Scars To Gold: A Queen's Rise

When I got back to the apartment, the front door was slightly ajar. A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. I pushed it open slowly. The sound of soft laughter drifted from the living room. There, on the custom-made sofa I had picked out, sat Everleigh Hooper. Ignatz was sitting on the coffee table in front of her, feeding her a strawberry. She giggled and leaned forward to kiss him. It was a perfectly staged, intimate moment. And I had just walked in on it. Ignatz saw me first. His smile faltered for a second, his eyes hardening. "Gen." Everleigh looked over, her big, innocent eyes widening. She immediately shrank back against the cushions, making herself look small and scared. "Gen, can you give us a minute?" Ignatz said, keeping his voice low, as if I were an intruder. "Everleigh isn't feeling well. I'll come to the guest room later." I let out a short, sharp laugh. "The guest room? Ignatz, this is my apartment. My name is on the lease. If anyone should leave, it's her." He stood up, his expression turning pleading. "Please, just for tonight. You know how she is. We grew up together, I've always taken care of her. She needs me right now." He was trying to appeal to the part of me that had always made excuses for him, for their "special" bond. "I'll get her a hotel tomorrow, I promise," he said, his voice a low murmur. "We'll sort this out." I didn't say another word. I just turned and walked to the spare bedroom, closing the door behind me. I couldn't block out the sounds. A few minutes later, I heard their laughter again, louder this time, mixed with the sound of the TV. They were settling in for the night. In my home. I curled up on the bed, not bothering to change. The tears I had held back all day finally came, soaking the pillow in the dark. Much later, I heard the bedroom door creak open. A shadow fell across the bed. "Gen? Are you awake?" It was Ignatz, his voice a guilty whisper. He sat on the edge of the bed, his weight making the mattress dip. He reached out and touched my hair. "I'm sorry about today," he said, his voice thick. "It's just a lot to deal with. The baby... we'll have another one, Gen. When the time is right, I swear." I lay perfectly still, my body rigid. He didn't know. He thought I had gone through with it. He was apologizing for the inconvenience, not the monstrous thing he had asked of me. The irony was a bitter pill in my throat. Suddenly, a sharp scream came from the living room. "Iggy! Iggy, where are you?" Ignatz shot up from the bed as if he'd been electrocuted. "Leigh?" "I had a nightmare!" she wailed. "Come back!" Without a second thought, without another glance at me, he bolted from the room. "I'm coming, Leigh! I'm here!" For the rest of the night, the sound of his low, soothing voice drifted down the hallway as he comforted her, leaving me alone in the dark. The next morning, I dragged my exhausted body out of bed. The smell of coffee and bacon filled the air. For a delusional second, it felt like any other morning. Then I walked into the kitchen. Ignatz was at the stove, flipping pancakes. Everleigh was perched on a stool, wearing one of his expensive silk shirts, her bare legs dangling. She was laughing as he playfully dabbed a bit of whipped cream on her nose. They looked like a happy couple in a coffee commercial. I was the ghost haunting the set. Everleigh saw me and her bright smile vanished. She instantly adopted her frightened-doe look, clutching Ignatz's arm. "Oh. Genevieve. You're up." "Iggy," she whispered, loud enough for me to hear. "I want orange juice. Freshly squeezed." "Of course, Leigh. Anything you want," Ignatz said, turning to the fridge without a single glance in my direction. The moment he was busy with the juicer, Everleigh's entire demeanor changed. The fear melted away, replaced by a smug, triumphant smirk. She looked directly at me. "He was so disappointed when he thought you were pregnant," she said, her voice a syrupy poison. "He told me he never wanted kids with you. He said the thought of it made his skin crawl." I froze, my hand on the counter. My head snapped up to look at her. My fingers trembled. "You think you can win?" she continued, her voice dripping with contempt. "I'm Everleigh Hooper. My uncle is one of the most powerful producers in Hollywood. Who are you? A no-name architect he picked up out of pity." My blood ran cold. I knew her uncle was influential. I hadn't realized how much. That's why Ignatz was so desperate to protect her. It wasn't just love; it was ambition. She was his ticket to a world he craved. Suddenly, Everleigh let out a sharp cry and slid off the stool, collapsing onto the floor. "Ahh! My ankle!" she shrieked, clutching it. "Genevieve, why did you push me?" Ignatz spun around, his face a mask of fury. He saw me standing near her, saw her on the floor, and didn't hesitate. He lunged forward and shoved me, hard. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he roared. I stumbled backward, my hip slamming into the corner of the kitchen island. A sharp, searing pain shot through my side. I gasped, clutching the spot. He didn't even notice. He was already on the floor, cradling Everleigh in his arms. "Are you okay, Leigh? Did she hurt you?" He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a cold, terrifying hatred. "She's fragile, you idiot! I told you that!" "I... I didn't touch her," I stammered, the pain making my voice shake. "Get out of my sight," he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't you ever touch her again. I'm warning you, Genevieve." He scooped Everleigh up into his arms and carried her out of the kitchen, leaving me standing there, trembling with pain and shock. My hand went instinctively to my stomach, a silent prayer that the baby was okay. This was my home. And I had just been declared the enemy.