GENESIS

The pen slipped in my sweaty hand as I signed the paper.

That was it. I was married to a man who hadn’t even looked at me twice.

Kier Blackwood stood beside me like he was waiting for a meeting to end. He was late, distant, and clearly disgusted to be here. When his eyes did meet mine, it wasn’t hate I saw. It was something colder, disappointment. Like he’d ordered gold and got dust instead.

The judge’s words blurred. I just stared at the rings, the papers, my trembling hands. Everything inside me screamed that this wasn’t real.

But it was.

I caught sight of Monica standing at the back of the courtroom, her lips twisted in fury. Jimmy and Mark beside her, arms folded, watching like they were witnessing my punishment.

Her words from last night flashed through my head her voice sharp as broken glass:

“How dare he think he can waltz back into your life?”

The slap. The flying vase. The sting still burned on my cheek.

Now here I was, wearing a ring instead of a bruise. Bound to a man I didn’t even know.

Kier’s father, Donald, stood near the exit, his face unreadable. But for a second, I saw it, guilt. His eyes softened, like he knew he’d just ruined two lives.

Then Kier turned and walked out. No goodbye, no glance. Just gone.

Outside, I trailed behind him to a sleek black car. He opened the passenger door without a word. The gesture was polite, but cold, like a stranger holding a door out of habit.

I climbed in, my stomach twisting. The silence between us was a storm waiting to break.

His hand tightened on the steering wheel, jaw clenched. Then suddenly, he lifted a hand and I flinched, ducking fast, covering my head.

“Yo…what the hell? I’m not gonna touch you,” he said, voice sharp but shocked.

I froze, still half-curled in defense. My breath came out shaky.

“Breathe,” he said softer. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

I lowered my arm slowly, face burning. Shame prickled under my skin.

He sighed, tapping the wheel. “Look, I don’t know if this whole thing shocked you as much as it did me, but it’s not gonna last. We just… need to give my dad his heir, then we go our separate ways.”

I nodded too quickly, clutching my dress like a lifeline.

He frowned, muttering, “Getting that heir’s gonna be harder than I thought.”

The words hit harder than the slap last night. My chest tightened, and my eyes dropped to my thin hands, to the dull strands of hair in my lap.

If I were him, I wouldn’t want me either.

Maybe if I told him to turn off the lights… it’d be easier for both of us.

KIER

Three days later — Family Estate Mansion

“Y–Young Master,” Richard called out just as I was about to step into my car.

I paused, hand on the door handle, jaw tightening. Not this again.

I turned slowly. “What is it, Richard?”

He fidgeted, eyes darting like he was searching for the right words. “It’s about your wife, sir.”

My patience was already thinning. “What about her?”

“She hasn’t left her room since she arrived,” he said, voice low. “Barely eats. Doesn’t talk. The maids are... worried.”

I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair. “She can’t talk, remember? And if she’s eating, even a little, she’s fine. Let her sulk.”

“Young Master, it’s been three days,” he said, almost pleading. “She doesn’t even open the curtains. She also doesn't…”

I opened the car door with a sharp click. “That’s her problem, not mine.”

Richard flinched at the sound, his mouth pressing into a thin line. I ignored him and slid behind the wheel. This whole marriage was a mess I never asked for, a contract signed in my father’s study, not at an altar.

Now I had to run his empire too, pretend to be the perfect son, the perfect husband.

The drive to work was short, but every minute felt like a slow grind against my nerves. By the time I pulled into the company’s lot, I was already tired.

Employees lined up at the entrance, bowing slightly as if I were some prince. I didn’t even glance at them. Inside, my father stood waiting, his hands behind his back, gaze as cold as ever.

“You’re on time,” he said without looking at me.

“Barely,” I muttered.

He started his speech before we even reached the elevator, numbers, reports, expectations. The boardroom was full of stiff suits and empty words. I sat there, nodding when necessary, pretending to care.

But my thoughts kept drifting back to the mansion.

Why was she doing this? Was it fear? Spite? Or just her way of making me feel guilty? I didn’t even remember her name without checking the damn marriage certificate.

Still, something about the thought of her locked away in silence made my chest tighten, a feeling I didn’t want to name.

“Kier,” my father snapped suddenly, pulling me out of my head. “Are you listening?”

“Yes,” I lied, straightening in my seat.

“Good. Because you’ll be handling tomorrow’s investor meeting.”

“Fine,” I said, though I barely heard him. I just wanted the day to end.

By the time I left the office, dusk had swallowed the city. The ride home was quiet, but my head wasn’t. The echo of Richard’s voice lingered.

When I pulled up to the mansion, he was there again, standing by the door like he’d been waiting all day. His face said it all before he spoke.

“She still hasn’t come out,” he said quietly.

Something in me shifted, not pity, not worry, just an uneasy feeling crawling up my spine.

I dropped my keys on the table and headed upstairs. The air in the hallway felt heavy, still. Even the servants’ whispers had stopped.

I stopped at her door. Knocked once. “It’s Kier. Open up.”

Silence.

I knocked harder. “If you’re going to hide, at least eat properly. You’re not a ghost yet.”

Still nothing.

My irritation flared. I grabbed the knob and twisted. The door swung open without resistance.

That’s when I smelled it, faint at first, then thick and sour, like something rotting beneath perfume.

My stomach clenched.

“What the hell…” I muttered, flicking on the light.

And then I froze.

GENESIS

Three days.

Three endless, suffocating days inside this cold mansion.

It was too quiet here. Too clean. Too perfect.

No Monica. No Mark. No Jimmy. No yelling. No fists. Just silence, sharp enough to cut through my skin.

I thought silence would feel safe. It didn’t. It felt like punishment.

When I first arrived, I waited for rules. Someone to tell me what to do, how to breathe, how to exist. But no one did. They just left food, plates piled high with soft bread, meat glistening under strange sauces, and fruit that smelled too sweet. I stared at them until they went cold.

I wasn’t supposed to eat like this. Monica’s voice still hissed in my head: “Filthy things like you don’t deserve good food.”

So I ate only enough not to faint. My stomach twisted and begged, but I couldn’t. What if it was a test? What if touching the wrong thing meant punishment?

The bathroom was worse. It was bigger than my old room. White tiles, mirrors, lights. I hadn’t dared step inside. I didn’t deserve it. I slept on the floor, wrapped in a bedspread I’d soiled.

The smell was unbearable now, sweat, urine, fear, but no one yelled. No one beat me. That silence pressed down on me harder than any hand ever had.

I wanted to ask someone, “What are the rules here?” but that was not possible . So I waited. Curled up on the cold floor. Waiting for something to break.

Then the door creaked open.

Light spilled into the room. My eyes snapped shut. Maybe if I stayed still, they’d think I was asleep.

A voice cut through the silence, deep, sharp, disbelieving.

“What the fuck.”

My chest seized. Him. My husband.

My body went rigid. I didn’t breathe. That tone, I knew what came next. Words like that always came before pain.

I cracked my eyes open just enough to see him standing there. Tall. Still. His face a storm of confusion and anger as his gaze swept across the room, the untouched food, the filthy sheets, and me, crouched in the corner like a broken thing.

He stepped closer, slow and deliberate. My heart hammered so hard I thought I might throw up.

“What the hell is going on here?” His voice was lower now, rough, like he didn’t trust himself.

I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t even look up.

Then I felt him kneel beside me. The air shifted. Warm. Heavy. Close.

“Hey.” His tone softened. “Look at me.”

I couldn’t.

“Genesis,” he said again, and my name sounded different in his mouth—less like a command, more like a question.

I turned my head, just enough to see his shoes. My body trembled.

He didn’t speak for a long time. When he did, his voice cracked. “What the hell happened to you?”

The words made my throat ache. I didn’t know if he was angry, disgusted, or—worse—pitying me.

Then his hand moved, and I flinched, curling back instinctively. But there was no blow. Only a long exhale and the sound of his voice, rough and tired.

“Richard!”

I jumped.

Richard appeared in seconds, pale and breathless. “Y–Yes, Young Master?”

“Get this room cleaned up,” Kier barked. “Now. Clothes, food. Something fresh. And hurry.”

Richard hesitated, startled.

“Now!” Kier snapped, voice echoing through the room.

When the butler scurried off, Kier turned back to me. I stared at my hands, fighting tears.

“Come with me,” he said.

I froze. My lungs burned. This is it, I thought. He’s going to hurt me.

But I stood anyway. Because obeying was safer.

He led me to the bathroom and opened the door. “Go in.”

I obeyed. The floor was spotless. The air smelled like soap. I didn’t belong here.

“Take a shower,” he said.

My hands shook. Was it a trick? I hesitated, then began to undress—slow, careful, like I’d done something wrong. When I looked up, he was already turned away, muttering under his breath, “When the hell did you undress so fast?”

Shame burned through me. I knew he’d seen the scars.

He dragged a hand down his face, voice lower now. “Step into the shower. Go on.”

I moved toward the glass stall, confused by all the buttons. At Monica’s, there’d been only a bucket. I pressed one at random.

Scalding water shot out, blasting my skin. I gasped silently, stumbling backward—straight into his chest.

He caught me instantly. His arms tightened, steadying me.

“What happened?” he asked, voice sharp with alarm, not anger.

I trembled, unable to speak.

He guided me gently back to the stall. “Easy. It’s okay. Just water. I’ll help you.”

No one had ever said that to me before.

And that was the moment the walls inside me began to crack.