Chapter 12- The Meeting

_Saturday_

Olandria called early the next morning.

Genevieve was still in bed; sunlight was just beginning to slip through the curtains of her room when her phone vibrated on the nightstand. She checked the caller, and it was from an unsaved number.  Genevieve thought about not answering the call, but she decided to answer it.

“Miss Genevieve, good morning!” Olandria’s voice burst through the phone, bright and urgent. “I was just calling to remind you about our date today.”

Genevieve's face brightened when she heard the voice. “Good morning, Olly, I haven't forgotten about our date,” she replied, sleep still evident in her voice. She sat up, pushing her hair back. 

“I already reminded Dad about the outing this morning so he wouldn’t forget.” Olandria announced.

Genevieve laughed lightly. “You’re very thorough.”

“Daddy said I got that from Mommy,” Olandria replied without hesitation.

“Well,” Genevieve said carefully, “then I suppose I should start getting ready.”

“We’re going to the park, the one with the ducks and the big swings. I will be there by 10am prompt.” Olandria said, excitement evident in her voice. 

“I know the park. I will be there by 10am.”

“I’ll see you soon!” Olandria replied. And then the call ended.

Genevieve stared at the phone for a brief moment. She hadn’t expected this to happen so quickly. She didn't expect Dominic to agree so easily to her hanging out with Olandria. She felt a warm, unsettling feeling in her chest at the thought of seeing Olandria again. Genevieve stood up from her bed and started getting ready. By 9:30am, she was already done with her breakfast and was dressed and ready to meet up with Olandria at the park. She ensured that she was dressed casually—with white sneakers, a blue top, black jeans trousers, and her hair packed to the back.

The park was already very lively when Genevieve arrived. Children ran across the grass, laughter ringing through the air. Parents stood nearby with coffee cups and smiles as they watched their children. The trees were full and green; leaves made rustling sounds as the breeze blew. 

A sleek black SUV was parked near the entrance. Olandria spotted Genevieve first. She waved enthusiastically as she came out of the car, nearly tripping over her feet as she ran toward Genevieve; a bodyguard followed her while the driver stayed near the car.

“Miss Genevieve!” Olandria threw her arms around her hand without hesitation.

Genevieve stiffened for half a second—then relaxed, her arms coming up instinctively around the child’s small shoulders. “Good morning, Olly. You look really nice.” She said with a smile.

“I picked my dress myself,” Olandria announced, pulling back to show off her pale yellow sundress with tiny green flowers on it.

“It’s beautiful,” Genevieve said.

The bodyguard cleared his throat softly. “I’ll remain close, ma’am. Mr. Rourke’s instructions.”

“No problem,” Genevieve replied smoothly.

They walked together into the park. They fed ducks, Olandria laughing every time one came too close. They took turns on the swings—Olandria insisting Genevieve push her higher until her laughter turned breathless. They shared snacks from a small picnic basket Genevieve's chef had prepared. For a while, Genevieve forgot everything else.  She forgot the club. She forgot the company. She forgot the game against Dominic Rourke. She felt normal, free, and genuinely happy.

At one point, they sat under a large oak tree, Olandria leaning against Genevieve’s side, her legs stretched out in front of her.

“My mommy used to bring me here,” Olandria said suddenly.

Genevieve’s body stilled.

“She was really nice,” Olandria continued, staring up at the branches above them. “And really beautiful. Daddy says she had the best smile.”

Genevieve swallowed. “That sounds like someone very special.”

“She was,” Olandria said simply. “She used to tell me stories about when she was young. And about a club she went to.”

Genevieve’s heart skipped.

“A club?” she asked lightly.

Olandria nodded. “I don’t know what kind. She never said. But she told me she was going to take me there one day when I was older.”

Genevieve kept her voice steady. “Did she say why it was important?”

Olandria shrugged. “She said it was where women helped each other. Where they learned new things.”

Genevieve felt unsettled. Olandria's mother belonged to a club; she wondered if this club was related to the Widows Club and if that was why Celeste was really interested in Dominic Rourke. Genevieve knew that Celeste asking her to infiltrate Dominic's world wasn't just because of Charles but also for her own personal gain.

Before she could ask another question, the bodyguard stepped closer and spoke. “Miss Rourke, we’ll need to wrap up soon; Mr. Dominic just called.”

Olandria pouted. “Already?”

“Yes, miss,” the bodyguard responded.

Olandria turned to Genevieve. “Can we hang out together again?”

Genevieve hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, we can. If your father allows it.”

Olandria smiled, satisfied. They said their goodbyes, and Olandria headed towards the car with her bodyguard. As the SUV pulled away, Genevieve stood alone for a moment, the echoes of laughter in the park still ringing in her ears.

----

Later that evening, she arrived at Ravenhurst Lane for the Widow's Club meeting. She didn't feel the how she felt when she first arrived there, she felt calmer. All fourteen women were present, seated around the long table. The air was heavy with perfume, ambition, and something darker. One by one, reports were given by each widow. Some contained reports of seduction, others contained how they used the children of their clients against them, and the rest contained how they stole incriminating videos and documents and used them to blackmail their clients.  

Genevieve listened and observed.

When it was her turn, Celeste smiled. “Congratulations, Genevieve,” she said smoothly. “CEO of the Holloway Group. Charles chose well.”

A ripple of polite acknowledgment and congratulations moved through the room. Genevieve smiled at the women and thanked them.

“And Dominic?” Celeste continued. “How close are you now?” she asked.

Genevieve met her gaze. “I’m getting closer to his daughter; we hung out today, and I believe I'm gradually getting into his world.”

The room was quiet.

Celeste’s smile sharpened. “Good. But we need more.”

Genevieve frowned slightly. “More?”

“Yes. You have power now,” Celeste said calmly. “Money. Influence. Access. You can easily infiltrate his world now. If you need to sleep with him, do it.”

The words landed like cold water on Genevieve. Her spine straightened. “Are you suggesting I sell my body to Dominic Rourke in exchange for information?”

Celeste tilted her head towards her. “I’m suggesting you use what you have to get what you want.”

“And if I refuse?”

Celeste’s gaze darkened. “Then you lose.” She leaned forward. “We don’t know what Dominic or Charles was hiding. Winning this game matters. And I’m giving you three months to get us all the information we need. “Bring us something substantial, or the mission goes to someone else.” Celeste finished.

Three months. That was all Genevieve had.

Genevieve nodded slowly. “I understand.”

As the meeting continued, her chest felt tight—not with fear, but with resolve. And the realization that the game she was playing was no longer just about answers hit her.

It was about survival.