Jay's POV
The morning sun reflected off the glass panels of SE Tower, catching in streaks across the polished boardroom floor. Everything was perfect, precise — down to the last fold of the papers on the table, the angle of the chairs, the order of the laptops. A world under my control.
And yet, in that room, there was one element that defied control.
He was already there.
Mark Keifer Watson. Lean, sharp, composed. Watching, waiting.
I felt it before I saw it — that slow, deliberate pull, the unspoken recognition that had existed the moment we first crossed paths years ago. My chest tightened, but I forced my posture straight, my expression calm, as if the years hadn't left their mark.
Professional. Always professional.
"Good morning," I said, voice steady.
"Morning, Jay," he replied. His smile was faint, teasing, like he knew something I was pretending to have forgotten.
I adjusted my blazer, careful to keep my hands from trembling. I was the CEO of SE Corp, the woman who could take down ten men single-handedly, the one who had survived everything the world threw at her. And yet…
He had a way of making me feel seventeen years old again, running through the hallways of Section E with a secret smile, a racing heart, and a promise I had once believed would last forever.
Coel and Samy flanked me, anchors in a sea that suddenly felt uncertain. Their presence reminded me why I could hold my ground, why I could face anyone — even him.
The investors began filing in, shaking hands, exchanging greetings. Polite smiles. Confident nods. But I was aware only of him.
Keifer sat at the head of the table — or perhaps I should say, at the place where our old worlds intersected again. His posture was easy, deceptively relaxed, but I could see it in the slight tilt of his head, the subtle tightening of his jaw: he remembered. He remembered everything.
I cleared my throat, forcing my attention on the projected slides in front of me. SE Corp's quarterly performance, market projections, and growth strategies scrolled across the screen. Charts, graphs, statistics — all carefully designed to show competence, control, dominance.
I couldn't afford to let the past leak through my polished exterior.
But in the corner of my eye, I saw him glance up. And for the first time, our eyes met.
Time slowed.
For a heartbeat, the room, the city, the entire world faded into the background. His gaze wasn't just recognition — it was memory, intent, something deeper than either of us were willing to say aloud.
I felt my pulse quicken, a reaction I hadn't allowed myself in years. My fingers tightened on the edge of the podium, as if gripping it could tether me to reality.
Professional. Always professional.
"I see you've been busy," he said quietly, just enough for me to hear over the polite murmur of the room.
I swallowed. "So have you," I replied evenly, my words precise, controlled. Every syllable measured to mask the flutter in my chest.
A faint smile played at the corner of his lips, as though he approved of the calm front I presented. "Yes. I've been busy. But some things… never change."
I didn't respond immediately. The phrase hung between us like a whispered challenge. I could feel the tension, a silent acknowledgment of the history that had been carefully boxed and stored for years.
Coel cleared his throat, breaking the invisible line between us. "Shall we begin the formal discussion?" he asked.
I nodded, grateful for the interruption. I flipped to the next slide, moving through SE Corp's strategic plans, potential investment opportunities, and expansion proposals. My voice was steady, unwavering — every word a statement of authority, every pause a demonstration of control.
Yet beneath it all, my mind kept wandering back to him.
He was still Mark Keifer Watson — precise, powerful, magnetic. But in that gaze, I saw the boy who had once walked me home from Section E, the boy who had made promises with a ring I still kept hidden, the boy who had owned a piece of my heart I'd thought lost forever.
I shook my head slightly, forcing my focus back to the present.
This is business. Keep it business.
The investors asked questions. Calculated, difficult, probing. I answered them all, anticipating objections, deflecting risks, turning potential pitfalls into opportunities. Coel supplied additional data seamlessly, Samy handed me supporting documents at just the right moments.
And all the while, Keifer watched.
Not the CEO watching a rival. Not a businessman analyzing an investment. But the man who remembered everything, whose gaze lingered a fraction longer than necessary, whose presence pulled at the walls I had built so meticulously around myself.
When the meeting ended, and the investors were escorted out, the room quieted. Coel and Samy exchanged a glance, sensing the storm brewing just beneath the surface.
He stayed.
"Jay," he said softly, stepping closer. His presence was magnetic, and yet he stopped just short of the table, maintaining a professional distance. "It's been… a long time."
I forced my lips into a tight smile. "Yes. Too long, perhaps."
He didn't smile back. Instead, his eyes searched mine, scanning for the girl I once was, the woman I had become, the unspoken history we shared.
"I promised you," he whispered, almost under his breath, "that I would find you again. And now I have."
I felt heat rise to my cheeks, a blush I hadn't allowed myself in years. I shifted, grabbing my papers, suddenly remembering meetings I still had to prepare for, numbers I still had to check, contracts that demanded my attention.
"I…" I started, but no words came out. I cleared my throat instead, forcing composure. "We should keep this… professional. For the investors."
He tilted his head, as if amused by my restraint. "Professional," he echoed softly. "Of course."
And yet, there was a weight behind the word, a tension that neither of us could ignore.
After the investors left entirely, I retreated to my office, shutting the door behind me. I leaned against the glass, staring out at the skyline, breathing in the city's relentless energy.
Two days had passed since the first hint of his reappearance — the boardroom, the investors, the files, the calculated professionalism. And yet, in every glance, every word, every subtle movement, he reminded me that the past was not done with me.
Coel entered quietly, placing a folder on my desk. "Tomorrow's formal negotiations," he said. "All contingencies outlined. You'll be ready."
I nodded. "Thank you. Make sure Samy has all the updates as well."
He left without another word, leaving me alone with the weight of what was coming.
By the evening, I had reviewed everything, double-checked projections, and gone over negotiation strategies at least three times. My apartment was silent, orderly, as if reflecting the precision I demanded from myself.
Yet I could not shake the memory of his gaze.
The boy who had promised me the world.The man who had found me again.The one who now sat at the head of the table, ready to step back into my carefully constructed life.
Samy appeared just as I was about to retire for the night. "Jay… you've been quiet all day. Are you sure you're okay?"
I let out a small, controlled sigh. "I'm fine. Just… preparing for tomorrow."
Her eyes lingered on me, searching for truths I wasn't ready to share. "Remember to breathe, Jay. Even CEOs need it."
I allowed myself a faint smile. "Thanks, Samy. I'll try."
Her hand rested briefly on my shoulder, grounding me in ways only she could. And for a fleeting moment, I felt that everything might be manageable — if only for a little while.
The next morning, I arrived at SE Corp before anyone else. The boardroom doors opened like a portal into a world that demanded precision, authority, and calm. He was already there, leaning casually against the edge of the table, watching.
And our eyes met again.
For two full days, this silent tension had been building. For two full days, I had forced myself to act like nothing had changed. But in that gaze, the past collided with the present, leaving me breathless, poised, and acutely aware of everything I had tried to bury.
Mark Keifer Watson had returned.And there was no hiding from him now.