Genesis paused, her brow arching before she turned toward the source of the voice. A flicker of surprise crossed her face, but it vanished so quickly—like the blink of an eye—that if you weren't looking closely, you'd have missed it. The truth was, Genesis had almost forgotten about Amelia during those weeks at the academy. And now, hearing her voice—not ajust words, but her voice—it reminded Genesis that not everything about this place she had returned to was perfect.
Knight stepped forward, ready to speak, but Genesis caught his wrist lightly. A small smile touched her lips as their eyes met, a silent exchange passing between them. Knight nodded once, satisfied, though he didn't say a word.
Genesis moved forward, closing the distance until she stood directly before Amelia, though she left a small gap of space between them. Amelia's expression shifted, guarded now, as she took in the woman standing in front of her. Genesis looked different—not so much physically, though Amelia noted the faint bruises fading across her face. No, it was deeper than that. She didn't carry herself like the quiet, timid girl who had once been broken and mute. She stood tall now, steady, comfortable in her own skin… ready for anything.
"It's nice to see you again, Amelia," Genesis said. The words flowed smoothly, her voice rough around the edges but clear, steady, whole.
Amelia stayed silent. Inside, her thoughts burned—how could she believe Genesis meant that after everything? After trying to destroy her home? After what she was still doing? During those weeks Genesis was gone, Amelia had tried and failed to draw close to Knight. But Knight, arrogant as ever, never gave her more than a passing glance. Each morning she had taken over the kitchen, shoving Eliana out to make him breakfast, but he ignored her entirely.
Amelia's lips twitched, as if she were searching for the right words. But before she could, Genesis tilted her head, her faint smile unreadable.
"It's… truly nice to see you again," she said softly. Yet this time there was a sharpness beneath the words, a rasp that made Amelia's stomach twist. "You've been… keeping busy, I hear."
Amelia stiffened. Genesis hadn't been told anything, but she knew. She knew Amelia would try something while she was gone. And though the thought had haunted her in the academy—that Knight might yield to Amelia's games—she had pushed it away. She trusted her husband.
Behind Genesis, Knight shifted. His hand slid across the small of her back, resting at her waist in a gesture that was instinctively possessive, a wordless declaration. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—steel-blue and unyielding—were locked only on Genesis.
Never on Amelia.
Amelia's chest burned. She had spent weeks flaunting herself before him, gliding through the halls in silks that clung to her swelling belly, lowering her neckline further each day, laughing too loudly whenever he passed. But Knight…
He hadn't cared. Not once.
Every morning she had staged herself in his path, praying for even the smallest flicker of interest. But he never looked. He brushed past her as if she were smoke, his words sharp and clipped: "Move." "Out of my way." "You're blocking the hall."
Once, she had cooked breakfast in lace, waiting for him to notice. He walked in, glanced once, and ordered Eliana to throw it all out. "She doesn't touch my table," he'd said, voice cold as death.
Daisy had snickered into her juice. Eliana had chuckled as she tossed the food into the trash. Even the angels whispered behind their hands, mocking Amelia's failed attempts.
And through it all… Knight's eyes had belonged to one person.
His princess.
Even when Genesis wasn't there, she was the only one in his mind. His silence toward Amelia had never been indifference. It was loyalty. Devotion.
Now, standing before Genesis again, his gaze burned with something Amelia had never received from him—something that made her insides knot with envy.
Obsession. Possession. Love so fierce it was madness.
Genesis stepped closer, erasing the small space between her and Amelia. Their eyes locked, sharp and unyielding.
"You thought I wouldn't come back," Genesis said, her voice raspy but steady, every word slicing through the silence. "That I'd stay gone. That maybe… you could take my place." Her head tilted, her smile curving just enough to sting. "But you were wrong."
Amelia flinched.
Genesis's eyes, once soft and timid, now burned with quiet fire. "This is my home. My family. My husband. You don't belong here, Amelia. You never did."
The air thickened. Daisy gasped, the sound sharp in the stillness, while Eliana's lips curled in open satisfaction.
Then Knight spoke, at last—his voice a low growl, dangerous and cold, sliding over Amelia's skin like a blade.
"She's being kind," he said, his gaze never straying from Genesis. "If it were me talking… I'd remind you what happens to women who try to crawl into my bed uninvited."
Amelia's face drained of color, her hands trembling at her sides.
Genesis smiled again—soft, devastating, final. "Careful, Amelia. The mute girl you mocked?" She leaned in, her whisper a breath against Amelia's ear. "She's gone. I found my voice… and I won't waste it on you."
Before Amelia could reply, another voice filled the air.
"The Light of the house."
Genesis froze. Her smile grew, her eyes widening as her gaze slid past Amelia like she was nothing—already forgotten. She knew that voice. Only one person had ever called her that.
At the bottom of the stairs stood Donald Blackwood. His presence filled the room, his smile deep as his eyes fixed on her. Genesis's breath hitched, and without thinking, she rushed toward him.
"Father," she whispered as she reached him, throwing her arms around him. Her voice trembled with something fierce and tender.
Donald's arms closed around her, his face alight with pride and joy at the sound of her voice.
In that moment, he knew Anthony Caldwell would have been proud—proud beyond words—of his daughter.