Revelation smiled softly as she wiped the tears from Genesis's face. She was boiling inside—not because she didn't understand why Genesis was crying, but because of the tears themselves. Tears falling from such innocent eyes stirred a quiet rage in her.
"You shouldn't cry. He's not worth it," she murmured, crouching down and pressing a gentle kiss to Genesis's cheekbone. But that only made more tears roll down.
"He doesn't deserve you. He was never a good person," she added, wiping at the fresh tears again. Genesis looked down, her hands wringing together in her lap. She didn't want to believe that.
Even though it was clear now—her husband had been with someone else—and it hurt deeply, she still clung to the belief that he wasn't bad. Imperfect, yes. But not a bad man. He had never hurt her… not physically.
"You've been abused for so long that you think the absence of bruises means love," Revelation said, her voice quiet but firm. "But it doesn't."
Then Revelation's eyes drifted to the collar around Genesis's neck. Her fury flared hotter. She rubbed her finger over the engraved inscription and nearly trembled.
"He treats you like property, like something to be owned. But you're not. You're a human being. He's no better than those monsters."
Genesis's eyes widened. She jumped off the bed, shaking her head violently. Even with tears streaking her cheeks, she managed to glare at Revelation fiercely.
No. No, she would not let Rev compare Kieran to Jimmy. Or Mark. Or even Monica. Never.
Revelation read the expression and stood slowly, realizing she had gone too far.
"Okay, you're right," she said, backing off. "He's better than them. Way better."
But the look of relief on Genesis's face only made Rev feel worse. It felt like Knight—no, not even Kieran, but Knight—had sunk his claws into her too deep, and she didn't know if they'd ever come out.
Still, what had she expected? Kieran was the first one to show Genesis… care.
But he's not what you think, Revelation thought. If Knight had never existed, maybe none of this would be necessary. But he did exist, and she couldn't leave Genesis in his grasp.
She stepped forward, softer now. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said he's like them. But you know he doesn't love you."
Her hand brushed the collar again. She wanted to rip it off and throw it into a fire. Genesis didn't stop her.
But the words kept echoing: You know he doesn't love you.
"Someone who loves you wouldn't treat you like you don't have a choice," Revelation whispered. "You're your own person. Not a possession."
Genesis looked up slowly, eyes searching.
"And he won't stop cheating. Trust me, I know the type. He's done things no one should do to someone they claim to love. You need to see that, my love."
Genesis lowered her gaze to the collar again. To her, it wasn't strange. She thought that was how love worked. That this was how a husband showed his care. It was confusing—everything Revelation was saying. Too much. Too fast.
"I want you to do something for me," Revelation said gently. "Because I can't stand seeing you like this. First, take off this collar. You're not an animal."
Genesis's eyes widened.
Rev moved behind her, inspecting the collar. Her jaw tightened when she saw the magnetic chip. "That son of a bitch," she muttered under her breath.
She fiddled with it, found the release, and with a soft click, the collar came free.
Genesis gasped. She collapsed to her knees, clutching her throat like something precious had been stolen. Her heart pounded wildly.
She didn't like it. She didn't want it gone.
"Shhh, it's okay. It's okay," Revelation soothed, pulling her into a hug. "You're blooming now. We're going to use him to take back everything that's yours—and then we're going to burn it all to the ground."
She tossed the collar across the room. It clattered and slid under the dresser.
"We'll get it all back, sweetheart. But you have to grow a backbone. Just like your—" She stopped herself. Her mouth snapped shut.
Genesis tossed and turned in bed. She couldn't sleep. Her breathing came in quick, ragged gasps as phantom arms wrapped around her throat. Dozens of faceless hands reached for her neck.
And then she heard it.
"Genesis," came a familiar voice. Kieran's voice. Her Kieran.
She tried to get up, to look for him, but the hands pulled her back down.
"Where is your collar?" another voice hissed.
She shook her head, panicking. The hands pressed harder.
Pressed.
Pressed.
She shot upright in bed, a cry caught in her throat. Her hand flew to her neck.
"No," she whispered.
Her eyes widened. She had spoken. Just one tiny word.
No.
She opened her mouth again, but this time, no sound came out. Just silence.
She blinked and shook her head, her fingers still gripping her throat.
It had to be in her head.
Didn't it?
She was just about to stand when the door flung open—and in stumbled a disheveled, bloodied Kieran.
Her heart leapt. For a moment, all she saw was the blood. She nearly rushed to him, thinking he was hurt. But then Revelation's words echoed in her mind: You need to stand up for yourself. He doesn't love you.
Her body froze. Instead of running to him, her fingers clutched the bedsheet so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Kieran didn't hesitate. He crossed the room in seconds, dropping to his knees in front of her. His hands cradled her face, his thumb brushing beneath her eyes as if to erase the pain.
He opened his mouth, ready to speak.
But she pushed his hand away.
Then she stood.
Kieran blinked, stunned. And then he saw it.
There was no collar around her neck.