4. Genevieve
Chapter four
Genevieve
The next morning, the sun bled through the tall windows, the warmth of its rays lying about the prospect of a brighter day ahead.
Eugene sat beside me at the dining room table, swinging his legs as I cut his eggs into small pieces. He pushed one bite around with his fork, then looked up at me with his half-sleepy eyes that always undid me.
“Wanna play after. Please, Mom?” he asked, mouth still full.
“Yes, Lovebug,” I whispered, brushing his hair back. “Just a few more bites first.”
He nodded as he continued eating.
I watched him mindlessly, my ear drifting down the hall to Raymond’s office.
“We’ll hold a board meeting around noon. Get everyone up to speed,” Raymond began, his voice level despite the heavy tension. “Cash flow’s tight, asset mix is unstable, and the board is waiting with pending questions.”
Then his voice came, my heart racing at his calm, measured tone. “Then we’ll give them answers. Plans to streamline operations, consolidate divisions, and restructure debt within the quarter. They know my record well enough to know my plans usually have a profitable turnaround.”
“Done, Mommy.” Eugene smiled, cutting my eavesdropping short as he held up his empty plate like it was a victory.
“Good job,” I said softly, kissing his temple. “Now you can go play. I’ll be right there.”
He hopped down, running off with the ease only children carried.
I tried listening further, but I stopped as Gregory’s heavy footsteps sounded through the home, heading straight for the door as his red face was twisted in anger. The slam of the front door rattled the house, cutting through it like a gunshot.
Grabbing the dishes, I walked over to the kitchen.
I stood by the sink, washing them, as the door to the office closed at the end of the hall, slower footsteps sounding through this time, much more controlled and confident than Gregory’s.
I tried to keep my head down, but they got closer to the kitchen, and even dangerously closer to me.
I tried to focus on the dishes, the soap, something.
But out of the corner of my eye, I caught the movement of someone placing an empty coffee mug on the counter.
The plates slipped in my hands, forcing a clattering sound to ring as they fell into the sink.
My hands fumbled with the sponge, suds sliding down my wrist as I forced myself to focus on anything but him.
He leaned against the counter, his eyes watching me as I took a shaky breath.
“Sleep well?”
His voice carried none of Gregory’s frantic edges. It was low and dark, calm even.
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “I… managed,” I murmured, eyes on the dish in my hand.
The silence lingered and I could feel him still leaning there, his body angled toward me, watching with that same focus that once had undone me without a single touch.
“So it’s true then,” I managed, forcing the words out. “You’re here to fix Gregory’s mess.”
“That’s what they’re hoping,” he said. His voice was smooth, almost bored. “That I’m here to patch the cracks, keep the Newman name intact. But you should know me better than that.”
I finally risked a glance at him, and instantly regretted it.
His eyes didn’t just look at me; they pinned me where I stood.
Time hadn’t softened him. Didn’t make him any less intimidating or any less consuming.
If anything, the years had only honed him sharper, carved every edge of him into something more dangerous.
The moonlight didn’t do him enough justice last night.
Broad shoulders filled the space easily, his shirt rolled at the sleeves, veins visible down his forearm where his watch gleamed faintly in the light.
And his eyes, the same dark gaze I remembered, were only heavier now, steadier, more controlled.
They didn’t just watch me. They stripped me bare, peeled through every layer of composure until I swore he could see every lie I’d ever told myself.
My grip tightened on the edge of the counter. And he, of course, noticed, glancing down for a moment before his gaze moved back to my own.
“You slip back into roles so easily,” he said after a moment. “Perfect daughter-in-law. Loving mother. Dutiful fiancée. Even last night, you almost convinced me—”
My heart skipped a beat.
“Don’t,” I whispered, and he furrowed his brows.
“Don’t what, Vieve?“ he asked softly, leaning a little closer, his nickname for me slipping off his tongue with ease. Only he’d shortened my name like that.
Hearing it again after so many years made my head spin.
His cologne, faint but distinct and familiar, lit up every loose fiber in me.
“Pretend you don’t know what I mean? Or pretend it didn’t happen? ”
“You’re so insufferable.” I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore what I was feeling, my body lighting on fire as a smile pulled at his lips.
“So both then?” His low chuckle rattled through me, and I knocked some sense into my head, pulling myself together as I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Don’t you have a company fix?”
He shrugged. “Why would I need to fix a company that’s already mine?”
“What?” I blinked, confusion bleeding through my voice.
“The company always belonged to me. I’m not here to do charity work,” he said simply.
“For years, I was the castaway—the bastard son, the mistake, the man not worthy enough in the eyes of the people he loved.” I stayed firm as he stood to his full height, towering over me as he took a step closer.
“They buried me the second it suited them. Pretended I never existed.” His gaze held mine, unflinching.
“Now they’re on their knees, hoping I’ll save them after they brought their legacy to the ground. ”
“But you won’t,” I whispered.
“Why would I?” His voice stayed calm, the kind of calm that always frightened me more than shouting ever could. “They erased me. And now they’re facing their own mistakes.”
He leaned in slightly, enough that I had to tip my head back to hold his gaze. “But you…” His eyes dragged over me, steady, consuming. “You didn’t just watch it happen. You let them bury me. You kept silent.”
My chest ached, heat creeping up my throat. “I didn’t have a choice—”
“There’s always a choice, Vieve.” My knees weakened. “And you chose him. You chose silence and to let me die in their eyes.” I blinked hard, my hands trembling against the counter.
“And then… You climbed into his bed like it was the only place you’d ever belonged.” Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, but I couldn’t look away.
“You let them take everything from me. And then, you took what was left.” His voice was low, steady, but it cut deeper than if he’d screamed.
My breath came unevenly. He was so close I almost thought he was taking it from me. “I—” I whispered, and he tilted his head.
“You what, Genevieve? You didn’t mean to?”
“Reid…”
He shook his head. “It’s too late for apologies…You think you can play mother, fiancée, perfect little Newman trophy wife while pretending I never existed?”
My knees nearly buckled.
“You can’t,” he whispered, false sympathy laced in his voice as he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting my cheek.
“Because every piece of it is mine. The man you call your future husband. The child you call yours. The company that can’t hold for much longer.
” His eyes pinned me, merciless. “Even you…”
I flinched, feeling his hand on my cheek, wiping away the lone tear I didn’t even know had fallen. “All of it. Stolen from me.”
He let the silence stretch, his thumb grazing the edge of my jaw before he pulled his hand away. “I’m not here to save your family, Vieve.” His voice dropped, final. “I’m here to take back everything that was taken from me. Starting with you.”
The words weren’t tender. They weren’t about love. It was a promise. A vow that he would ruin me. That he would take everything. And there was nothing I could do to stop him.