Page 152 of Discretion at Its Finest

She looked down at the counter, a heavy sigh escaping before she spoke reluctantly. “Maybe I’ll talk to him.”

I hummed, sipping at my coffee once more. “Maybe you should.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Eugene enter the kitchen, low murmurs of his version of good morning escaping him, and Brielle, as if our conversation flew out of the window, stepped past him as she left to go sit at the table.God, she was stubborn.

Genevieve entered the kitchen, a small smile grazing her lips as her gaze landed on me and our son. “Good morning,” she said to me, and I placed a gentle kiss on her lips before she pulled away and walked cautiously over to Eugene.

“Good morning, Eugene,” she said gently.

He cleared his throat as he finished pouring his coffee. “Morning…” he said, almost nervously.

Genevieve kept the conversation light. “Did you sleep all right?”

He shrugged. “Slept as best I could.”

She didn’t say much in response given she herself hadn’t slept much either. “Tensions are still a little high with Brielle, I assume…”

Eugene glanced over to the dining room. “You could say that…”

“Soon, we should all sit for a discussion… answer questions, clear the air. But you should talk to her first.”

“Why?” he muttered, just as stubbornly as Brielle.

“Because she’s your sister and you love her,” Genevieve answered calmly.

I could see the screws in Eugene’s brain turning as he took a sip of coffee.

“…But she started it…” he muttered childishly.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

With a bit more convincing, Genevieve urged him gently over to his sister.

Once she heard his footsteps, her eyes flicked up, and their gazes collided warily.

Eugene cleared his throat, barely audible.

“…Morning.”

Brielle blinked, her lips pressed together. And for the first time this morning… she didn’t fight back.

“…Good morning,” she whispered back.

Beside me, Genevieve exhaled, a tremor leaving her body, her shoulders softening as Eugene sat down.

I wrapped an arm around her waist. “I’d say we got this parenting thing down pat.”

“I would hope so… Our children are in their early forties.”

I shook my head. “You’d think they were still four.”

That earned me the softest of giggles and a gentle kiss on the cheek.

We made our way to the dining room, sitting amongst the crowd they called family. There were too many names to recall.

I hadn’t known Killian’s ties to the Masahiko family were this close. I had contracts with their company that outlasted the late Masahiko, and here was his fully grown son, wife, and children sitting at the table facing me with no clue.

Across from me, Kimiko Masahiko sat beside Sterling Reynolds, future successor of Reynolds Capital Group, one of Silicon Valley’s most influential power players. The boy grinned at her, and she shoved him in the shoulder, cheeks pink.