GENESIS
My heart pounded so hard I swore it wanted to break free of my chest. I stared at Jaden's hand for a moment, unwilling to place mine on his. My eyes darted around the room, searching—no, my body searching—for someone. And I knew exactly who.
The piano swelled, its opening notes floating through the studio like silk. I had no choice. Slowly, hesitantly, I placed my trembling hand in Jaden's.
His fingers closed around mine, warm and firm. Suddenly, we were moving.
The instructor's voice cut sharp through the music. "First position. Partnering—support her port de bras. Genesis, open. Jaden, sustain her line."
Jaden shifted closer, his palm brushing down to the curve of my waist, steadying me as I lifted my arms. His touch made my pulse trip. His breath grazed the shell of my ear as he bent closer, pretending to adjust his hold.
"Where have you been?" His whisper was low, hot.
I kept my face forward, forcing my arm through the movement. "Focus," I rasped under my breath, too quiet for him to hear.
"You read my texts." His voice pressed harder, though still soft enough for only me. "But you never replied. Not once."
The instructor clapped once. "Good. Now promenade, slowly."
Jaden's hand slid firmly around my waist, guiding me as I pivoted into arabesque. The world spun in a controlled circle, my balance entirely in his grip. His hold was steady, strong—despite his focus being anywhere but the choreography.
"You ignored me," he murmured, his mouth so close it brushed a loose lock of my hair. "Why?"
My throat tightened. I tried to steady my breathing, tried not to falter. "Jaden, stop."
And then—my mistake. I said it out loud.
His steps faltered. His hands trembled. For a split second the floor tilted under me as he nearly lost hold of my weight. Gasps rose from the girls.
"Careful!" the advanced instructor snapped. "Precision! Control!"
Jaden's jaw clenched as he steadied me again, his arm tightening around my waist. His eyes widened, stunned, as though the sound of my voice had struck him harder than any blow.
"You can talk…" he breathed, almost forgetting the steps, his hand pressing too firmly against my ribs.
"Jaden!" the instructor barked. "Focus! Support her in the lift."
He snapped back, crouching, hands firm on my waist. Before I could prepare, he lifted me high into arabesque, my body weightless above him. The studio lights caught my skin, and for a heartbeat, it felt like we were alone—his hands anchoring me, his stare devouring.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered again as he lowered me carefully back, his chest brushing mine.
I swallowed hard, stepping into the next move, my palm sliding down his arm as choreography demanded. "Because…" my voice cracked, raspy but clear, "…it wasn't yours to know."
His eyes darkened, burning.
The instructors clapped. "Again! Cleaner this time. Genesis, trust his grip. Jaden, don't lose focus."
We reset. His hand returned to my waist—hot, insistent. The music swelled once more.
And with every breath, every step, every dangerous touch, my body screamed one truth.
If Knight ever saw this…
The studio would become a battlefield.
---
Break
"Take five minutes," Miss Reneta called. Relief surged through me like air after drowning. I pulled away from Jaden—his hand lingering at my waist, reluctant—before slipping free.
I didn't wait. I fled.
The restroom door slammed shut behind me. I rushed to the sink, twisted the tap, and splashed cold water over my face.
When I finally looked up, the mirror showed flushed pink skin, breath ragged, but no bruises anymore to betray me. My hand braced on the porcelain, trembling.
I couldn't keep avoiding Jaden. I needed to set things straight. It wasn't only his fault. I had let him kiss me, let his hands linger on my lips, and I had done nothing to stop him. That silence must have made him think something else could happen.
"You need to fix this, Genesis," I whispered to myself. "That kid might get himself killed."
Jaden was only nineteen. A kid. And if Knight ever found out what he was trying—Knight wouldn't hesitate.
As if summoned, a door creaked open. Chatter spilled into the restroom. My stomach dropped.
I turned—and instantly regretted it.
"Ouuu, look what we have here," Melanie's shrill voice cut through the room. "If it isn't our mute ballerina."
I sighed, rolling my eyes before turning back to the mirror. Not today.
I started toward the door, but Melanie stepped forward, blocking my path.
Of course. Always the restroom. Always the confrontation.
"Going somewhere so fast? Don't run off," she sneered. "We have a surprise for you." Her smile was sharp, witchy. Maya and Sophia mirrored it.
"Excuse me. I'm… not interested." My mutter slipped out. Their eyes widened.
Sophia's voice sliced through the room. "Ahhh, so the mute slut can talk now."
I froze.
Her words echoed off the tiles, poison curling in the air.
Their grins widened like blades. Melanie leaned forward, glossy lips curling. "So the mute slut isn't mute anymore, huh? Figures. Probably faking it just for attention."
Maya snorted. "Or maybe she finally opened her mouth for Kieran. Or the Father. Isn't that what you do, Genesis? Spread your legs for your 'guardian' like the little whore you are?"
Their laughter stabbed sharp and cruel.
My jaw clenched. My voice came out calm, steady. "Move."
Melanie blinked, stunned I'd dared. "Excuse me?"
"I said…" my eyes locked on hers, cold and unblinking, "…move."
The bathroom stilled, only the sink dripping into silence. Then Melanie's smirk shattered into something uglier. "You little bitch."
Her hands shoved me hard against the sink. The impact rattled through my ribs.
Slowly, I straightened. My breath came low, measured. My eyes burned into hers.
"Never," I said softly, "lay a hand on me again."
Melanie laughed, sharp and cruel. "Or what? What are you gonna do, slut?"
I stepped aside, trying to pass. Her hand shot up, ready to slap.
It never landed.
In one motion, I caught her wrist, twisted hard, and snapped her arm behind her back. She yelped as I shoved her away, sending her sprawling across the floor like a ragdoll.
Gasps echoed. Maya and Sophia's eyes went wide.
"You bitch!" Sophia screeched, lunging.
They all came at once.
But I was faster.
Sophia's hand swung toward my face—I ducked, drove my palm into her stomach, and sent her crashing into a stall door. Maya tried grabbing my hair, but I spun, catching her arm and yanking her forward, flipping her over my hip so she hit the tiles hard.
Melanie scrambled back to her feet, fury blazing. "You'll regret that!"
I stood, my chest rising and falling with calm, predatory rhythm. "Then come find out."
The three of them circled, bruised pride stoking their fire, but none dared rush me again.
Instead, Maya smirked suddenly. Her hand slipped into her pocket. She pulled out her phone, tapped the screen, and lifted it for me to see.
A video began to play.
The sound hit me first. That voice. My blood ran cold.
My eyes widened as the grainy footage filled the screen. I knew this video. I remembered that day, that humiliation.
Maya's smirk widened as she stepped closer, holding the phone just inches from my face. "Touch us again," she purred, "and this little gem? It'll find itself all over the world."
The video's sound echoed in my ears. My pulse thundered. My stomach dropped.
It was her. Veronica.