Jay's POV
The morning light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of SE Tower, painting golden streaks across the boardroom. I adjusted my blazer and inhaled slowly. Today was crucial — a high-stakes negotiation that could either cement SE Corp's position as a global powerhouse or leave us vulnerable to external influence.
I had prepared meticulously for months. Every chart, every forecast, every financial projection was perfect. There was no room for error, no room for hesitation.
And yet, sitting across the polished mahogany table, I felt it again — that familiar pull, a magnetic gravity I had worked years to forget.
Mark Keifer Watson.
He didn't smile, didn't fidget. Just watched, calm and measured, the way he always did, the way only he could. And I hated how much that simple presence made my pulse quicken.
Professional. Always professional.
I pushed the thought aside and opened the presentation.
"Good morning," I began, my voice even, precise. "Thank you all for coming. Today, we'll review SE Corp's growth strategy, explore investment opportunities, and ensure that our partnership aligns with both parties' long-term goals."
The investors nodded, murmured agreements, and I proceeded, each slide a testament to months of preparation. Market expansion, projected profits, risk mitigation — I walked them through everything like clockwork. My voice never wavered, my gaze steady, my hands controlled.
And yet, Keifer's eyes followed every move, subtle, attentive. Not just assessing the numbers — assessing me.
I could feel him probing, searching for cracks. But I didn't have any. Not today.
The first round of questions came, sharp and calculated. How would SE Corp handle potential market volatility? What were the contingency plans if overseas expansions failed? Could we maintain projected growth without overextending our resources?
I answered each with precision. Charts, data, logic — everything I had at my disposal. The investors seemed impressed, nodding at points, exchanging glances. Coel and Samy were silent, supportive, letting me take the lead.
And Keifer… he leaned back slightly, a subtle smirk forming as if he was amused by my flawless performance.
Do not let him see you falter, I reminded myself. This is business. Not the past.
Halfway through the meeting, a technical discussion about international distribution brought a brief lull. I glanced at Keifer, expecting to see disinterest or critique, but instead, his gaze softened for a fraction of a second.
It was the boy I remembered — the one who used to walk beside me in Section E, whose quiet confidence had made my heart race.
I jerked my attention back to the charts. Focus. Always focus.
Coel's tablet buzzed lightly beside me, a reminder of the alternative strategies we had prepared. I flicked through them mentally, anticipating objections, potential negotiations, and subtle traps. Keifer's company might have the capital, but SE Corp had strategy, discipline, and foresight.
I wasn't about to lose.
The next hour passed in a blur of numbers, agreements, and professional politeness. Questions came from other investors, all of them challenging, testing, probing for weaknesses. I answered each with unwavering confidence. Charts were revised on the spot, alternative plans suggested, all with seamless precision.
And Keifer watched.
He didn't intervene, didn't guide the discussion, didn't push. But I could feel the intensity behind his eyes — a quiet assertion that he was still part of my world, whether I wanted him to be or not.
I hated that he could exert such influence without uttering a single word.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the discussion wound down. I summarized the investment proposals, highlighted SE Corp's strengths, and emphasized long-term sustainability. My voice remained steady, professional, authoritative — everything a CEO needed to be.
And then I paused, letting the weight of the room settle. The investors looked satisfied. Keifer leaned forward slightly, meeting my gaze.
"You've grown remarkably," he said quietly, almost a whisper meant only for me.
I swallowed, controlling the flutter in my chest. "Thank you," I said evenly. "It's been a long journey."
A long silence hung between us, thick with memories and unspoken words. I could feel him reading me as carefully as I had studied every line of the presentation.
Do not falter. Do not falter.
When the investors finally nodded in agreement, it was clear: the deal was secure. SE Corp's global expansion would proceed as planned, with Watson Corp as a key partner. On paper, everything was perfect. On paper, I had won.
But in reality, the quiet war between my past and present had only just begun.
Keifer rose from his chair, his movements calm, controlled, deliberate. "Jay," he said softly. "We'll be working closely. I trust you understand the stakes."
I nodded. "Of course."
And in that moment, I realized something crucial: I could control my empire, control my employees, control the boardroom, even control the numbers. But I could not control him — the man who had once held my heart, the one who had promised he would find me again.
And for the first time in years, I allowed myself to admit it — maybe I didn't want to control him.
The meeting ended, investors left, and the room emptied. Coel and Samy lingered behind, sensing my inner turmoil.
"You did brilliantly," Coel said, voice steady but warm. "Not a single flaw in your delivery."
I nodded, giving a faint smile. "Thank you. It wasn't easy, though."
Samy leaned against the table, curious. "Was it… him?"
I froze briefly, gripping the edge of the table. "He's here. That's all you need to know."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, knowing there was more, but she didn't press. Some things weren't hers to unravel yet.
That evening, back at my apartment, I sank into the couch, exhausted. The adrenaline, the control, the constant awareness of him — it had taken a toll.
I removed my heels, ran my fingers through my hair, and finally allowed my guard to falter for a brief moment. The memory of his gaze, the way he had acknowledged every part of me, the subtle claim he had laid on my world… it was overwhelming.
I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the past, trying to focus on the empire I had built. But no matter how tightly I held onto control, he had a way of breaking through.
And I hated that I wanted him to.
Sleep came fitfully that night. Dreams were restless — fragments of Section E, whispered promises, the weight of decisions I had made, the girl I had been and the woman I had become.
Morning arrived too soon. The city below my window buzzed with relentless energy, a reminder that life moved on, whether we were ready or not.
I dressed quickly, methodically, mentally reviewing every point I would raise during the follow-up discussions with Watson Corp. Today would be about formalizing the partnership, discussing timelines, and ensuring my vision remained intact.
Coel and Samy flanked me again as we arrived at SE Tower. Their silent support grounded me, reminding me that while the past had returned, I was not alone.
Keifer was already there, standing by the glass wall. He didn't look at me immediately, letting the city's skyline capture his attention. Then, slowly, he turned. And our eyes met once more.
Two days had passed since he first walked into my boardroom. Two days of tension, reflection, and unspoken words. And now, with the formal negotiations about to begin, I realized that business and fate were no longer separate.
They were entwined.
And the game had just begun.