The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Jason POV:

Even though I felt like absolute shit thanks to this stupid hangover, it didn’t mean I was blind.

Yeah, and that disgusting concoction Ella had forced me to drink earlier?

Didn’t do a damn thing.

I still felt like death warmed over.

But even in my miserable, post-whiskey state, I could see what was happening—Jake’s little game.

That bastard was getting too close to my wife.

Too friendly.

Too charming.

Too smug.

And Ella?

The ignorant, oblivious woman had no clue.

From where I was seated, any wrong camera angle would make it look like they were flirting—or worse.

And considering the swarm of paparazzi buzzing around, the last thing she needed was a media scandal.

So, despite feeling like I’d been hit by a truck, I forced myself up from my seat, swallowed down my headache, and marched over to them like a man on a mission.

I didn’t hesitate.

I didn’t wait.

I just grabbed Ella by the waist, pulling her against me like she was mine.

(Which she was. Technically. Contractually. Legally. Still counts.)

She stiffened, obviously startled by the sudden contact.

But she couldn’t push me off.

Not here.

Not in front of everyone.

She knew the rules of high society games.

"Careful, Jake," I said smoothly, tightening my grip on my wife. "People might start to think you’re trying to charm her."

Jake’s smug expression flickered—just for a second.

Oh, yeah.

He knew exactly what I was implying.

"Jason." He smiled, but his eyes weren’t so friendly anymore. "We were just having a friendly business conversation."

I let out a low chuckle.

"Sure," I said, mockingly. "But you know, I was starting to miss my wife, and I got a little... jealous when I saw how close you were standing next to her."

Ella’s head snapped up so fast she almost broke her own neck.

I ignored her.

"So, I’d request you to keep a little distance." I added, my voice calm, but firm.

I didn’t wait for a response.

Instead, I turned to Ella, who was looking at me like I’d just grown two heads.

"Excuse us, I need to talk to my wife." I said smoothly, stressing the word ’wife.’

Then, before she could say anything, I escorted my confused, glaring wife back to our table.

Ella POV:

What. The. Actual. Hell.

I barely had time to process what just happened.

One second, I was talking business.

The next, Jason had wrapped his arm around me, announced his jealousy, and dragged me away like I was his damn property.

I blinked.

What the hell just happened?

I turned to Jason, still completely baffled.

"Did you just—"

"Yes."

"You—"

"Also yes."

I narrowed my eyes.

"Jason. King. What the hell was that?"

He leaned back in his chair, completely unbothered.

"Saving you."

I let out a humorless laugh.

"Saving me?" I repeated. "From what?"

Jason shot me a look.

"From Jake’s filthy hands, obviously."

I crossed my arms.

"You do realize we were just talking?"

Jason snorted.

"Please. That man wasn’t just talking."

I rolled my eyes.

"You’re being ridiculous."

Jason just smirked.

"And yet, here you are, sitting next to me instead of him."

I opened my mouth—then closed it.

Damn him.

Alright. Fine.

Maybe Jason wasn’t completely wrong.

Being seen too close with Jake could be misinterpreted.

And with the way people loved gossip, it wouldn’t take long before some idiotic headline popped up, saying:

"Kingsley Heiress Seduces Black Enterprise CEO—Did She Sleep Her Way to the Top?"

Ugh. Gross.

I could already hear my father yelling about how I was tarnishing the Kingsley name.

But did that mean Jason had the right to swoop in like some overprotective, jealous husband and drag me away like I was a misbehaving child?

Hell. No.

Jason might have technically saved me from a PR disaster, but the way he did it?

Unforgivable.

Jason POV:

Ella was furious.

I could feel her glaring daggers at me.

Did I care?

Nope.

Because Jake?

He looked pissed.

Which meant I’d won.

At least, for now.

But knowing Ella?

She wasn’t going to let this go.

And something told me payback was coming.

Shit.

So, I was sitting here, continuing to nursing my stupid hangover, while Ella sat across from me, arms crossed, glaring daggers at me like I personally offended her entire bloodline.

Why was she mad?

Who the hell knows?

Maybe because I ruined her little moment with Jake.

Maybe because I looked like shit after that horrible "hangover cure" she made me drink this morning.

Or maybe just because she was Ella, and being mad at me was her full-time job.

Either way, I was exhausted, my head was pounding, and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep for a week.

But, of course, the show must go on.

Because just when I thought I could finally catch a break, a smiling reporter came waltzing over.

"Mr. and Mrs. King, can we get a kissing photo?"

Excuse me?

I blinked at him.

Did I mishear?

A what photo?

I glanced at Ella.

She looked horrified.

Her mouth had already opened, ready to protest.

And in that moment, I saw an opportunity.

1. Payback for that disgusting hangover concoction.

2. Piss off Jake, who was undoubtedly watching.

3. Bonus point: Kiss my wife.

Yep.

Two birds, one stone... and a jackpot.

So before Ella could argue, I grabbed her by the waist and yanked her against me.

And then—

I kissed her.

And no, not one of those peck-on-the-lips, fake-marriage, ’we’re only doing this for PR’ kisses.

Nope.

I went all in.

Ella POV:

The absolute audacity of this man.

One second, I was about to refuse that ridiculous request.

And the next?

Jason was kissing me.

Not a quick kiss.

Not a PR-friendly kiss.

But a real, possessive, mind-numbing, toe-curling kiss.

Right there.

In front of the press.

In front of Jake.

And worst of all?

In front of my father.

I could practically hear the headlines writing themselves:

"Kingsley Heiress and King CEO—A Love That Burns Bright!"

"Public Display of Affection: The Kings Are More in Love Than Ever!"

"Jealousy Much? Jason King Stakes His Claim on His Wife!"

Oh, I was going to murder him.

After what felt like forever I pulled away eyes burning with rage.

Jason just smirked.

That cocky, smug, infuriating smirk.

The same one that said: "Yeah, I did that. What are you gonna do about it?"

I had an answer to that.

Kill him.

Right here.

At this very moment.

And if I got arrested?

So be it.

Jason POV:

The look on Ella’s face?

Priceless.

Jake’s pissed-off expression?

Even better. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

I could practically see the veins popping out of his forehead.

He was seething.

Mission? Accomplished.

Ella, however, looked like she was debating between stabbing me in the heart or strangling me.

And honestly?

I wouldn’t put it past her.

"Jason," she said, voice dangerously low.

I grinned.

"Yes, dear?"

"You are so dead."

Was it bad that I kinda liked how mad she was?

Maybe.

But was it worth it?

Absolutely.