned, the sound vibrating against my shoulder. He didn't open his eyes; instead, he just tightened his arm around my waist, pulling me closer into the tangle of sheets.
"Five more minutes, Mutya..." he rumbled, his voice thick with sleep and that devastatingly deep rasp.
"Five minutes and we're both dead!" I whispered, my heart doing a frantic tap-dance against my ribs. I gave his cheek a slightly harder slap. "Wake up, you idiot!"
Finally, his eyes cracked open. He looked at me, blinking slowly, his hair a mess and his expression unusually soft. It was the kind of look that usually made my brain go 'System Error,' but today, I had no time for short-circuits.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice low and utterly confused.
I stared at him. Is he serious?
"You idiot, what didn't happen?!" I shot back, gesturing wildly at the state of the room my dress on the floor, his shirt hanging off the chair, and the general vibe of 'we definitely crossed the line.'
"Go to your room! Now! Before anyone comes in and sees us like this!" I scrambled to sit up, clutching the duvet to my chest like a shield.
The thought of Tita Serina, or worse—Papa, or the ultimate disaster, Percy—walking in and finding the King of Section E in my bed was enough to make me want to fake my own death and move back to London under an assumed name.
Keifer just looked at me, a slow, lazy smirk beginning to form on his lips as the memories of the night clearly started to flood back. He didn't look panicked at all. In fact, he looked like he wanted to frame the moment and hang it on the wall.
"We're engaged, Jay-Jay," he reminded me, leaning back on his elbows, completely unbothered by his lack of a shirt. "They're literally expecting this."
"They are expecting a wedding, not a live performance!" I hissed, shoving him toward the edge of the mattress. "Get out, Watson! Before I call Jare and tell him you're kidnapping me!"
He chuckled—that low, arrogant sound that always made me want to hit him and kiss him at the same time. He finally sat up, reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind my ear, his eyes burning with that possessive fire even in the morning light.
"Fine, fine," he murmured, leaning in to press one last, lingering kiss to my lips that tasted like a promise. "But don't think you're escaping me at breakfast, Mrs. Watson."
"Go!" I squeaked, pointing at the door.
I watched him saunter toward the connecting door with that infuriatingly confident walk. As the door clicked shut, I collapsed back onto the pillows, my face probably the color of a ripe tomato.
Gosh, Jay-Jay. You are so, so far gone.
The door clicked shut, and the silence that followed was deafening. I stared at the wood grain of the door like it held the secrets to the universe, but all it really held was the lingering scent of Keifer's expensive cologne and the memory of that stupidly satisfied smirk.
I collapsed back onto the pillows, pulling the duvet up so high it nearly covered my eyes. My heart was still doing a frantic, caffeinated drum solo against my ribs.
"This is the second time I let this happen," I groaned into the fabric, my voice muffled and full of self-loathing. Gosh, Jay-Jay, you're supposed to be a sophisticated girl, not a puddle of feelings for the asshole
I forced myself out of bed, showered until my skin was pink, and spent twenty minutes trying to look like a person who hadn't spent the night breaking every rule in the book. Once I felt sufficiently 'normal,' I headed downstairs.
The house was already buzzing. I spotted Mama Reycee and Tita Serina in the hall, huddled together and whispering like they were plotting a royal takeover. In the backyard, Tito Victor and Papa Jasfher were deep in conversation, probably discussing
I tried to walk past them with the stealth of a ninja, but Mama's radar was too sharp.
"Did you have a good night's sleep, honey?" Mama asked, turning to me with a smile that was a little too bright.
Good night's sleep? Right. If 'sleep' includes screaming, near-fainting, and questioning my entire existence, then maybe yes.
"Yes, Mama," I managed to squeak out, my face feeling like it was hovering somewhere near triple digits. I quickly went to sit next to her, desperate to act like the innocent, newly-engaged daughter they thought I was.
But inside? Inside, my head was still in that bedroom, and my body was still humming with the memory of Keifer's hands. At this rate, I'm going to need a permanent supply of iced water just to survive breakfast.
Just as I was trying to blend into the sofa like a very guilty piece of furniture, the sound of heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs.
I didn't even have to look up to know the chaos had arrived.
"Monkey," Jare's voice rang out, dripping with that specific brand of twin-brother smugness that usually made me want to move to a different continent.
I didn't hesitate. I grabbed the nearest throw pillow and launched it at his head with the precision of a professional athlete. "Shut up, Jare!"
He ducked, laughing as the pillow flapped harmlessly past him. Behind him, Percy was leaning against the banister, looking way too awake and way too amused for someone who had technically been dead for years.
"Careful, Jare," Percy teased, his eyes flickering from me to the hallway where the adults were. "You're messing with a future married woman now. She's got the 'Mrs. Watson' authority."
I felt my face heat up all over again. Gosh, can everyone just stop mentioning it for five minutes?!
"Married or not, she's still a monkey," Jare shot back, walking over and intentionally messing up my hair.
"I am going to kill you both," I hissed, swatting his hand away.
Inside, my brain was screaming: If they only knew what happened five rooms away a few hours ago, they wouldn't be calling me a monkey. They'd be calling an exorcist or a lawyer.
I glanced toward the stairs, half-expecting Keifer to walk down and make everything ten times worse with one of his possessive smirks. I sat back down next to Mama, trying to look annoyed at my brothers—which was easy—instead of looking terrified that my secret was written all over my face.
I leaned back into the sofa, finally starting to feel like a normal human being again—until Jare decided to ruin the peace.
"Mama, are you and Papa leaving again?" Jare asked, his voice dropping the teasing tone for a second.
"Yes, sadly we have to leave soon," Mama said, her expression softening into that apologetic look she always got before a flight. "We're thinking of leaving tomorrow."
My heart sank. "But Mama, you two just got here!" I argued, my voice rising. After everything that had happened—the engagement and the absolute chaos of the last forty-eight hours
"Well, tell that to your father," Mama said, gesturing toward the backyard where Papa was still deep in talk with Tito Victor. "Your Papa has a very important meeting, but we will be back. I promise."
I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest. I felt like a five-year-old, but I didn't care. Between the physical exhaustion from last night and the emotional roller coaster of being a fiancée, I just wanted my parents to stay put.
"Aww, look at the little monkey," Jare cooed, leaning over and poking my cheek with an infuriating grin.
"You idiot!" I snapped, swinging my hand to hit his arm.
"Aww, Mom! She's assaulting me!" Jare yelled, dramatically flailing his arms as he tried to block my hits. "Help! My twin has turned violent! Is this what happens when you get engaged to Watson? You inherit the anger issues?"
"Stop it, Jare!" I hissed, hitting him again.
Mama just laughed, watching us like we were a comedy show. "Behave, you two. Jay-Jay, don't kill your brother before we even get to the airport."
I grumbled under my breath, finally letting Jare go. He sat back, panting and laughing, while I sat there thinking about tomorrow. Tomorrow they'd be gone. And I'd be left here
My life is a mess. A loud, complicated, very un-British mess.
"You're not British," Jare said suddenly, squinting at me as if he'd just intercepted my internal monologue mid-transit.
I blinked. "Technically, I am," I shot back, crossing my arms.
"How?" Jare asked, leaning back with that skeptical look he usually reserved for when I told him I'd only spent five minutes in the shower.
"You idiot, we were born in London, which is in what country?" I asked, leaning forward and staring him down.
Jare rolled his eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck, and he stubbornly refused to answer. I didn't have time for his silence, so I gave his arm a sharp hit to refresh his memory.
"England," he grumbled, rubbing the spot where I struck him.
"And what continent?" I asked, following up with another hit because I knew exactly where this geography lesson was heading.
"Europe!" Jare shouted, trying to swat my hand away.
"Which makes me a...?" I trailed off, waiting for him to finish the thought.
"European," Jare finished, sighing like he was being forced to admit I was the Queen herself.
"Ta-da!" I said, throwing my hands up in victory. "Logic, Jare. Try to use it sometime."
I sat back, feeling a tiny bit of my London-born pride return. See? I'm still a sophisticated European girl.
Never mind the fact that I was currently in the Philippines, engaged to a guy who is an asshole like a legal mandate, and sitting between a brother who rose from the dead and a twin who was basically a human migraine.
I looked toward the hallway, part of me still waiting for Keifer to walk in and ruin my sophisticated vibe with a single look. Jay-Jay. European or not, you are officially in Keifer territory now.
Just as I was winning my geographical debate with Jare, the real danger entered the conversation. Percy leaned forward, a dangerous, mischievous glint in his eyes that made my stomach do a slow, panicked somersault.
"Baby sistah, you haven't talked to me since last night," Percy said, his voice dripping with mock hurt. Then, he paused for maximum dramatic effect. "Were you so busy with Keifer?"
Mama and Tita Serina immediately burst into laughter, exchange a "knowing" look that made me want to dissolve into the floorboards. I glared at Percy, my face heating up so fast I was surprised steam wasn't coming out of my ears.
"Answer the question, Jay-Jay," Tita Serina chimed in, leaning forward with an amused grin. "We want to hear the response."
I opened my mouth to say something—anything—about how we were just "talking about the future" or "admiring the moon," but Percy wasn't done destroying my life.
"How could she, Tita?" Percy said, his eyes practically dancing with malice. "She was busy screaming his name last night."
The room went dead silent.
Mama's eyes went wide. Tita Serina froze mid-sip of her tea. Jare looked like his brain had just experienced a fatal error. My heart stopped, restarted, and then tried to exit my body through my throat.
How did he know?! The Watson mansion is literally built like a fortress—it's soundproofed to the max. There is no way anyone heard a thing. My internal panic was hitting London-Gatwick levels of chaos.
Percy saw the look on everyone's faces and realized he might have pushed the "joke" into dangerous territory. He quickly tried to back-pedal, though the damage was already lingering in the air like a neon sign.
"What I meant was... she was busy... yelling at him for being an idiot!" Percy added quickly, though his smirk told me he knew exactly what he had implied. "You know how they are. Pure chaos."
I sat there, frozen, staring at Percy with a look that promised a slow and painful death. Gosh, Jay-Jay. If he knows, then Keifer is going to have to explain a lot more than just an engagement.
The tension in the room snapped as Mama and Tita Serina burst into laughter, clearly taking Percy's comment as just another one of his exaggerated, teasing jokes.
"You naughty boy! You haven't changed at all," Tita said, reaching over and playfully twisting Percy's ear.
"AWW! Tita! Mercy!" Percy yelled, ducking away and rubbing his ear while wearing a grin that said he was definitely not sorry.
Mama and Tita continued their conversation, eventually wandering off toward the kitchen or the sunroom, leaving me alone on the sofa with Jare. Percy had drifted off too, probably to go find someone else to torment.
The silence between us lasted exactly three seconds.
"What really happened last night?" Jare asked, his voice low and serious. He wasn't teasing anymore. He was using that 'twin-telepathy' look that meant he was digging for the truth.
My heart did a nervous little flip-flop. I couldn't tell him the whole truth—the actual screaming-his-name truth—because Jare would probably try to fight Keifer,
"What Percy said," I muttered, staring intensely at my fingernails.
"That you were yelling at him?" Jare asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Exactly," I said, finally looking up and trying to summon my best 'annoyed Jay-Jay' face. "That idiot kept me up half the night arguing about the engagement. You know how Keifer is—he thinks he owns every room he walks into."
Jare studied me for a long moment, his eyes narrowing as he looked for a crack in my story. "You're sure? Because your face is still the color of a fire engine."
"It's the humidity, Jare! Life in the Philippines is a skin-care nightmare!" I snapped, shoving him away and standing up.
I needed to get away before he noticed that my hands were still shaking. Jay-Jay. If you survive this breakfast without Keifer walking in and ruining everything, it'll be a literal miracle.
As soon as Jare's retreating back vanished toward his room, I pivoted. I didn't even give Percy a chance to breathe before I swung my hand and delivered a sharp slap to the back of his head.
"OW! Gosh, sis, is that how you treat a resurrected war hero?" Percy yelped, rubbing his skull.
"Shut up! What do you know?" I hissed, getting right in his face. My heart felt like it was doing a frantic 200bpm sprint. "Tell me exactly what you think you saw, you drama-loving brat!"
Percy stopped rubbing his head and gave me a look that was way too knowing for my comfort. "Well... I know enough to be traumatized for life. Really, sis? In the Watson mansion? Bold choice."
"Idiot, how?!" I demanded, my hands shaking. "How could you possibly see anything?"
Percy leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. "Look, I went to Keifer's room last night. I wanted to have a 'Big Brother' talk with him about the engagement. You know—the usual 'if you make her sad, there are 100 knuckle sandwiches coming your way' speech. But when I got there, I saw the connecting door to your room was wide open. And well... I saw the two of you basically eating each other's faces."
My blood went cold. Pure, London-grade frost.
"I didn't stay to see the rest, obviously," Percy continued, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. "But I made a very logical prediction of what happened next based on the way he was holding you. It wasn't exactly a game of Scrabble, was it?"
"The door was locked!" I blurted out, the memory of the 'click' flashing through my brain. "I know for a fact I heard it lock!"
Percy let out a short, dry laugh. "I have my ways"
I stared at him, my face going a shade of red that defied the laws of physics. Jay-Jay. Your resurrected brother just gave you a play-by-play of your own downfall.
"Don't. Tell. Anyone," I threatened, pointing a trembling finger at his nose. "If a single word of your 'predictions' reaches Mama or Papa, I will personally send you back to your grave"
" Percy chuckled, walking past me toward the kitchen. "Your secret is safe with me. Just... maybe check the locks next time? My eyes need a break."
I stood there alone in the hallway, wanting to scream. He saw us. He actually saw us.
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