Page 99 of Discretion at Its Finest

“I’m pregnant.”

And my world went silent.

Genevieve. My Vieve. Pregnant. Again.

My pulse roared in my ears. My grip on the phone tightened, my breathing growing labored. Behind the glass, she lookedafraid, like she expected me to reject her, ridicule her, do something to make her even more afraid than she was now…

None of those instincts came. What came was darker. I dragged my gaze down her body, slow, involuntary,hungry… like I could already see it.

See the change. What wasmine. If this glass wasn’t here, she’d already be bent over the table after that confession. My voice was low when it finally came out, steady only because I forced it to be.

“…How far along?”

Her lips parted in a shaky exhale. “Seven to nine weeks.”

My Adam’s apple bobbed in my throat. My eyes flicked to her stomach, then to her neck, then back to her eyes. I couldn’t explain the rush of emotions surging through me. Happiness, anger, lust, joy, it all felt like a blur the faster my heart pounded in my chest.

And then she uttered the words that made it go still:

“I-I don’t know who the father is.”

Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper, and I was rendered silent. Because I knew the timeline. I knew the truth behind her hesitation.

She’d slept with Gregory once, out of obligation and performance that same night I watched her come undone from my gaze alone.

And after that? I was the only man inside her. The only man claiming her when her fiancé couldn’t even satisfy her. We both knew what that meant. But the implication… that sliver of possibility she still clung to for the sake of her image, her safety, the Newman legacy, the fucking press watching her every move… that was the part that mattered here.

I saw it all on her face. The hesitation, and fear. Hope she didn’t know how to express, excitement she tried to bury, guilt she didn’t deserve but carried anyway.

And I knew what I had to do. I had to say what needed to be said, the words that would put the much needed distance between us, protect her from me, from this place, from the men watching my every move.

“I don’t want to know.”

She blinked like she hadn’t heard me correctly. “What?”

My jaw clenched. “When you eventually find out… don’t tell me who the father is.”

Her throat bobbed, trembling with emotion. “Why?”

My grip strangled the phone.

Because if it’s mine, I’ll break out of here to get to you. If it’s Gregory’s, I’d probably do the same.Either answer would destroy us and I can’t let hope devour me while I’m trapped behind bars. Wanting her, that baby, the little family she always dreamed of would make me reckless in ways I couldn’t afford in here.

“Because knowing won’t change anything while I’m in here.”

“You don’t know that.”

But I did. I knew exactly what knowing would do to me. What it was already doing.

“Reid… Please.” Her tone was pleading now, but I didn’t give into it.

“Genevieve.” The mask was back, settling over everything that had cracked open in the last hour. “Go home.”

She was still talking when I set the phone down. I didn’t let myself look at her hand when it pressed against the glass.

I didn’t turn back as I stood. Nodding to the guard, I walked away from her for the second time in my life, telling myself it was the right thing to do, reminding myself I couldn’t be a part of her anymore, that I couldn’t want her anymore.

But this time… I wasn’t so sure I believed myself.