Chapter 207 The Boy and the Beast
“Ahhh—uhhh,” Genesis’s moans filled the air, her hand pressed against the glass window before sliding up to clutch Knight’s shoulders, trying to steady herself with each deep thrust. Her mouth fell open in a gasped cry.
“Ahh—yes, yes,” she breathed out, her nails digging into his shoulders. Knight stared at her, his blue eyes dark under the dim light of the office, tears still gliding down his face. Her words from earlier echoed in his head.
THWACK.
THWOP.
The rapid, wet sounds of his hips meeting hers filled the quiet, empty room.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured against her neck, his thrusts not slowing. Genesis looked down at him, her grip on his body tightening.
“Faster—p-please, faster,” she whimpered.
He pulled away, sliding out of her with a wet pop. Her slickness dripped down and hit the tiled floor. She groaned at the sudden emptiness, but before she could speak, he turned her around and guided her to face the window.
“Hands there,” he said softly.
She obeyed, palms pressed to the glass, her back arching, her body trembling. The glow of the city lights painted her skin, reflections dancing across the window as Knight stood behind her, momentarily frozen—just watching. The sight of her made his chest ache; in that moment, he worshipped her.
She turned her head slightly, their eyes meeting in the reflection.
“You’re not a toy,” he said quietly, his fingers tracing her damp spine. She bit her lip, eyes glistening but silent.
“You’re not a foot mat.”
He leaned closer. “You’re not alone. You’re my wife.”
The last word broke her. A sob escaped her lips as tears rolled down her cheeks, her reflection blurring in the glass.
“I know what I’ve done is unforgivable,” he said, voice cracking, “but please—please forgive me.” He pressed a trembling kiss to her back, his tears falling onto her skin. His chest pressed against her, his heartbeat pounding wildly against her spine.
“You’re more than my wife,” he whispered. “You’re the other half of my heart. And I’m scared… nothing’s going right. I’m stuck.”
His voice trembled, heavy with years of bottled pain. Genesis listened quietly. She had never seen this side of him before
but now she could see the wounded boy behind his calm façade.
He never talked about his past, never let her in. She understood that kind of silence—her own childhood after her father’s death had been a nightmare. Now, she could see it clearly: his father’s illness had dragged all his buried fears back to the surface.
Turning to face him, she placed her hand on his chest, feeling his frantic heartbeat beneath her palm. Her voice came out soft but shaking, anger slowly giving way to tired ache.
“You keep saying you love me,” she whispered. “But you never let me see you, Kieran. You hide behind your silence, behind work, behind that wall you built—so no one can reach you. Not even me.”
He dropped his gaze, his jaw tightening.
She shook her head, fingers curling into his shirt. “Tell me what’s happening. Stop hiding from me. Since the day we got married, I can’t name two things you’ve told me about yourself. You don’t talk, you just disappear into your office and pretend everything’s fine.”
“Genesis…” he said softly, but she cut him off.
“No. No more half-truths. No more pretending I can’t handle it. You know everything about me, every nightmare, every memory, every wound. You said you’d protect me, but how can you protect me when you won’t even let me in?”
His throat moved as he swallowed hard, eyes flicking to hers. “I don’t know how to talk about it,” he muttered.
“Then start small,” she said, her voice breaking but firm. “Tell me what’s really going on with you. Tell me why you keep pushing everyone away, your father, Daisy, Eliana, even me. Tell me what’s scaring you so much that you’d rather drown in silence than face it.”
Knight stared at her, his lips parting slightly. His hands trembled at his sides before he finally whispered.
“The doctors said there’s still a chance, but he refuses treatment. He won’t even try. He just sits there, pretending he’s fine while his body gives up on him. Every day I watch him fade, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.”
He pressed his hand against his face, smearing the blood on his temple. “And it’s killing me because… as much as I resent him, he’s still my father. The only one I have left. The last piece of the life I lost.”
Genesis said nothing. She knew all this. She had seen Donald's frail hands, the way he tried to hide his coughing fits when Knight wasn’t looking.
Knight let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “You know what’s funny? I used to think I’d be fine when he died. That maybe I’d feel free. But now…” His voice trembled. “Now I can’t stand the thought of losing him.”
He looked away, eyes distant. “He wasn’t there when I needed him. Not once. After my mother died, he sent me to Japan like I was some burden he needed to get rid of. I was seven, Genesis. Seven. He dumped me in that empty house with strangers who barely spoke English and told me to ‘be strong.’”
His jaw clenched as the memories came flooding back. “I cooked my own meals. Washed my own clothes. I’d wake up and the house would be silent. I’d go to school, and they’d call me names I didn’t even understand at first. The kids used to spit in my lunch, shove me into lockers, burn my notebooks… and I couldn’t fight back because I was small and scared and…” He stopped, voice breaking. “I hated myself for it.”
Genesis’s hand trembled as she touched his arm. “Kieran…”
He continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I used to talk to myself just to stay sane. I made up stories, whole worlds, so I wouldn’t feel so alone. That’s where Knight started. The voice that wasn’t scared. The one who could fight back, take control. He was everything I couldn’t be. And when I got older… I became him.”
He gave a broken laugh. “Kieran is the scared little boy who was abandoned. Knight is the man who made sure no one could ever hurt him again. Sometimes I don’t even know which one of them is real anymore.”
Genesis’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t interrupt.
He took a shaky breath. “And Donald… for all his sins, for everything he did, he’s still my father. I tell myself I don’t care, that I owe him nothing. But every time I see him weak, I feel like that seven-year-old again, waiting for him to come home and say he’s proud of me. I know it’ll never happen. But I still want it.”
The room fell quiet.
Genesis moved closer, cupping his face. “You’re not that little boy anymore, Kieran. You don’t need his approval to heal. But you still deserve to grieve. Even for the man who failed you.”
Knight’s lips trembled. He leaned his forehead against hers, eyes glistening. “I don’t know how to stop being angry,” he whispered.
“Then start by not fighting it alone,” she murmured. “You don’t have to be Knight with me. You can just be Kieran.”
He closed his eyes. “I’ll try,” he whispered.
And for the first time in a long time, the silence between them wasn’t heavy. It was soft. Healing.