11. Genevieve
Chapter eleven
Genevieve
The scent of coffee and bacon had woken me before my alarm. The sunlight filtered into the room from the blinds, the bed beside me cold. No trace that Gregory had even slipped into it sometime during the night.
Getting out of bed, I brushed up before making my way through the halls. The house was still, the air in it less thick than it had been over the last few days.
Eugene’s door was left ajar, his room empty, but his laugh carried through the halls and up the stairs. I followed it down the steps, stopping before the threshold of the kitchen, just out of view.
He sat at the counter, one leg crossed under him on a stool, the other swinging as he pointed to something on the page in front of him.
A stack of papers was spread across the marble, scribbles and blocky shapes, colorful galaxies that had stars and suns and superheroes.
His latest obsession with all things Marvel comics and the occasional appreciation for DC.
Even if he couldn’t exactly read them on his own, he still had a love for them.
Across from him, leaning casually on the other side of the island, was Reid.
His head was tilted, his body a slouch of calculated ease, one hand wrapped around a mug that still steamed. The other braced against the counter, veins prominent, knuckles flexing, the visual dangerously alluring for whatever twisted reason.
He hadn’t seen me yet. Or maybe he had, and just didn’t care to acknowledge me. He was dressed down, or at least his version of it. No tie, burgundy dress shirt sleeves rolled once at the forearms, the top two buttons undone to reveal a sliver of skin.
He looked... at home.
Not like a guest or the exiled bastard of the family come back to stake his claim. No. He looked like he belonged there… at my kitchen counter, in my morning, on the other end of my son’s laughter.
There was stubble on his jaw, thicker than usual, thicker than I was used to, shadowing the sharp lines of his face, making him look ruthless, older and more dangerous.
My heart pounded harder, like my body was trying to warn me and draw me closer to him at the same time. He was actually listening to Eugene, watching him with curiosity, his deliberate fingers tracing the edges of one of my son’s drawings.
“And she has a shield, like… like force fields, so if the planet explodes they don’t get burned up or nothin’.” Eugene was breathless, curls bouncing as he explained.
“What about this guy?” Reid pointed to another one of Eugene’s drawings. “Why is he so important?”
“He’s a super soldier. He uses a real shield and is super strong and fast and can beat up bad guys.”
Reid gave a soft nod, asking more questions as he mindlessly cut a pancake into smaller pieces before holding it up to Eugene for his next bite.
I hated this. Hated him for pretending like he belonged here. For being so calm, so effortless, so fucking observant. For sitting in this kitchen and making Eugene feel seen. Understood. His full attention on the clueless little boy.
Gregory never asked questions like that.
Never slowed down long enough to learn the shape of Eugene’s thoughts, let alone actually take his interests into consideration even if he was just a child.
Sometimes… it felt like Eugene was just…
an accessory to him. A bullet point in a speech of who to thank or who he wanted to mention.
A future he could point to when the board asked about family values.
But Reid?
Reid was watching Eugene like every word mattered. Like it meant something. Acting as if what he was learning was the most important thing in the world.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
Stepping into the space, I smiled as my boy looked over at me, his grin widening. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, Lovebug. Enjoying breakfast, I see.” I smiled.
Eugene scrambled off the stool, arms already reaching, the drawings forgotten as he threw himself into me. I scooped him up, anchoring his weight against my hip, holding him tighter than necessary, wanting to hide him away from the man who was too calm across the counter.
My tone stayed light, but my eyes flicked toward Reid, who was still looking at the drawing. He hadn’t looked at me once.
Eugene wriggled free suddenly, wanting to grab something from his room. He dropped to his feet, bolting down the hall before I could answer.
“He was so excited to show me what he’s been working on.” Reid began, “Said his dad didn’t have time to look…”
“Don’t start.”
He glanced up at me finally for the first time this morning. “It’s a simple observation, Vieve.”
“I don’t need your observations.”
He gave a quiet hum, eyes still on me. “He showed me ten drawings like it was the highlight of his week. One after the other. Hands shaking. Words tripping over themselves in excitement the entire time. You ever sit through one of those explanations? The planets, the capes, the made-up powers?”
My throat went tight. “Of course I have.”
“Has Gregory?”
“What does it matter?!” My voice cracked harder than I meant it to. “Why are you so fixated on our son?”
“Because your son is desperate for attention, and he shouldn’t have to be. Not when you’re living your perfect life… or maybe not-so-perfect.”
I scoffed. “Why are you so hellbent on labeling everything?”
He shrugged. “Why are you so obsessed with keeping a failing relationship together?”
“Like I said before, Reid, you don’t know anything about my relationship with Gregory. So stay out of it.”
His eyes followed me as I stepped away from him, grabbing the dishes from the counter. My mind couldn’t take another second of being close to him, of being trapped under his gaze.
He glanced down at his mug. “I leave for California in three weeks,” he said casually.
I paused at the sink. “Good for you.”
“Silicon Valley’s been circling the new energy platform. I need to be on-site.”
“I’m not the board, Reid. I don’t need the business pitch.”
“No, Vieve, you don’t need it,” he said, faint amusement in his tone as he stepped closer. “But you’ll be coming with me.”
I blinked, turning away as I looked up at him. “Excuse me?”
It wasn’t an offer to come or a request to join him. It was a command delivered in that low, unbothered tone of his that made everything sound inevitable.
My pulse spiked. “You must be out of your mind.”
He tilted his head slightly, eyes following the tension in my throat, then lower as his eyes raked my body, and suddenly, I regretted the silk robe and slip I hadn’t bothered to change out of this morning.
“I thought we’d established that a long time ago,” he muttered, low, and I clenched my jaw, keeping my voice even, careful.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He didn’t argue or raise his tone as he stepped closer, so slow it was almost mocking, until the space between us was negligible.
The faint smell of his cologne, mahogany, cedar, something dark, something dangerous underneath…
it wound through me like a traitorous memory, one I tried to bury but which only left my skin on fire.
He towered over me, all strength and power and man. He was so intimidating, shoulders all broad, gaze penetrating, and so stupidly, infuriatingly attractive.
“You think I’m asking?”
I shook my head. “I think you’re delusional.”
“Maybe I am,” he murmured, arms caging me in against the sink counter, “but you’re still coming.”
“Why would I—”
“Because I want you to. That should be a good enough reason.” His voice dropped, the thread of amusement gone now as his hand slid around my waist, pulling me flush against him.
Despite my efforts to push him away, my trembling hands against his defined chest, it was useless.
“And because you still haven’t learned what happens when you tell me no. ”
My heart stuttered. I hated that my body still remembered the way his authority could settle under my skin, make my breath catch in my throat.
“Let go of me,” I whispered. It came out weaker than I wanted, breathless, not commanding in the slightest.
He stared down at me, his eyes conflicted before he reluctantly pulled away. Despite the war in my mind, the loss of his touch made my skin feel cold.
“Eugene has that appointment this afternoon, doesn’t he?” He began after a moment, “Pediatric follow-up?”
“How do you even know these things?”
“You know I have my ways…” he said, leaning against the kitchen island. “You’re going to the office instead.”
“What?”
“I’ll take him.”
My pulse kicked up again. “Absolutely not.”
He looked amused. Somehow I must’ve missed the punchline. “I can handle a routine check-up at the pediatrician, Vieve. We’ll spend the afternoon together and be home before you know it. Consider it quality uncle–nephew time.”
“You can’t just—”
“Sure, I can.” He picked his jacket off the chair, resting it on his arm. “You need to begin coordinating appearances; the board wants to be up to speed with your plans.”
“I don’t have plans, Reid. I have a son, and you’re—”
“Taking the weight off your shoulders for a little. It’s no problem. You’ve been spread thin.”
I crossed my arms. “Don’t pretend this is considerate.”
“I’m not. Consider it practical. You need to be in that office. Eugene needs to be at that appointment. I’m solving both problems.”
“By inserting yourself into my son’s life.”
“By being available.” His eyes met mine, flat and unbothered. “Something his father hasn’t managed lately.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but the words died on my lips as he left the room. I wanted to argue, to shout that he was a manipulative self-centered idiot, that Gregory was there for us, that he was wrong.
But unfortunately, he wasn’t.