Page 71 of Discretion at Its Finest

My throat burned. “I love you, Lovebug,” I whispered, pressing another kiss into his hair. “So much.”

I stood before I could unravel completely, adjusting my purse and turning toward the door.

Cara watched me quietly, her expression soft, almost knowing. “Drive safe…” she said gently.

I nodded once, unable to trust my voice, and left before the weight of everything came crushing for the hundredth time.

The ride to headquarters passed in a blur of California sun, palm trees and glass buildings. Charles drove in silence, respectful as always. The city moved around us while my stomach twisted tighter with every block we passed.

When we pulled up to the tech campus, the familiar structure loomed overhead, cold and immaculate. Inside, the lobby hummed with efficiency. The security nodded as I passed, and as soon as I stepped onto his floor, Alexander appeared beside me. “You’re needed in the main conference room. Meeting’s about to start.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

The morning unfolded in a series of meetings that felt like torture.

Conference room after conference room. Reports, projections, contracts back to back. Reid was there for all of them. And he didn’t look at me once.

He sat at the head of the table, sleeves rolled, posture immaculate, voice calm and razor-sharp as he dismantled arguments and redirected conversations. He spoke over executives twice his age without raising his tone. He smiled when necessary. Nodded when expected.

Here, he was absolutely untouchable.

Every time he directed me to speak, his attention shifted elsewhere. To another board member or his notes… I think even at one point the paint on the wall behind me. He was ignoring me for good reason. And his silence hurt more than his anger.

By the third meeting, my thoughts were unraveling.

This was my punishment.

When the meeting was adjourned, I caught sight of him down the hall, now standing with Alexander and another executive. He laughed at something one of them said.

And when I tried for his attention, for just a minute when he was alone: “Reid—”

“Send the revised speeches to Alexander; I’ve got a meeting with legal in ten.” he remarked, already moving past me.

I ended up standing there, stupidly frozen like I didn’t know what to do next. And the rest of the day didn’t get any easier.

Once I’d finished going over the notes from the PR team, it was inching closer to late afternoon. The sun had begun its slow descent, casting long bands of gold across the glass walls as the elevators chimed less and less. One by one, offices emptied. Voices faded. The building dimmed into something quieter.

I should’ve gone back to his penthouse.

I wanted to kiss Eugene’s forehead, sit beside him while he rambled about comic books and superheroes and whatever small thing Cara did that felt monumental to him today. I wanted to feel normal again. Even if it was only for one evening. But when I returned to my desk and found the folded note tucked neatly beside my belongings, my body went still.

My office, 6:30.

—Reid

No explanation besides that.

Against my better judgement, I didn’t leave.

Instead, I stayed behind, pretending to work, opening files I’d already reviewed, rereading speeches and press notes I’d memorized, straightening stacks that didn’t need straightening. Anything to keep my hands busy, my mind from unraveling completely.

It was now 6:27.

Not that I was counting.

Over the last hour I played the sequence of events that led up to this point over and over again, my mind racing at what could happen at in his office tonight.

Would he throw me out? Tell me to pack my bags and leave his home, his life?Who’s to say he hasn’t decided to just stay here, not return to the Newman Trust chaos across the country and rip my son away from me?He had the resources and DNA to do it.Who’s to say he won’t make my life a living hell all because I deserve it?