52. Reid
Chapter fifty-two
Reid
Time can change everything or it can change nothing.
I’d lived long enough to know that much. Over the years, power came easily. Especially when you already held all the cards dealt.
Months had gone by and the issue that was the Newman family was finally gone. Calvin was all too proud to be the bearer of good news. The memory slipped in easily, his nasally voice, too pleased with himself for a man who had failed spectacularly for more than a decade.
“Mr. Kaufman,” he’d said, voice laced with idiotic triumph, “the Newman problem has been… addressed. Permanently this time. Rather messy, but effective. Your son was quite productive this time around. Now,” he continued boldly, “given this extraordinary success, I assume this secures my future… our future? My seat in the throne of such a fine dynasty?”
His obsession with the Russels was what I’d considered a carrot for a horse. The line between usefulness and extermination was paper-thin with him. He’d danced on it for years. Still did to this day.
But he truly was the only man desperate enough to handle the job. Just didn’t know he’d be a pain in the ass for more than fifteen years.
My gaze shifted to the worn leather journal on my desk, Genevieve’s handwriting curling across the pages. Lists, notes, recipes Brielle had sent her from the family butlers they kept on retainer.
The two of them grew close over the years. Closer than I ever expected. Brielle had forgiven her mother in ways Eugene never could.
She called often. Asked about her life. Shared pictures of her children. Invited her into the world she’d built from abandonment and found family. It steadied Genevieve, softened her grief at losing her children. Gave her purpose again.
And soon enough, she asked the question I’d known was coming.
“Reid… Brielle invited me to spend Christmas at the estate… I want to go.”
She’d finally asked me to see her daughter—her family… and I told her yes.
Because time did change something. It grew the bond between a lost mother and daughter. It made the world forget the past that kept us hidden.
And apparently, it had softened me too. More than I’d like to admit.
The soft click of my office door pulled me from the memory. Genevieve slipped inside, wearing one of her silk slips, hair still damp from the shower, robe framing her perfect body. Time had definitely done my wife well.
“Reid?” she said gently, approaching my desk as my eyes lifted from my work. “Are you busy?”
“Yes,” I said, but I had already turned my chair to face her anyway.
I leaned back, my legs sprawled for her in invitation, veined hands resting on my thighs, waiting for her to sit.
She sat across my lap, legs crossing as she toyed with her hands.
I wrapped my arms around her waist, waiting for her to speak.
“I… I wanted to ask you something.”
“I figured…” I muttered, pulling the robe down, exposing her shoulder as I placed a kiss on her skin. “You only come in here dressed like this to distract me when you’re about to ruin my night or make it better. I’m still trying to guess which one it is.”
A breathy laugh escaped her, soft fingers brushing along my jaw, tracing the stubble and the grey threaded through my hair.
I wasn’t a fan of what time had carved into me—lines of exhaustion, silver at my temples—but Genevieve loved all of it. Claimed time had done me well. Turned me into a silver fox.
Though the same grey hairs she praised were always the ones she’d tug out later when I had her underneath me.
“I-I want you to come with me,” she whispered finally. “To the Russel estate.”
There it was. The words hung in the air between us.
I said nothing at first. Her pulse fluttered beneath her jaw, her nervous hands shook the slightest bit, eyes holding hope she was too afraid to voice.
She rushed on when I didn’t answer fast enough.
“I know it’s complicated. I know you haven’t seen the Russels in years.
I know what they did to you. But I want Brielle to know who you are.
” She hesitated, eyes flicking away. “I don’t—I don’t want us to be hidden anymore.
I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay hidden anymore.
You’re the most powerful man alive. No one can touch you anymore. No one can keep you hidden.”
She wasn’t wrong. I could’ve resurfaced years ago. Frederick Russel no longer had the reach to bury me. My name carried more weight in the shadows than it ever did in daylight.
The world had changed, and I had changed with it. I could’ve stepped back into the spotlight whenever I wanted. But for what?
Power? I already had it.
Money? I had more than I could spend in ten lifetimes.
Legacy? It existed whether the public saw my face or not.
There was nothing left for me out there… nothing in the real world worth the performance, the scrutiny or the noise.
So I stayed gone. For my peace and the small, quiet life we carved out of the wreckage. She had Brielle now, a daughter she never got to raise, a connection she’d dreamed of having her whole damn life.
And me? I convinced myself I didn’t need anything else.
“And I think… I think it would be good,” she said gently. “For her. For us.”
For us.
I didn’t comment on whether or not I should go, because truly… I didn’t know. I’d built a life so far removed from the world that tried to erase me that stepping back into the dynasty felt almost… pointless.
Why interrupt the life I had, when it finally felt enough?
So instead of facing that truth, I pushed the conversation back onto her. “Walking into that estate means you’re going to see every piece of the life you lost. The one you left and still grieve… And I’m supposed to stand there,” I murmured, “and watch you break all over again?”
Her eyes filled, but she shook her head decisively as her hand intertwined with mine. “I won’t break,” she whispered. “Not if you’re with me.”
I studied her for a long moment. I wasn’t staying hidden because I feared the world. I stayed hidden because the only thing I ever wanted was already in my hands.
I told myself that was enough, believed it for a long time.
But if that were true…
I wouldn’t have spent years keeping tabs on the children she left behind.
Wouldn’t have monitored Brielle the second she entered Russel territory or kept tabs on Eugene to make sure he didn’t spiral.
I wouldn’t have gone through such lengths, endured so much in the dark to make sure they stayed in the light.
And for the most part… the convincing had worked.
Until now.
I leaned down, pressing my forehead to her shoulder as a deep sigh escaped my chest. “When do we leave?”
Her relief hit her instantly, her hands clutching my shirt as she exhaled shakily. “Tomorrow morning.”
I pulled her closer, letting my lips graze her shoulder—right where her robe had slipped, my hands already lifting her slip. Because that was our routine. Every time she asked for something that could ruin both of us… something that was implausible… she offered herself first.
And every time, I let her. I said yes, whether to her body, to her voice, or her impossible requests.
And tomorrow would be no different. Tomorrow, I would walk straight into the lion’s den for her.
But tonight?
Tonight she was mine.
The road narrowed the farther north we drove in upstate New York, trees rising on either side like dark pillars guiding us toward the estate. A second SUV kept its distance behind us, just for precaution. The woman beside me was precious cargo.
Genevieve sat, hands folded in her lap, gaze fixed on the snow-thick woods rushing past her window. She hadn’t spoken in ten minutes. Her fidgeting and light hyperventilation told me exactly what was going through her mind.
I tightened my hand on the steering wheel, exhaling through my nose as the estate’s outer borders came into view, high gates, stone walls, cameras. The pinnacle of old money arrogance.
Her hand slid toward mine, hesitant and trembling, until her fingers curled around my knuckles resting on the gear shift. Her grip was tight and desperate. The closer we got, the more she shook.
“Reid…” she whispered, voice breaking in small pieces. “What if it’s too soon?”
I kept my eyes on the road, feeling every word she’d spoken in my chest. Her breathing turned shallow, her hand shaking harder in mine.
“What if she isn’t ready for this?” she choked softly. “What if we ruin everything? What if this entire trip is a mistake?”
Fear sat in every inch of her posture as she spiraled, and I hated it. The past had such a grip on her, clawing at the edges of her mind, the uncertainty of it all tightening like a noose around her throat.
I shifted my grip, turning my hand under hers so our fingers interlocked. Then I pulled her delicate hand to my mouth, pressing a slow, steady kiss to the back of it.
“Genevieve.” I kept my voice firm and grounding.
Her eyes flicked toward me, all glassy and terrified. “What if we’re not ready?” she whispered.
My thumb stroked the back of her hand once.
“What if,” I murmured, “now is exactly the right time?”
She swallowed, hard. “I’m scared,” she admitted, voice cracking.
“She’s… she’s built a life without me. And I have no right to disrupt it.
I don’t know if she’ll want me. I don’t know if she’ll want you.
Eugene already rejected me,” she whispered.
“What if she does the same after meeting you. What if—”
“Vieve,” I cut her off.
She sighed. “…I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I muttered. “We can leave at any moment, you know that. You say the word, and we turn around.”
“You won’t be disappointed?”
I flicked a glance at her. “I came for you,” I said, placing another kiss on her skin. “I’m ready when you are. If you’re not, then we wait until that day comes.”
“…I love you. So much.”
I didn’t loosen my grip on her hand as we reached the gates.
Warm golden lights spilled across the snow beyond them, the Russel estate glowing like some holiday spectacle carved into the forest. Stopped at the barrier, I looked over to my beautiful wife.
The one I’d do anything for. The one who followed me to the end of the earth and brought me back to the world.
“I love you, mon amour.” My lips found hers, claiming and calming her in the same breath.
The gates soon opened and I pulled away, giving her one last chance to back out, one last chance to make our way back to our little corner of the world. The one where I kept her for myself. The one I was convinced was enough for us.
But when she nodded, I turned back to the road, crossing the threshold.
I knew there was no going back. Whatever waited for us inside that estate… we’d face it together.