Page 64 of Discretion at Its Finest

Eugene swayed on his heels like his whole body couldn’t contain the excitement. “Can I see it?”

“Cara’s setting it up for you now,” Reid said, straightening. “She’ll give you the tour.”

Eugene nodded eagerly and took off toward the hall, calling for Cara, his footsteps fading.

Reid didn’t move right away. He watched Eugene go with that same lingering softness in his eyes. For some reason… my heart pinched at the scene.

And when he turned to me, I saw it again: the hurt, the betrayal, the raw and bruising anger before he pulled the mask on again. Rendering me silent… and somewhat… confused.

Before I could even think further, he spoke. “Let’s go.”

Chapter twenty-six

Genevieve

The SUV curved into a private campus. We hadn’t just pulled into an office building: this was a kingdom.

Glass towers. Sculpted gardens. Security checkpoints that waved Reid through like royalty. His entire empire stretched in sleek, minimalist architecture; people outside paused, eyes widening when they recognized him.

This wasn’t New York or the failing Newman halls. This was his world and everyone in it bowed to him.

Making it to the main building, we entered the polished lobby before entering the elevator. We ascended smoothly, the doors opening to the private executive floor. Alexander approached, already rattling off schedules, meetings, planned legal briefings, everything Reid missed or needed to refine since he’d left the valley. And he absorbed every word like oxygen.

I absorbed almost none of it.

When we reached his office, Alexander pushed open the glass door. “Give me ten,” Reid told him.

Alexander nodded and disappeared into the conference suite. Reid set his briefcase on his desk, already pulling out reports,files, whatever he’d been reviewing in the span of our six-hour flight.

“Sit,” he ordered again, without looking at me, and I did without hesitation in the chair across from his desk.

He stepped to the far side of the room, sliding into a call with someone, his voice holding clipped commands, that CEO tone that was as powerful as it was absolutely terrifying. I could hear only half of it, but the urgency and dominance were unmistakable.

As I waited, I let my gaze drift.

His office had no photographs or personal artifacts that showed who he was. The emptiness of it felt cold almost.

His desk was sleek, organized, nothing out of place. But one folder wasn’t tucked into a stack. It lay slightly crooked, like he’d dropped it there in a moment of distraction.

The top page was facedown, but the corner of the second sheet peeked out, showing a name that was all too familiar.

Jamie Newman.

Curiosity piqued my interest, and before I could convince myself to mind my own business, I was reaching for the folder. My fingers slipped beneath the first page, lifting it just enough to see what lay beneath.

On the front of the page was a typed summary of the pages that followed:

Billing Summary: Oncology Department

Projected Treatment Costs

Surgery Estimate

Chemotherapy Cycle Adjustments

Palliative Care Costs

Line after line. Number after number. Bills no ordinary family could ever survive. Amounts that no ordinary person could pay without drowning and that no one had told me about. I neverthought to even question Jamie’s care costs… I thought her bills were somehow covered by whatever insurance she’d had.