Page 5 of Discretion at Its Finest

Maybe she even believed in that lie. She’d learn the truth soon enough.

Because she tookeverythingfrom me.

Now… it was only right I returned the favor.

Chapter three

Genevieve

Eugene snuggled into me deeper as the low hum of his favorite show played. He had needed a nap this afternoon and found comfort with his head in my shoulders and legs and arms wrapped around me. I didn’t mind it. Not when my own arms were wrapped around him the whole afternoon, afraid he’d disappear if I let him go.

Every so often, I’d nuzzle my nose in his hair, smelling the faint scent of baby shampoo and lavender that clung to him. Just to remind myself that my son was still in my arms.

I stared ahead, not focusing on anything really as I did my best to keep my thoughts from spiraling.

He was too young to understand the weight of what was coming. Too young to question why the adults around him were whispering more than they used to. Why Daddy was always tired. Why Mommy looked over her shoulder more often.

I was the one who understood. And I still couldn’t bring myself to face the impending reality.

“Mommy?” His voice was groggy, barely above a whisper. I looked down, brushing the hair from his face.

“Lovebug? You awake?” I murmured softly, and he hummed, snuggling into me.

“…Hungry,” was all he said, and I couldn’t help the smile that came to my lips as I kissed his cheek.

“Of course, honey. It’s almost dinner time, too. I’ll get you a snack to eat for now.”

He nodded sleepily, and I stood, carefully holding his slowly waking body to me as I walked to the kitchen. Sitting him at the island, I grabbed a few graham crackers to give him before I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a small carton of milk, pouring it into his favorite cup with dinosaurs on it. He munched happily on the crackers, crumbs catching on his lips, humming along to some tune only he knew.

Then the front door opened. Footsteps sounded in the hall, heavier and more than the rhythm I was used to with Gregory. His voice carried first, in a calm but desperate register. “…I told you, Dad, this isn’t the time—”

“It’s exactly the time,” Raymond cut him off. “You’re running out of options, Gregory.”

My stomach dropped.

Gregory appeared in the doorway, loosening his tie with one hand, jaw tight. Raymond trailed behind, expensive coat draped over his shoulders, eyes taking in the room like he owned it. Which, in a way, he did.

Eugene’s face lit up. “Daddy!”

Gregory’s tension melted just enough as he crossed the room to ruffle our son’s hair. “Hey, champ. You being good for Mommy?”

“Yes,” Eugene said around a mouthful of cracker, holding up his cup proudly. “Drinkin’ milk.”

“Atta boy.”

Raymond’s gaze softened slightly when it landed on Eugene and me before he nodded. “Gen.”

“Raymond.” My voice was steady, but I held Eugene a little closer, subconsciously trying to brace for the worst.

Gregory shrugged off his jacket, tossed it over a chair, and reached for the bottle of wine I’d set out earlier. “Let’s just eat,” he muttered, pouring himself a glass before he’d even sat down at the dining table.

Raymond took the seat at the head, like he always did, as I set the table, trying to ignore the tension between the two of them.

Gregory sat across from him, and I settled beside Eugene, cutting his food into small pieces before he began stuffing them in his mouth.

The clink of cutlery against porcelain filled the silence for a moment.

Finally, Raymond spoke. “The numbers don’t lie, Gregory.”