Page 86 of Discretion at Its Finest

“Vieve,” I murmured, lowering my head to hers, “Newman Trust is going under investigation. The government is seizing everything. I need you to focus.”

“I’m trying.” Her voice was thin, frayed at the edges.

“I know you are,mon amour,” I said, the endearment slipping out before I could stop it. “But right now, I need you to try a little harder.”

She swallowed hard. My jaw tightened as I watched. I brought her chin up with a finger until she looked at me, all wide-eyed, terrified, breaking in ways she didn’t want me to see.

“I need you by my side for this,” I said quietly. “But I need you calm. And I need you to trust me to handle this.”

Her lips parted, the beginning of an argument, a confession maybe? Hell if I knew. But I could see it: the hesitation in her eyes, the fracture running straight through the center of her.

And I couldn’t blame her.

The idea of trust between us was still broken. The foundation of loyalty we used to stand on had been cracked, partially rebuilt, only to be shattered again. Part of her wanted to lean into me. The other part didn’t know if she was allowed to… if I was allowing her to.

I stepped closer, closing the space she kept trying to retreat into.

“Vieve,” I said, low, steady, her name almost a warning. “I know what I said. I made you question whether I trust you. And I know my intentions coming back are not pure.”

Her eyes held mine. I could see the pain, a flash of the tears she’d shed in the kitchen hours ago.

“It doesn’t change what I need from you right now,” I continued. “You don’t have to trust the man I was,” I murmured. “You don’t even have to trust the man standing in front of you…”

Her breath caught, chest lifting in a tight, shaky inhale.

“But I need you right now.” I stepped in closer, voice dropping to something darker, more deliberate. “For once I need you to stay with me.”

The quiet, brutal truth sat between us. Not said outright, but she heard the echo of my words anyway:Because the last time I needed you, you didn’t.

“Can you do that?”

She blinked, practically stunned at my admission before she nodded quickly. I placed a lingering kiss on her forehead before pulling away.

“Get dressed; we leave in ten.”

Chapter thirty-three

Reid

The car ride to Newman Trust was a blur, the tension of the unknown lingering ahead. And when we arrived in the lobby, the chaos was inescapable. FBI jackets, Treasury personnel, analysts roaming the floors with documents and files being confiscated left and right. We made our way to the elevator. When we reached the executive floor, Alexander was already pacing by an empty conference room. Approaching him with Genevieve on my tail, I opened the door beside him, catching his attention.

“Inside now.”

They followed behind in a haste.

“Reid—Jesus Christ—finally.” The door closed behind him and he locked it quickly. Turning back towards us, he ran a hand through his hair. “Another $250 million cleared yesterday. No flags, no issues, it was routed perfectly. And not even twenty-four hours later—” He pointed back toward the chaos outside. “These fuckers show up.”

Genevieve flinched at his abrupt tone. She’d only ever seen the polished, analytical version of him, not the one cracking underfederal heat. She looked at me, searching for my reaction. I kept my expression calm, shooting her a brief, reassuring glance before shifting back to Alexander.

“Then the transfer wasn’t clean.”

Alexander snapped, clearly at his wits’ end. “No, Reid, I handled every goddamn step. It wasclean. It was—” He stopped pacing, breath heavy, shoulders tense as his eyebrows stayed furrowed. “This doesn’t happen on a clean transfer. Not this fast.”

My brow lifted. “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying either the Treasury got impossibly lucky…” He hesitated. “…or someone tipped them off.”

My eyes narrowed as I stepped closer to him, my voice dropping. “Do they know what they’re looking for?”