Ch. 14 | Blessed, Branded, and Becoming Dangerous

“Blessings, kingdom men!” Grant beamed at the camera, his voice a polished crescendo of Christian bravado.

“Be a good helpmate, sisters!” Macey chirped, hand lightly placed over her heart, smile as serene as her pastel blouse.

The camera light went off.

Grant let out an audible exhale and stood up from the stool with a scoff. “Ugh. I swear if I have to say ‘kingdom’ one more time I’m going to snap. Who even came up with that crap?”

Macey didn’t answer. She was already peeling off her earrings.

“Did you see that smug douchebag doctor at the HOA white party yesterday?” Grant muttered, heading toward the fridge. “Jesse, or whatever his name is. Standing there like he’s too good for the rest of us. Self-righteous prick.”

He popped the top on a kombucha, took a long swig, and smirked over his shoulder. “That Sam Ellison girl, though. I’ll give her this—she’s hot. Weird as hell, but hot.”

He said it just loud enough.

Macey stiffened. Her smile—though long gone—flattened into a tight line. She didn’t respond, not because she was unaffected, but because she knew better than to let him see it.

Grant was already grabbing his keys. “I’ve got to take care of something. Won’t be long.”

He was meeting David. Macey didn’t know the details, but she knew enough to know that “won’t be long” always meant trouble.

The door shut behind him.

Macey stood in the silent room for a beat, then took a few steady breaths and dropped down onto their oversized, ethereal white couch.

This house—every inch curated for their online aesthetic—felt less like a dream and more like a mausoleum. Light-toned woods, minimalist throw blankets, hanging ferns… all carefully arranged to mimic peace. But peace had never lived here.

It was a prison.

And she had no plans of leaving.

Her upbringing made sure of that.

She’d been raised in a house that stank of sweat, desperation, and cheap sanctimony. Her mother, Faith, wore Christianity like armor and perfume—loud, performative, weaponized. And when Darryl, her stepfather, started “inviting” Macey to his room for sleepovers, Faith didn’t just look the other way—she blamed her.

“If you weren’t trying to seduce him, he wouldn’t be tempted. You’re the one who needs to pray harder.”

Her sister Beth had tried. Eight years older and already out of the house by the time things turned vile, Beth returned with fire. She confronted Faith. Spoke to their church. Told the truth.

They called her the troubled one. A bitter sister with a grudge. Overdramatic. Unstable.

The church wrapped around Faith and Darryl like a cocoon.

When Beth finally went public, tried to expose them again, Macey had the chance to tell the truth. But instead, she threw Beth under the bus—said she was making it up for attention.

Deep down, Macey hated what her father did. But she loved the presents. The new clothes. The way she got to bend the rules. It gave her a twisted sense of leverage—and she learned early that leverage was everything.

She met Grant at a teen Christian leadership conference called Ignite the Fire Within. He was tall, cocky, and clearly rich. He also liked damaged girls who looked good in flowy skirts and knew how to cry at altar calls.

Macey knew how to play that part.

She made him obsessed with her. And when his temper flared or the rumors started—she looked away. Including the college incident. The girl who cried after the party. The one who wouldn’t come back to school. Grant got a slap on the wrist. David took the fall.

Macey didn’t care.

Because she’d won.

She got the house. The channel. The lifestyle. The freedom.

Well—sort of.

Grant hadn’t touched her in months.
Not that she missed it.
But she resented that even sex—the one currency she’d mastered—no longer bought her influence. Not with him.And now he was looking at Sam Ellison like that?

The dress was gorgeous, Macey admitted… And Sam carried herself like she knew something no one else did. That pissed her off more than anything.

Her phone buzzed.

It was Beth.

Macey stared at the screen for a moment before hitting “ignore” and tossing the phone aside. It bounced off the couch and hit the floor. She retrieved it with more force than grace, threw it back onto the cushions, and sighed.

Beth didn’t get it. Not then. Not now.

But maybe… maybe she had been the real one all along.

The thought unsettled her. She didn’t like it. So she pushed it away.

Instead, she opened her iPad and began scrolling through videos on manifestation. Vision boards. Sigils. Frequencies.

She’d done the church thing.

Now it was time for something… real.

Macey leaned back, one leg curled beneath her. Her smile returned, but it was thinner than before. Hungrier.

Power, she thought. That’s what I need. Power that doesn’t ask me to be small.

Her fingers hovered over a video titled:

“Dark Feminine Energy: How to Activate the Version of You That No One Can Control.”

She clicked play