The Love I Begged For Was Never Real novel Chapter 70

Gideon stared at Nora's trembling form, watching her brow furrow in drunken discomfort.

He raised a hand, wanting to brush a stray lock of hair from her shoulder, but forced it back down.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looked away, breaking the heavy silence with a stiff command.

"We're heading back. You've had too much to drink. You're staying at the manor tonight."

Nora didn't reply. She kept her eyes shut, leaning her temple against the freezing glass, utterly drained of the will to speak.

"To the manor."

He barked the order at the driver.

The driver whipped the car around at the next intersection, speeding toward their marital home.

The sedan rolled to a smooth stop in the grand driveway.

Gideon pushed his door open, circled around the back, and yanked her side open. He didn't forcefully haul her out this time; instead, he stood towering over her.

"Get out."

She didn't budge. Sitting in the shadows, she wrapped her arms defensively around her chest.

"I rented an apartment. This isn't my home anymore."

Leaning heavily against the far door, she stayed exactly where she was.

Keeping her eyes squeezed shut, she pretended he didn't even exist.

She had moved out of this hellhole half a month ago and refused to spend another second inside.

Watching her passive-aggressive rebellion completely obliterated the last shreds of his patience.

He leaned straight into the car, his large hand finding the buckle of her seatbelt. With a sharp click, it retracted.

Nora's eyes flew open. She immediately shoved at his broad shoulders, desperately trying to push him away.

"I'm going back to my own place."

Her voice was raspy from the alcohol, her tone unyielding.

She had zero doubts he would follow through. With the terrifying power of The Hayes Group, crushing a boutique design studio would be child's play. She had fought too hard for this job to let her own drama ruin everything for Arthur and Janie.

Dropping the fight, she lay rigid on the bed. She turned her head away, glaring blankly at the nightstand in silent surrender.

Gideon released her and straightened his posture.

He stood by the bed, watching her shoulders tremble faintly.

For some twisted reason, the contrast between the girl who used to chase him with an eager smile and this hollow, silent woman sent a sharp spike of agitation through his veins. He glanced down at his hands, the phantom sensation of her slender waist still burning against his palms.

She had lost an alarming amount of weight.

Turning sharply, he left the room and summoned the housekeeper.

"Prepare some hangover soup and a light snack, then take it upstairs."

He paused, adding stiffly, "No ginger. She hates the smell."

Mrs. Gable shot her boss a startled look before quickly bowing her head and rushing off to the kitchen.