Page 63 of Discretion at Its Finest

For some reason, I could see this state fitting Reid. On the east coast, every billionaire wanted to be the most important in theroom, always competing for the top spot. But here on the west coast? The King of Silicon Valley didn’t have any competition.

As we descended the jet stairs, I followed him through the landing area. California air was much warmer and drier, brushing against my skin.

The sky was a bright, impossible blue. These skies didn’t exist back home. And on the tarmac, a sleek black SUV waited, engine humming quietly, windows tinted dark enough to reflect the entire runway back at me.

The driver stood beside the open door, posture straight, eyes alert. Behind him, the flight attendants who escorted us out were already handling our luggage with efficiency.

“Hello, sir. Everything is prepared as you requested. Alexander is waiting for you at headquarters.”

“Good,” Reid answered, already sliding into the backseat.

The man stuck his hand out for me to grab. “Ms. Devereaux, should Mr. Kaufman be unavailable, I’ll be responsible for seeing you to your destinations. I go by Charles.”

Despite his politeness, having a designated driver felt like another piece of Reid controlling another aspect of my life without my permission.

“Nice to meet you, Charles,” I managed, forcing a polite smile.

“Please,” he chuckled lightly, guiding me into the SUV with impeccable manners, “the pleasure is all mine.”

He shut the door behind me, adding with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes—

“And welcome to Silicon Valley.”

As we drove, the city rose around us. Glass high-rises, tech campuses stretching miles, sleek buildings with names I’d onlyever seen in financial reports. Every passing mile made the truth more real. I was in Reid’s world now.

The world he built from the ground up. Without Gregory, without the Newman name… without me or any of the people who’d abandoned him.

In New York, he had been the castaway bastard son. The threat that no one wanted to acknowledge.

Here?

He was the crown, the king forming a name for himself that was almost too powerful. Anything that had to do with innovation, growth, tech expansion, he was the head of the snake.

Reid watched the city through the tinted window, unfazed, jaw clenched, his side profile carved from focus and perfection. He didn’t look like the boy they’d tossed aside. No, this man was different. This was a man who crawled out of the ashes of their empire and built one of his own.

In the row ahead, Eugene bounced excitedly, his nose pressed to the window. And he looked truly happy.

He was enjoying this surprise trip much better than I thought he would. He hadn’t mentioned Gregory’s name once since we left New York. I think it’s safe to say if he was away from his father for another week, he might just forget about him entirely.

The SUV turned into a private drive toward the residence that was all steel and glass over the horizon.

Reid’s penthouse wasn’t on the skyline…it was the skyline.And inside, every detail was intentional: dark wood floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, no photographs or sentimental clutter—only precision and control. The epitome of success in a life he built alone.

Charles set our luggage down and dipped his head. “I’ll be downstairs, Mr. Kaufman. Ms Devereaux,” he added gently before he let himself out.

Eugene stepped forward, sneakers tapping across the polished floor as he drifted toward the windows. Cara, who was lingering with him, had taken his suitcase to unpack his belongings. He paused beside Reid, small hand brushing the fabric of Reid’s pant leg to get his attention.

“You live here, Uncle Reid?”

Reid stopped mid-movement, his expression shifting immediately into one that was much more warm and open. “Sure do, bud.”

Eugene’s eyes widened, soaking in the impossible height, the endless windows, the city glittering like a fallen constellation below. “This is the highest house ever,” he whispered.

Reid huffed a small laugh. “You think so?” he asked, crouching to Eugene’s eye level, showing effort and care. “You’ll like the view from your room; you get to see the bridge over the water.”

Eugene gasped, “My room? I get my own room?”

Reid’s mouth curved even more. “Of course.”