Genevieve
Chapter thirty-two
The sheets were warm, tangled around my legs, heavy with the smell of Reid’s scent. My body ached in places I hadn’t felt in a long time. I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling.
For the first time in a long time, my mind wasn’t racing ahead.
We’d spent the night together again. After tucking in Eugene, I was startled when Reid had slipped in behind me in the hall, nipping at my ear despite my protests, his hands tracing my body like it belonged to him.
And I caved again. Because who was I kidding? I was still utterly in love with the man. I’d let him do just about anything to me if it meant he’d look at me the way he once did. He was beating himself up for looking at me in that way these last few days. But even then, he was caving too.
I slipped out of bed, pulling on my robe as I crossed the room to the bathroom, the floor cool under my feet.
After flicking on the bathroom light, I leaned over the sink, reaching for my toothbrush before tying my hair back.
My thoughts couldn’t escape his words from last night, the trip in California, the sight of the little family I always wanted, the one I’d always dreamed of.
All of it had made me feel all warm inside.
And I’d had this stupid idea that maybe… somehow things between us could work. Being his brother’s fiancée definitely wasn’t on my side, but it didn’t have to end up being a disaster in the end.
We could still be the little family with just him and me and our son. Run away to California, live under the sun and forget about the chaos here in New York. That was wishful thinking, but it was a wish nonetheless. And with how he held me last night? It didn’t seem like a far-fetched one.
Maybe we could figure it out.
Maybe we could—
My gaze dropped. The drawer beside me was open, only enough to see the edge of what was inside. And I froze.
The toothbrush stilled in my mouth as my eyes locked on the box tucked near the back. Placing it on the counter, I opened the drawer fully, my mind short-circuiting as I pulled out the box. The empty box of tampons that I’d swore I’d replenish the last time I had my cycle…
When… when was the last time I had it?
Placing the box down, my hand found the edge of the counter, my mind immediately beginning to spin. My thoughts scrambled uselessly backward. The weeks blurred. Dates slipped through my grasp.
I clenched the counter harder.
Four… five… six weeks? No, that couldn’t be right.
I rummaged through the drawer under it, willing myself to remember the last time I’d used one. And when the box I’d found was just as empty, I could only stand there, panic building inside me.
I was late. I was very late.
I sank down onto the closed toilet lid, the robe falling slack against my shoulders, my feet numb against the tile.
I remembered the last time I missed my period.
It was Eugene. Back then, there had been nausea.
Sore breasts. The constant metallic taste in my mouth.
All the signs they warned you about in the parenting books I never read.
This time?
It had only been a month of chaos. Reid coming back home, Newman Trust financials going down the drain, business meetings, airports, sleepless nights, Reid’s body on mine. I didn’t have time to worry about a period… and it looked like I didn’t need to anyway.
I curled over slightly, pressing my forehead into my palms. And that’s when the real terror hit me… The night Reid came back, I was still in Gregory’s bed.
Still pretending, trying to hold the illusion together. We’d had sex that week. I still hated myself for it.
And then—
I was with Reid. Again. And again. And again. His hands on me like he was trying to reclaim lost time, and my body answering like it didn’t remember it had ever belonged to someone else.
There was a slim chance it could be Gregory’s, but it was a chance nonetheless. A chance I realized I didn’t want.
It could be Reid’s. I wanted it to be his. God, I needed it to be his.
But I didn’t know yet. And once I started showing, I knew for a fact Reid would want to know.
Need to know, actually. He’d want to be part of the baby’s life.
He wouldn’t ask. He’d take. He’d make room in a way that wouldn’t leave space for any more lies.
I could almost imagine a world where we figured it out.
A family. Together again, fractured, but somehow real.
Eugene wouldn’t be waiting for his father to show up.
I wouldn’t be pretending or alone anymore.
But what if it was Gregory’s? What if, after everything… after Reid came back, after I let him back into my heart, my son’s life, watched him burn down the Newman empire, I was still carrying Gregory’s child? What if this baby bound me to the one man I no longer wanted anything to do with?
I could feel the panic rise again.
If this baby was his—
Then I was trapped. Again. Trapped in a life I couldn’t run from this time. This wouldn’t just be another secret I could bury. This wouldn’t just be Eugene all over again. If Gregory ever found out the truth, about me and Reid, about the baby—
Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t think straight.
“Genevieve?”
Reid
She was standing at the bathroom sink when I found her, pale and trembling, staring at me like a deer in headlights. Toothbrush half used, forgotten on the edge of the counter, hands pressed flat against her thighs, fingers white-knuckled.
I was already in front of her before I realized I’d moved.
Crouching low, my hands came up to her face out of instinct. “Genevieve,” I said again, her face growing more pale.
Her breathing was shallow, her body trembling so subtly I wouldn’t have seen it if I hadn’t been this close. My thumbs brushed along her cheekbones as I leaned closer.
“Hey.” I softened my voice further. “Breathe.” She blinked once, then twice before she breathed in deeply, letting it out with a shaky breath. “Talk to me, mon amour. What’s wrong?”
She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. My heart pounded harder in my ears. This woman, this proud, stubborn, reckless woman only broke like this when something was really wrong.
I had the sudden urge to scan her body for injuries, blood, something that would give me an answer, but I ignored it. All I wanted to do was focus on her and keep her grounded. My hands slid down to her arms, steadying her gently.
Eventually her fingers that were curled at her sides loosened, knuckles less pale, breath still shallow. She finally went to speak, but then—
My cell buzzed in my pocket. I didn’t want to notice it, but Genevieve had retracted before I could stop her, her eyes hardening as she let out a soft sigh. She was close to telling me something, but the sound had broken the moment. Whatever she was about to say was gone now.
I cursed under my breath and pulled the phone out, answering while my hand still brushed down her arm, trying to keep her calm.
“Kaufman speaking.”
“Reid.” Alexander’s voice crackled through the receiver, nervous and panicked. “The Feds are here.”
My eyebrows furrowed. “What?” My voice came out rough as I stood. Genevieve stood after me, looking at me in concern. Easing her worries, my hand slipped into hers as I listened.
“I don’t know how they got access. But they’re walking the floors right now, halting all operations, seizing what they deem as evidence.”
“With a warrant?” I snapped, and there was a beat of silence.
“…I don’t think the Department of Treasury is concerned with warrants right now.”
The fucking Treasury? I tried to keep my composure. I knew something like this was coming. Everything looked too clean. It was bound to crash at some point.
“I’ll be there soon. If they ask you anything, don’t say a word to them,” I said, and ended the call before he could stammer anything else.
Genevieve’s fingers curled tighter in mine. “…Reid?”
She was still pale and shaken from whatever she’d been about to tell me before the phone interrupted us. My thumb brushed along her knuckles, gentler than I meant to be.
“We need to leave. Get ready. Cara will be here in fifteen.”
She didn’t answer. Her eyes were unfocused, somewhere between fear and whatever spiral she’d fallen into minutes before.
I could practically hear her heart sprinting.
I slid my hand into her hair and I pulled her close to me, my hand still locked onto hers, not wanting to let her go for even a second.
“Vieve,” I murmured, lowering my head to hers, “Newman Trust is going under investigation. The government is seizing everything. I need you to focus.”
“I’m trying.” Her voice was thin, frayed at the edges.
“I know you are, mon amour,” I said, the endearment slipping out before I could stop it. “But right now, I need you to try a little harder.”
She swallowed hard. My jaw tightened as I watched. I brought her chin up with a finger until she looked at me, all wide-eyed, terrified, breaking in ways she didn’t want me to see.
“I need you by my side for this,” I said quietly. “But I need you calm. And I need you to trust me to handle this.”
Her lips parted, the beginning of an argument, a confession maybe? Hell if I knew. But I could see it: the hesitation in her eyes, the fracture running straight through the center of her.
And I couldn’t blame her.
The idea of trust between us was still broken. The foundation of loyalty we used to stand on had been cracked, partially rebuilt, only to be shattered again. Part of her wanted to lean into me. The other part didn’t know if she was allowed to… if I was allowing her to.
I stepped closer, closing the space she kept trying to retreat into.
“Vieve,” I said, low, steady, her name almost a warning. “I know what I said. I made you question whether I trust you. And I know my intentions coming back are not pure.”
Her eyes held mine. I could see the pain, a flash of the tears she’d shed in the kitchen hours ago.
“It doesn’t change what I need from you right now,” I continued. “You don’t have to trust the man I was,” I murmured. “You don’t even have to trust the man standing in front of you…”
Her breath caught, chest lifting in a tight, shaky inhale.
“But I need you right now.” I stepped in closer, voice dropping to something darker, more deliberate. “For once I need you to stay with me.”
The quiet, brutal truth sat between us. Not said outright, but she heard the echo of my words anyway: Because the last time I needed you, you didn’t.
“Can you do that?”
She blinked, practically stunned at my admission before she nodded quickly. I placed a lingering kiss on her forehead before pulling away.
“Get dressed; we leave in ten.”