Page 34 of Discretion at Its Finest

I’d been hurt in the past, and I was probably hurting in this moment. For the last few years, that word had described how I’d felt every time I fucking thought about what they did to me.

I didn’t respond just yet, as my eyes drifted past him in thought to the glass wall of my office. And there she was.

Genevieve.

Walking past, spine perfectly straight, pretending she didn’t feel the heat of my stare on her skin. Like she wasn’t haunted by the memory of my hands between her legs, my name in her throat, my mouth on every inch of her body.

She wore a deep navy wrap dress. The kind that came undone with one tug.

Low-cut but modest enough, tied at the center, hugging her body like a fucking glove. Soft at the waist, tempting even. Easy to remove.Easier to bend her over in.

Something twisted low in my gut as I watched her hips sway effortlessly before she disappeared from my view. It was addictive. Dangerous even.

Maybe Alexander was right. I would be taking things too far.

But I didn’t care. She chose to hurt me. She watched them bury me and didn’t fucking flinch.

So now? She could drown in every consequence, face every grave she fucking dug herself into.

My jaw clenched. “I’ve already decided,” I said, voice low. “Add her to the agenda.”

Alexander looked like he wanted to respond, but in the end, he only exhaled a breath as he decided not to push further. He just nodded, turning toward the door to leave.

Chapter fifteen

Genevieve

My heels struck the floor with every step I took down the hall of Newman Trust and Financial Group’s top floor. It was louder than I’d intended it to be, and despite me wanting to disappear, I’d caught a glance from almost everyone nearby.

My fingers tightened around the folder of press statements I’d be presenting to the boardagain. I did my share of rewriting statements and monitoring PR disasters when I worked for my father’s family business. I finally thought I’d put that aside when I started my family and began to focus on me and my son.

Reid, however, didn’t think I was done, shoving me into a position to “moderate public relations.” As if anything I said or did could actually ease the nosey press and angry investors. Even if it did? Nothing mattered truly. Not when he was already planning to let it all burn when it finished serving him for whatever reason. And he wanted me on the front lines as a witness when it happened, feeling helpless in trying to fix the unfixable.

The hallway curved toward the executive wing and I passed the glass wall of Reid’s office, kept my head straight. I didn’t lookin but I felt his presence thick behind the glass, his gaze burning through my skin.

Regardless, I kept walking over to Gregory’s now smaller and so-called temporary office. Reaching the door, I pushed it open, hearing his desperate voice as he spoke into the phone.

“Just get me the investment portfolio. He wants to trace every dollar to know where it went and the return on investment.” The person over the phone spoke and he groaned, leaning back in his chair as he ran a hand over his face. “I don’t care what you need to do. Just do it.”

He ended the phone call, both his hands now running down his face as I knocked on the open door gently.

“How are you hanging in there?” I asked, closing it behind me.

His eyes finally met mine before he shook his head.

“By a fucking thread,” he groaned, looking back to the file in his hand. His desk was a mess of papers and half-drunk coffee, his tie loosened like he’d been fighting it all morning.

Sitting across from him, I sighed. “I know things are a little… heavy right now.”

“That’s a goddamn understatement.” He laughed bitterly, taking another sip of coffee, his eyes trained on the document. He didn’t ask me how I was doing… I doubt he would have even acknowledged me entering the room.

“He’s already turned the board against me,” Gregory muttered. “I haven’t been involved in any of the planning. No updates. No numbers. Nothing. He shoved me in this fucking shoebox like I’m some clueless intern.”

I stayed quiet for a moment, letting him rant and spiral yet again. That reluctant feeling to soothe him, to bring him down to earth… it wasn’t there for some reason.

“And my opinion means fuck all because he’s fucking ReidKaufmannow. Silicon Valley’s golden bastard.” His jawclenched again, the bitterness and anger radiating off him in waves.

“Greg…”