Ang Mutya Ng Section E (Book - 3) English (On-going)

Keifer's POV

Fuck that Mykel. Because of him, my fist was hurting like hell. Just seeing him made me so angry that I couldn't stop myself.

I made sure to break every bone in his body. If I could have killed him, I would have. But he wouldn't truly suffer if I ended his life too quickly.

He should be thankful—I showed him mercy.

"Where have you been?" Keigan asked me.

"Somewhere. Just roaming around."

He chuckled in disbelief. "Roaming around? And it took you almost five days?"

"I didn't notice the time."

"It's been days, Kuya. You've been gone for days, and you didn't even realize it?" he said before walking away.

I couldn't help but stare at him. What the doctor said about him kept bothering me. It made me worried about my brother's mental health. I hope he was wrong and Keigan doesn't have DID.

I noticed Honey approaching me. She briefly glanced at Keigan before speaking.

"Your girlfriend is out of the hospital."

"That's good," I said and started walking. She followed me.

"Did you throw away the phone?"

She nodded before handing me a piece of paper. "Your cousin said you should work on this."

I frowned. The timing of this was really something. I just took the paper and read it.

It seemed that my position in the company had been upgraded. From making coffee and photocopying documents, I would now be dealing with potential shareholders and investors.

Turning away from Honey, I walked straight out of the suite. Taking long strides, I headed toward the elevator and out of the hotel.

My driver opened the car door for me. "Sir."

"Watson Enterprise. Now," I said as I got into the car.

He quickly closed the door and got into the driver's seat. As he started the car, I continued reading.

The document also listed possible companies we could invest in. My gaze landed on one in particular—

Fernandez Corporation, also known as Fer Corp.

Michael Angelo Fernandez, the CEO of this local company… Looks like I now have something to use against him. I smirked at the thought.

But my smile quickly faded when the car came to a stop. The door opened, and I immediately stepped inside the building. Employees greeted me as I walked past them, but I remained expressionless. I headed straight to Clyde's office.

He was sitting in his swivel chair, but the moment I entered, he stood up and walked toward me.

"You're late," he said. "We have a meeting to attend."

I raised an eyebrow. "We?"

He mirrored my expression. "It's part of your training."

I nodded briefly and followed him. We headed straight to the conference room. I sat in an empty seat near the managers' secretaries, while Clyde took his place at the head of the long table.

"Let's start," he said.

The projector was turned on, and the person in front began presenting. I listened attentively.

The meeting lasted three hours. Just when I thought I was finally done shadowing Clyde, he dragged me to another meeting—with investors this time. And after that, he still made me sit through a meeting with the finance department.

The day was filled with nothing but attending meetings.

"Please tell me this is the last time we have to sit through meetings together," I said as we entered his office.

"Unfortunately, this is not the last time," he replied before walking toward his desk.

"By the way, you need to visit the youngest Elder. I heard he's not feeling well."

Uncle Kier.

"What happened?"

"Why don't you go find out?" he said without looking up.

I almost punched him in the face. The only reason I held back was that he had just replaced the things we broke during our last fight.

Without another word, I turned around and left. Taking long strides, I exited the building. As usual, my driver was waiting. I got into the car and told him to drive to Uncle Kier's house.

His home was by the river, far from the city and other Watsons. He chose to live in isolation because he didn't want to get involved in the greed of the other Elders. No wonder my grandfather trusted him with the key to the Watson Bank.

How long was our flight? By the time we arrived at his house, a cold breeze greeted us.

"Where's Uncle?" I asked his butler.

"He's in the patio. I'll take you to him," he said before leading the way.

I followed him. Uncle Kier's house was simple—the home of an ordinary man living an ordinary life. He truly preferred a simple existence, something the other Watsons could never even consider.

The butler slid open the door and gestured toward my uncle, who was sitting in a rocking chair.

I walked toward him. "Uncle Kier."

He looked at me with sleepy eyes. "You're disturbing my nap."

"Sorry, I heard you weren't feeling well, so I decided to visit."

He let out a short laugh. "Good of you to visit me."

Wait—did he just speak Tagalog?

"W-what? You just spoke—"

"Tagalog? Bitch, please! I can speak eight languages fluently."

Bitch, please?

Where on earth did he learn that? I never imagined the most respectful, youngest Elder would say something like that. I couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Seriously, Uncle. You don't look sick."

He pointed to the bench not far away. I took it and put it aside for him to sit on.

"I'm not sick. I just feel dizzy after talking to the eldest," he said.

He was talking about the firstborn Elder. I knew they didn't get along. I also knew that he was one of the reasons why Uncle Kier moved away.

"Why?"

"His breath smells," he answered, and we both laughed in unison.

He really knew how to make fun of the eldest. He might be strict and scary sometimes, but deep down, he was always like this.

"He scolded me because I helped you," he explained in a serious tone. "They loathe you so much that they've forgotten who you are in this family."

I had already accepted that fact.

He looked away and sighed. "I've loathed this family since the day I was born. Because of my last name, people have always looked at me differently."

"Is that why you never involved yourself in their businesses?"

He wrinkled his nose as if he was thinking carefully about it.

"Sort of," he chuckled. "I'm the outcast of the family—the youngest and most careless."

"Yet the smartest."

He shook his head. "Your grandfather was the smartest. He knew his monstrous son would kill him for his money, so he decided to name you as the heir. And your mother made sure that no one would dare to touch you."

But that was also the cause of her death. By protecting me and the inheritance, she didn't protect herself.

To this day, I still wonder if things would have been better if the inheritance hadn't been named after me.

"Uncle..." I called him. "Why didn't he leave the inheritance to you?"

"I told you, I'm careless. That company would've ended up bankrupt," he said and laughed.

I chuckled a bit. "Are you happy with your life now?"

"I'd be happier if my wife were here, sitting and talking to me."

He was one of the Watsons who had only ever loved one woman—rare in this family.

"How did you manage to stay loyal to just one woman?"

He furrowed his brows. "What a stupid question."

"It's just that you're one of the few Watsons I know who's only had one woman."

He looked at me seriously. I scratched my head. Maybe I had gone too far with my question.

"Are you planning to have more than one woman?" he asked.

I immediately shook my head. "N-no, of course not."

Having anyone other than Jay-Jay was out of the question. She was already too much for me to handle—why would I look for someone else?

"Then you've answered your own question."

I chuckled while shaking my head. He was right. It really was a stupid question. But my smile quickly disappeared when I remembered something. Maybe he could help me.

"Do you know how to break the curse?"

He suddenly burst into laughter, almost to the point of fainting. He sat up straight, and his butler—who I hadn't even noticed was there—immediately handed him a glass of water. He took a sip, then returned the glass.

"There's no such thing as a Watson curse."

I knew there wasn't. But I still liked to call it that. Because when we love, we become different—and that's not normal.

"I-I know, but the thing is—"

"It's happening to you," he said, raising a brow.

I simply nodded.

"It's not a curse. What's happening to you is because of the Watson attitude," he sighed. "Possessiveness, superiority, and pride."

The defining traits of a Watson.

"What should I do? I hurt her because of those traits."

"I was about to ask, but then I remembered why," he said, looking at me intently. "Don't try to erase that part of yourself—just learn to control it."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to do."

He gave me a skeptical look. "Are you?"

Am I?

For the past few weeks, I had been trying to control it in the way I thought was right. But maybe I had been going about it the wrong way.

"I-I don't know if I'm doing it right."

"Why don't you start over? Change your approach. If it doesn't work, try something else."

"I don't have enough time," I said, and he sighed.

He stood up slowly. I immediately reached out to help him, but he shrugged my hands away. His butler quickly bowed before him.

"Sir, is there anything you need?"

"Drop the 'Sir.' He's my grandson," he said and walked back inside the house.

I followed him. He kept walking until we reached his room. He glanced at his butler, who had also followed us.

"Prepare dinner for us and get the guest room ready. My grandson will be staying here tonight," he said, then turned to me. "Wait here. I need to get something."

I nodded, and he entered his room. I didn't bother peeking inside. I had no idea what he was getting, but whatever it was, I knew it would help me.

I decided to call Keigan on the landline first. I contacted the hotel, and they connected me to our suite.

["Make sure you're back early in the morning. I want you to meet someone."]

I mentally rolled my eyes. "Yeah, sure."

We ended the call without any proper discussion or goodbyes. I also called Honey to ask her to keep an eye on Keigan. After what I had learned from his doctor, I was even more worried about him.

["Your brother is talking to a girl. I have a bad feeling,"] she said, irritation clear in her voice.

"What were they talking about?"

["I didn't hear much, but the woman said she knew you because of an old friend."]

My brows knitted together. Who was it this time? Who did she know me from? I had met so many women before that I couldn't even remember them all.

"I'll handle it tomorrow," I said, then bid her goodbye before ending the call.

I lowered my hand and faced the door to Uncle's room again. I even took a slight step back when I saw him standing there, staring at me.

"S-sorry. I used your telephone without permission," I stammered.

He chuckled. "A Watson never says sorry," he said, shaking his head.

"Looks like I'm not the only one in this family," I muttered.

I noticed the thick book he was holding—a photo album. As he walked closer, he reached for it. He put his arm around me and gave me a slight push forward.

"What is this for?" I asked as we walked.

"Time to reminisce about the past."

We continued walking until we reached the dining room, where Uncle's butler was preparing the table.

"The food will be ready in a minute, sir," the butler said, motioning for us to sit.

We did, and I placed the photo album on the table. As I opened it, I raised an eyebrow at the first image. It looked more like a hand-drawn sketch but had been printed as a photo.

"That's our great-grandfather," Uncle said, pointing at the figure. "He was a pirate."

So that's why we have so much gold.

I stared at the face in the sketch. Even though it was just a drawing, it still managed to convey my ancestor's superiority.

"But I thought the Watsons were on the good side—politicians, officers, business owners, dukes, or even members of the royal family," I said, confused.

"I guess he was an exception," Uncle replied, motioning for me to turn the page.

The second image was an actual photograph, though old and worn. It was black and white with a yellowish tint, so delicate that a wrong touch could tear it.

The photo showed an entire family lined up—from grandparents to great-grandchildren. The man in the center looked over fifty, and no one in the picture was smiling.

"That's our family before World War I," Uncle explained.

No wonder it looked so old.

As I turned the pages, I saw more historical photographs—some showing men holding guns, others sitting beside corpses. War-torn images gave way to pictures of palaces and men standing next to Queen Victoria.

So we really are connected to the royal family. Jay-Jay would definitely laugh if I told her about this. 😂

I continued flipping through the album until I stopped at a photo of seven men. I recognized five of them—Uncle Kier and the four Elders of the family.

But who were the other two?

"That's your grandfather," Uncle said, pointing at the man in the center. "The one who left you the inheritance."

I stared at him. For some reason, I saw myself in him—his posture, his glare—we looked alike. My gaze then shifted to the man beside him.

I pointed at him. "Who's this?"

Uncle hesitated, staring at the picture. "That… that's our older brother. He passed away at a young age."

"W-why?" I asked.

"Suicide. But I know it was more than that," he said, removing the photo from the album. "We found him hanging from a rope in our old barn. Your grandfather and I knew he wasn't the type to do such a thing, but the Eldest convinced the family that he killed himself over a broken heart."

He was talking about the current Firstborn Elder. So, he wasn't actually the eldest? Something terrible must have happened in the family.

"Do you really believe that was the reason?" I asked.

Uncle shook his head. "Never. I knew him. He always protected us, always reminded us he'd never leave us."

"You think someone did this to him?"

"Yes. But no further investigation was done, and our parents never proved it." He put the photo back in the album. "I know someone killed him. He was supposed to be the inheritor."

I let out a small chuckle. "Very suspicious."

Uncle turned the page, and my eyes landed on a picture I immediately wanted to burn—my dad's baby photo.

"The monster," I whispered.

A thought crossed my mind. If my grandfather wasn't the eldest or even the second eldest, why did he receive the inheritance?

"Uncle," I said as he flipped another page. "If my grandfather wasn't the eldest, how did he end up with the inheritance?"

Uncle let out a quiet laugh. "Your grandfather was slick as hell. He impregnated the Eldest's wife and took the child away—that's your father, by the way. To make a long story short, the Eldest lost his mind, turned into a beast, and our parents lost trust in him. So, they handed everything over to your grandfather instead."

I chuckled and shook my head. Now I knew where I got my slick attitude.

Uncle turned the pages again, revealing a photo of my dad as a teenager. He looked exactly like Keigan. They could've been twins. He was surrounded by what seemed to be his cousins, but one person stood out.

I studied his face. He looked familiar, but I couldn't place where I had seen him before.

"This… this can't be," I muttered.

Uncle sighed. "Remember when I told you about our older brother? How he supposedly killed himself over a woman?"

I nodded.

"That woman was pregnant—with another man's child. When my brother died, the family blamed her. They made her life a living hell until, in the final month of her pregnancy, she took her own life." He leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. "We managed to save the baby before she took her last breath."

I looked again at the man in the picture, feeling an eerie sense of recognition.

"It's him," I said.

"Yes. We named him Angel. Your grandfather decided to adopt him."

He really did look familiar, but I couldn't pinpoint where or when I had seen him before.

"Where is he now?" I asked hesitantly.

Uncle's answer was short. "He's dead."

I looked at him in shock. "I… I…"

"More than twenty years ago."

He died before I was even born. That didn't make any sense. If he had died before my time, where and when had I seen him? I couldn't think of anyone else who looked like him.

Demon.