Fornever Yours Read Online Natasha Anders

Categories Genre: Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
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Gideon’s knees gave way and he found himself sitting on the couch, bile surging and stinging the back of his throat. She was never going to forgive him. She was never going to give him another chance. He had hurt her. And then he’d railroaded her when she couldn’t speak in her own defense, bullying her relentlessly.

“He said she told you about the contract.” Gideon’s voice was barely above a trembling whisper now, his hands were shaking and his palms wet with sweat.

“What contract?”

“The graphic novel is going to be published. I was offered a senior position as a full-time concept artist with the publishing company.”

“She alluded to the fact that the graphic novel was going to change things for you but refused to elaborate.” His father paused and then added, “Even after I threatened to destroy her career, she refused. She then, to all intents and purposes, told me to go fuck myself. I like her.”

“But how did you know—” Gideon—feeling punch drunk—turned to look at Nox. His reactions felt sluggish. “About the contract? How did you know?”

“It’s all over your writing partner’s social media, moron,” Nox sneered at him, and tossed back yet another measure of scotch.

“Why would you do this?” Gideon asked, despising himself right now. He should have trusted his initial instinct—that firm, resolute belief that Beth would never betray him. Instead, he had allowed Nox—and his own insecurities—to sow doubt and wreak havoc.

“Why?” Nox repeated bitterly. “Because despite everything I’ve done to improve this company, you’re still Dad’s fucking golden boy. You, who upped and deserted us, and rejected everything we stand for. He keeps track of your every move, keeps your framed art on his desk. While none of my achievements are ever acknowledged, not so much as a pat on the back, Dad.” He was now speaking directly to their father, who continued to stare at Nox gravely. “Not a job well done. I get engaged and you make your dislike of my fiancée crystal clear. Yet, Gideon shows up with some random woman at a party and you fawn all over her like she’s the most amazing person you’ve ever met.”

Their father sighed again and diverted his gaze to Niall who still sat silently watching everything in mute shock.

“What about you? You have anything to get off your chest while we’re here?”

Niall started shaking his head, then sighed and said, “I think Gideon’s artwork in that graphic novel is fantastic. If he’s getting a contract because of that work, then it’s well-deserved. And I think Nox needs therapy.”

“Fuck off, Niall,” Nox growled.

“I’m very serious. I think you need time off, I think you need to split up with Amber because she’s shit for you, and I think you need therapy to deal with your resentment of both Dad and Gideon.”

“And Dad,” he paused for a second, before continuing. “Nox just landed you a contract you’ve been after for years. Telling him he did a good job and praising him for it won’t kill you, for fuck’s sake.”

“Are we done with all the touchy feely shit?” Their father asked impatiently. He then focused his attention on Gideon. “Gideon, that woman is loyal to a fault. She had nothing but great things to say about you. You’re going to have to find a way to fix this, my boy. Because I’d like at least one of my children wind up with someone I find remotely tolerable. Nox, put that drink down, for fuck’s sake. Niall is right, you need time off and therapy. You also need to apologize to your brother for every single time you’ve sabotaged his life. Up to, and including, the shit you pulled today. But first, I need your help sealing this Damaso deal. It’s your baby, and you should close it.

“Now, shall we get back to your sister’s engagement party? I’m that eager to watch another one of my children run headfirst into yet another colossal fuck-up.”

Beth stared at the plain, brown A5 manila envelope in her postbox in blank confusion. It had only her name scrawled across the front, in very familiar handwriting. No address, or return address. She cast a look up and down the street, then at the house across the road. It was dark on the patio and she wondered if he was out there.

Watching her.

Before, the thought of Gideon watching her a had always sent a pleasurable little shudder of anticipation up her spine, but now she hated the very idea of it. She tucked her mail under her arm and wrapped her cardigan tightly around her body. It was freezing. The weather had taken an abrupt turn since her return from Franschhoek a week-and-a-half ago.

She went inside and quickly drew the curtains before switching on the interior lights. She hadn’t spoken to Gideon since that weekend. He’d started calling and texting the very next day, but she had blocked and deleted his number.


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