Knight's eyes lingered on the hand gripping Genesis's forearm. Slowly, his gaze lifted to its owner. Jaden glared back at him, defiance burning in his eyes.
That only made Knight's lips curl into a cruel smile. As he studied Jaden, a dozen ways of breaking each bone in the boy's body flashed through his mind. He could almost hear Jaden's screams already, and the thought made the hunger for blood thrum inside him.
Genesis saw it, the way Knight looked at Jaden like a toy he couldn't wait to tear apart. Bile rose in her throat. She yanked her arm from Jaden's grasp and rushed to Knight's side, pressing her hand against his torso as if to anchor him.
But he didn't look at her. His focus never left Jaden.
Jaden stood his ground, still glaring daggers, and Knight took a slow step forward. Genesis shook her head, clutching his arm to hold him back, but his strength dragged her with him instead.
Across the hall, Stacy and Calista instinctively stepped back. Their exchanged glance screamed What the hell is going on?
"Kieran, let's go. I don't feel so good," Genesis whispered, tugging at him, desperate.
Knight only stopped when he was close enough that his chest nearly brushed Jaden's. Jaden straightened his spine, trying to look taller against Knight's towering six-foot-five frame, but he barely reached six feet.
Knight's smile widened, dark amusement dancing in his eyes. He leaned down and whispered something into Jaden's ear, words only for him.
No one knew what Knight said, but a second later Jaden swung.
Knight chuckled, ducking easily, and Jaden's fist slammed into the wall instead. A rusty nail jutted out, tearing through his skin. Jaden's cry of pain echoed down the hall as blood splattered against the wood.
Genesis's eyes went wide. She lurched forward, but Knight caught her wrist and yanked her back, dragging her toward the exit.
"Kieran, what have you done? He's just a kid!" Her voice cracked as she clasped her hand over her mouth, the sound of Jaden's ragged screams following them.
Knight pushed open the door, pulling her outside as it shut behind them.
Inside, students who had been chatting near the entrance rushed in after hearing the cries.
"Isn't that Jaden's voice?" Sofia whispered. Melanie's gaze flicked toward the door where Genesis had just walked out next to Knight, her wide eyes and trembling hand pressed over her lips.
"What's going on in there?" Maya asked, starting for the studio door—but two large men stepped in front of them. Knight's men.
The girls froze.
"Mr. Blackwood would like to have a word with the three of you," one of the men said flatly.
"Huh?"
"What?"
Maya and Sofia blurted at the same time. Melanie frowned, her confusion mixing with dread—because deep down, she already had a sick idea of what this was about.
She shook her head quickly. "We have somewhere to be…"
The Limo rolled up behind them. The door opened, and there was Knight inside, seated comfortably, a polite smile playing on his lips.
"Come in, ladies. I'll drop you off."
Maya and Sofia both shook their heads frantically. "N-no, thank you, sir. We have to…"
Knight's smile didn't falter, but his voice dipped lower, colder. "Don't make me repeat myself."
That was scarier than if he'd shouted.
The girls exchanged a terrified glance and nodded. Their eyes flickered to Genesis in the car—her face pressed against the window, hard to read.
Reluctantly, the three of them climbed inside. The door shut with a heavy click, sealing them in. They squeezed together on the seat opposite Knight and Genesis.
Knight poured himself a glass of champagne, swirling it lazily. "Will you ladies have a drink?"
Maya and Sofia shook their heads quickly. Genesis didn't even turn—her gaze stayed fixed outside the window, as if they weren't there.
"N-no," Maya stammered.
Sofia echoed softly, "No."
Melanie said nothing.
Knight sipped his drink, then leaned back. His eyes glittered. "How old are you?" he asked calmly. Too calmly.
The question sent a chill crawling down their spines.
"I-I'm eighteen," Maya whispered, hands clenched in her lap.
"Nineteen," Sofia muttered.
Then his gaze landed on Melanie. She stared right back, refusing to answer, even as fear knotted in her stomach.
"Why do you care?" she snapped. "Why are we even here? You know this is a human rights violation."
Knight twirled his glass, still smiling. "Human rights violation?" he echoed softly.
"And what violation, exactly, have I committed, little girl?"
Melanie's nails dug into her palm. "F…forcing us into this car."
"Force? I don't remember using any physical force on you, or even threatening you," Knight said, his voice smooth, almost casual, as if he were discussing tea preferences. "But let's get something straight. I know everything about you, Melanie Hawthorne. Every little detail you thought stayed hidden."
He leaned back slightly, eyes glinting like black ice. "Twenty years old. Birthday June 4th, Saint Claire Hospital. You live at 42 Whitmore Drive with your mother, she's a yoga instructor. Father passed when you were fifteen, drowning accident, yes? I saw the police report. You worked two summers at the café on the corner, cash tips, mostly. You cheated on your first boyfriend, twice, and you, oh, yes, you sent pictures. Very revealing pictures. Not smart, considering who you were with."
Melanie froze, her friends' jaws dropping, staring at her in horror.
Knight's smile didn't leave his face as the limousine hummed through the dark. He tipped his glass, watching the bubbles climb, his voice soft and casual as if they were discussing the weather.
"You're eighteen, Maya Rodriguez. Full name, correct?" He pronounced it like a verdict. "You live at 14 Harlow Lane with your mother, who cleans at Saint Agnes. You were two months from losing the dance scholarship because of your attendance. You sold your father's watch last year when rent was due, cash landed in a poker app. Nice try hiding that."
Maya's hand flew to her mouth. Sofia's eyes widened until the whites showed. Melanie's face went white.
"And you," Knight continued, shifting his gaze to Sofia, "Sofia Alvarez. Nineteen. You don't hide your rule-breaking — you slept with the instructor in this very studio, didn't you? Pictures, messages, favors traded for roles — everything leaves a trace. Your parents don't know; your little secret's been forwarded around more times than you think."
Melanie's lips trembled. "How, how do you know any of that?" she stammered, voice small.
Knight tilted his head, calm as if he were explaining the weather. "Because nothing leaves a trace that I cannot follow. Everything online, offline, in whispers, in shadows—it all leads to me. And right now, you three are the only ones who violated anyone's rights."
His tone darkened. "You bullied my wife. Humiliated her. Spread her fear. And now," he paused, leaning forward, letting the limo's dim light catch his face, "I hear there's a certain video you with. One that shouldn't exist. I want it deleted. Now. Hand me your phones."
Maya and Sofia, shaking, obeyed immediately, passing over their devices. Melanie hesitated, lips trembling, but Genesis, sitting silently beside Knight, leaned forward and whispered firmly, "Do as he says, Melanie. Now."
Melanie lips wobbled, tears rushing to the back of her eyes but she handed the phone over.
Knight pushed the three phones into his palm and let them sit there like a judge weighing evidence. He didn't look at them. He looked at the girls.
"You won't see these again," he said, voice flat."
"Bur firstly remove every password. Now. And don't think about hiding copies. I will find them."
Maya and Sofia fumbled, hands shaking, thumbs already opening settings, swiping, tapping like terrified children. Melanie's fingers hovered, worthless in the air; Knight didn't move. He just watched, slow, patient, hungry.
"Every fuckin password,"
They obeyed. Each girl's screen flashed settings, passwords removed. Knight's eyes tracked every movement. When they finished, he took the phones, one by one, and kept them by his side.
"And yes," he said. "Never talk to her again, don't even look at her. You're done with my wife. Understood?"
They nodded, faces slack with fear.
"And one more thing." He lowered his voice. "Apologize."
The three girls glanced at each other, then at Genesis. They tried to compose themselves; their bravado had evaporated in the car's dim light. Sofia's voice came first, shredded. "G..Genesis, I'm— I'm sorry. I didn't— I didn't—"
"Say it properly," Knight prompted. His hand flexed on the armrest like a coiled thing.
They swallowed and then, clumsy and loud with shame, each of them repeated the words Genesis had earned a thousand times over: apologies, promises, desperate pleas—not to be hurt, not to be found out, not to be ruined.
Genesis's face was neutral, but something like cold satisfaction softened her mouth. "You don't have to kneel," she said quietly, meeting each of their eyes. "Just leave me alone. Live your lives somewhere else."
Knight's head snapped to her, fast and raw. A low rumble rose in his throat, half animal, half command.
"Get on your knees," he said.
They did. They went down like the last props in a play whose script had just been ripped up. Tears fell ugly, fast. Begging sounded small and hollow.
Genesis's hand tightened slightly in her lap. "There's… no need," she began, but Knight's growl cut across her.
"Sit," he ordered after a moment, softer but final. "And know this: one move, one stupid post, one copy saved, one whisper and the next clip will have your face all over it. I'll make sure everyone on that web sees all of you in positions where your little minds can't begin to imagine." He tipped his glass. "You want to keep living? Then keep your mouths shut and yourself clean."
The limo eased to a stop. Knight opened the door. They stumbled out into the night, small, muttering, broken in ways that would echo. The car pulled away, the taillights a red blink dissolving into the street.
Genesis watched them go. The city noise rose up around the limousine's retreat: horns, footsteps, distant laughter—life going on as if nothing had happened.
She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
Knight's hand found hers across the seat. He squeezed once, a possessive, private claim and didn't let go.
"Good," she said, voice steady, low. "Don't let them come near me."
He turned his head, and for the briefest second the mania in his eyes calmed into something nearly tender. "They'll remember your name," he said. "And they'll remember who protects you."
Genesis leaned back, staring out at the city. The car hummed along. Her voice came softer, close to a promise but sharp as steel. "Then let them remember."