45. Reid
Chapter forty-five
Reid
The morning air hit cool against my skin, nothing like the recycled, stagnant vents of detention center they kept me in for show.
I stepped out onto the private tarmac in a dark suit that fit my new body too well.
Months of confinement had carved me into something leaner and harder.
The fabric stretched over muscle born from consistent exercise my mind forced me into for my sanity.
My features that had grown darker and more weathered over the same time, however, I had little control of.
Two federal escorts flanked me, guarding and watching my every move while being fearful of me all the same.
How ironic… the man under a leash was still the most feared in the room.
My polished shoes clicked against the asphalt, echoing beneath me against the sound of the sleek black jet waiting to take off. Not commercial or traceable, it was obviously the kind of plane billionaires would use to make people disappear.
Alexander walked a few paces ahead, clipboard in hand, posture tight.
He was also in a suit, expensive and pressed, but he looked older than he had just months ago.
Thinner and harsher around the eyes. He had essentially become…
me to the public. Executing every task, every order, every deal or succession without fault while I orchestrated it all behind the scenes.
He waited at the base of the stairs as the guards paused, giving a respectful nod like he outranked them—because in this transaction, he did.
We ascended the steps, entering the cabin, and the flight attendants poured whiskey on rocks as refreshments.
Alexander didn’t waste a second once we were alone.
“The remaining transfers are holding steady,” he said.
“We’re at 1.5 billion moved, unflagged, and the final Newman account freeze from the Feds went through this morning,” he said.
“Every Newman Trust account Gregory started and failed is officially locked.”
“What about the three dormant accounts you used?”
“Under the eyes of the Feds. They’re technically frozen but Gregory never filed them under Newman’s umbrella. They’re independent entities on paper. The government can’t seize what Newman Trust doesn’t own.”
I almost let a smile slip. Good boy, Gregory. “But Uncle Sam is greedy. He’ll want every penny they think they can find.”
He shrugged. “The Department of the Treasury has more shit to worry about than the shell network we built. They’re not worried about messy hedge funds, dormant real estate holdings, or failed start-up portfolios. Those places no one is looking because they won’t think it’s Newman money.”
“And they can’t connect it.”
“They can’t even find it. The Trust collapse buried the trail.
As long as Newman Trust remains under federal freeze, the government assumes the fortune is locked.
Meanwhile, we use the money, recycle it, let it sit and generate the bank interest. So long as we don’t raise too many red flags, the money is clean. ”
“Cheers to that.” I lifted my glass, downing the liquid as he shook his head.
Alexander exhaled. “It still amazes me no one has touched you.”
I raised a brow. “They can’t.”
“You know… most men who get pulled into federal custody come out broken,” he murmured. “You came out with more power than when you went in.”
My jaw ticked. “Thank Russel for that,” I said, low, a hint of distaste on my tongue.
“Him and his elite posse were probably petrified of what I was becoming. And with Silicon Valley projected to advance into tech they’re not even ready for, he decided wisely.
Positioned himself behind the fire rather than standing in front of it to get burned.
Wrapped a leash around my neck, afraid I’d do it to him first…
Made this cage feel like a partnership.”
Alexander swallowed. “Well… captivity from a business partner is one hell of an endorsement, I’ll tell you that.”
I didn’t respond, taking another sip out of the glass as I looked out the window.
I could have laughed. An endorsement this huge felt like a trap and a favor all at once, but I knew that from the very beginning.
Frederick made sure the world couldn’t stop me.
Not the government, investors, elites. Not even… her.
Every time I tried to get her out of my head, every time I tried to focus on something that wasn’t the woman I fell asleep dreaming of or woke up thinking about… I failed.
My exile this time around was different, more brutal than years ago. I had wanted her here with me. I wanted her to choose me.
Maybe that’s what had made it worse. The fact that when she did, when she finally broke down, shaking, loving me more fiercely than anything in her life, begging me to let her finally choose me just like I had blamed her for not doing years ago… I couldn’t.
I had to let her go.
Because loving me had consequences she couldn’t survive. Her choosing me meant losing everything. I was no longer the man she chose, nor was I the one she should’ve.
I was the man the world had to isolate until he was nothing but a distant memory. Leashed like a lion in a cage, but still commanding like the king of the jungle… and I would rather die on this leash than drag her into the cage with me.
Alexander spoke cautiously, noticing my silence. “You did the right thing, you know. Letting her stay in New York. It’s what she needed. What her children needed.”
I stared straight ahead, voice cold. “Even if it wasn’t… she’s not mine. Not anymore.”
I’d already buried the version of myself that cared about warmth or love or softness.
That version believed I could still build a life with her because she was my everything.
That man died the day she walked away years ago.
He almost clawed his way to the surface again, almost found a way to come back to life…
but I couldn’t let him… Because this… this was my life now… This was who I was.
Soon, flight attendants and staff were getting ready for take-off. The engines were seconds from full throttle when commotion brewed across the tarmac, shouting, urgency, movement that wasn’t expected getting closer.
Alexander’s head snapped up from the file.
“What the hell now?” I murmured, standing as a flight attendant rushed forward, gazing out of the window before looking back at me. “Sir, there’s some commotion at the bottom of the stairs—”
Alex was already at the window. His posture faltered in a way I had never seen. “…Reid.”
I reached him in two strides. “What?”
He swallowed hard. “It’s Genevieve.”
Everything inside me stilled. He moved out of my way as I glanced out the window. My heart practically stopped beating in my chest. I couldn’t process what I was seeing… because there she was.
Hair wind-tossed. Face blotched with tears. Breathing too fast. Talking—pleading—with two federal guards who were blocking her path, their hands up, their heads shaking, attempting to calm her.
How the hell did she get here?
“Open the door,” I said without question.
I could feel Alexander’s eyes on me as I watched the guards back her away as she pleaded even more.
The flight attendant froze, an audible gulp sounding from her. “S-sir, t-the protocol f-for—”
My eyes found hers. All restraint and reason void from my mind. “Open the fucking door.”
The lock disengaged with a heavy metallic click. The cabin pressure shifted as the jet door hissed open.
Cold air rushed in.
And in that split second, she broke away from the guards, darted through the space beneath their arms and stumbled into the cabin like the ground itself was giving out beneath her. I moved instantly, stopping in the middle of the cabin as she braced a hand on the doorframe, chest heaving.
She lifted her head, her eyes finding mine. I couldn’t move, let alone fucking breathe. She looked ruined… broken and relieved.
And then she spoke. “Reid…”
My throat tightened as I kept my composure. “What are you doing here?”
Her shoulders trembled as she stepped inside fully, lip pulled between her teeth to stop herself from crying.
Her jacket slipped off one arm, hair sticking to her wet cheeks, eyes already begging without another word being said. “I—I’m sorry.” She swallowed hard. “I just… I had to see you.”
The guards tried to ascend the stairs, but my eyes shifted instantly, stopping them with a simple glance that could’ve leveled this fucking city before looking back to her.
“I should’ve chosen you. I should’ve never…
” Her words fell on a sob. “I should have never let you go.” My heart swelled in my chest. “I thought I had everything. I thought I was happy. I wasn’t.
” She shrugged, letting out a helpless sigh that held a hint of a broken smile.
“I left everything. My home. My life. My children—” The confession seemed like it was ripping her apart, but she didn’t stop.
“My world. I… I don’t know what happens now or what I’m supposed to do.
I just knew I had to get to you before you left… before you disappeared for good.”
The man inside me I had buried under rage, grief, ambition, power… I felt him the more she spoke, felt him awaken from his death as I watched her.
Her hands dangled uselessly at her sides.
“I know you won’t forgive me now. Maybe not ever.
” Her voice was barely audible. “But I couldn’t let you disappear alone.
Not again… You told me not to follow you to the end of the earth, because I’d leave my world behind.
Well,” she whispered, breath trembling out of her, “…I left it. Because I had to choose you… one last time.”
Her eyes filled with tears, overflowing. I wanted to say something… say anything… but I couldn’t.
Because my heart, the one she shattered years ago, the one she left bleeding in the dark, took a single, violent beat. The man beneath my shield of corporate armor, the one I suffocated, silenced, killed for my own sanity… he took a breath.
This woman… this fucking impossible woman… had done the one thing I had spent years believing she never would.
She followed me into the dark… the lion’s cage.
She followed me to the end of the earth.
My pulse hammered, another violent, painful beat of my heart. She didn’t understand what she’d done. What this meant or would cost her. What it did to me.
Something lethal uncoiled within me. Possession, rage, need so vicious my hands shook to touch her.
“Come here.” My voice penetrated the silence.
She moved like her body responded before her mind did, one staggered, shaking step after another.
I reached out, grabbed her face in both hands, and pulled her into me so fast she gasped.
Her palms slapped against my chest as her eyes were wide, shimmering. Her lips parted around a trembling breath as I tilted her chin up with my thumb, forcing her to look at me.
“You left your world,” I murmured, voice dark, dangerous. “And now you’re standing in mine, begging me to keep you in it… Do you even understand what that means?”
Her throat worked gently. “It means I choose you,” she whispered.
My grip tightened on her delicate face, making sure she was focused and that she’d heard every word I said.
“No,” I said quietly, leaning in until our foreheads nearly touched.
“It means there’s no going back. You stay on this plane, you let that door close…
” I continued, voice deepening, threading through her, “…you’re fucking mine.
You hear me? In every way you ran from before.
In every way you lied about and were too fucking afraid to admit to yourself.
You don’t get to walk away from me again. ”
She shook her head. “I won’t.”
“You left your children,” I said, each word a slow incision, giving her one more opportunity, one more chance to realize her mistake. “You left your safety. Your reputation. Your family. Everything you built without me.”
Her nails curled into my suit. “I know.”
“You stay on this plane, Vieve… and the world stops knowing you. You become a rumor. A ghost. You disappear. And you won’t have anything left to run back to if you regret it.”
Silence hummed between us, her lip trembling, shaking as she let out a small wavering breath. “I know what I’m choosing.” Her hands gripped my suit tighter, anchoring me to her. “I know it’s you.”
I stared down at her, searching for some flicker of hesitation, or doubt. Anything that would make this easier to walk away from and let me keep the armor I’d built around the wreckage she left behind.
Nothing.
All I could see was her devotion, her ruin.
The woman who had always been my undoing.
And my control finally snapped. My hands found her waist, grabbing her and drawing her close, my lips crashing against hers before I could control myself. Her breath hitched against my lips before she melted into me, clutching me like she’d drown if she let go.
My blood buzzed under my skin. With lightning on my skin at her touch, I felt on fire. She was the gasoline to my match. Making me burn, making me dangerous, addicted to her, desperate for her to fucking survive.
Every kiss, every frantic pull of her body against mine, fed the flame until I couldn’t tell where rage ended and devotion began. She made me feral. She always had. And now she was choosing it, choosing me, like it was her salvation instead of the end of her world.
A low sound tore from my chest, half-groan, half-laugh… Her ruin tasted sweet; the inevitable devotion to me tasted sweeter.
And the sickest part?
It pleased me.
I felt it surge through me, hot and possessive, a hunger I’d kept chained, silenced for years, growing as she pressed closer, clinging to me like I was her oxygen. Her trembling, her surrender, her love… I shouldn’t have wanted it. But I did. I always fucking would.
Her choosing me like this… broken, desperate, stripped of everything, it resurrected the part of me she buried that hid behind the empires, the power, the distance from leaving to Silicon Valley.
A man shouldn’t feel joy in a moment like this.
But I wasn’t just a man with her.
I was every ugly thing she made in me.
And Genevieve… my Vieve, mon amour, my everything… was mine.