Page 17 of Tell Me It’s Forever

“You heard me. I saved you from a huge mistake, man. She’s damaged goods. A pathetic, insecure charity case. I spent months dragging her around, and trust me, she’s not worth the effort.” He doesn’t even have the sense to look intimidated, only smirks while rolling his shoulders.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” I growl, my voice dropping an octave, low and dangerous. The air between us seems to freeze.

“Oh, come on!” Bryce scoffs, throwing his hands up in a theatrical display of annoyance. “You actually want her? She’s a nobody! I came here to talk about my start-up, and find my billionaire father groveling after the most basic⁠—”

“Listen to me very carefully, Bryce,” I interrupt, stepping directly into his personal space, inches from him. “Because this is the absolute last time you will ever hear my voice.” I look at him, really look at him. I see the arrogant smirk, the complete absence of remorse. The entitlement bleeds out of every single pore. The realization hits me like a sledgehammer straight to the chest.

He’s a lost cause.

I didn’t raise him. I didn’t know he existed until he was seventeen, but for years, I’ve bent over backward trying to build a relationship with him. I covered his debts, paid for his mistakes, and tried to teach him how to be a man. And to think I blamed myself for not being there, carrying a silent weight of guilt that he learned to weaponize with terrifying precision.

“We are done,” I say flatly. The anger in my voice is gone, replaced with an icy, absolute finality that makes his smirk flicker.

“What?” Bryce blinks.

“I’m done,” I repeat, resting my hands on my hips as I stare him down. “The luxury condo? I’m taking it back. The car? It’s mine. Any and all money you thought you could ever get from me, it’s gone. I am not paying for a single breath you take starting right fucking now.”

“You can’t do that! You owe me back support. You owe me—" Anger flashes across his face.

“I don’t owe you a damn thing,” I snap, cutting him off. “I paid my legal dues years ago. Everything else has been a courtesy from a man who wanted to believe his son had a soul. But as far as I’m concerned, you can go live on the streets where you belong. You deserve to sleep in the dirt after treating anyone, especially her, the way you did.” His face turns a blotchy red. His composure is crumbling, replaced by an ugly desperation.

“You’re cutting me off for her? She’s a fucking joke, Dad! I fucked her first, and now you’re taking my—” I don’t let him finish. My right fist swings in a swift arc, connecting with the side of his jaw with a crack that echoes through the air. Bryce lets out a pathetic yell. The impact lifts him off his feet, sending him sprawling across the wood floor in the foyer. He clutches his jaw, groaning, blood trickling from the corner of his swollen lip.

The pieces of the puzzle click together. All of Genevieve’s hang-ups, her insecurities, the oversized clothes, the way she flinched when I spoke too loudly at first. The hesitation, the fear of not being enough, it’s all because of him. Bryce tried his hardest to break down the sweetest, most breathtaking woman I have ever known.

And he brought it all right back. A wave of self-loathing hits me. I grab him by the collar, drag his dead weight across the threshold, and throw him out of my house.

“Get off my property. If you ever step foot on this land again, if you ever go near Genevieve, or if you even so much as breathe her name in public, I will use every dollar, every lawyer, and every backdoor avenue to put you in a fucking cage. Get out.” I don’t wait for a response. I step back inside, slam the door shut, and throw the deadbolt in place.

My breath rattles in my chest, and my knuckles throb, but my mind is laser-focused. I pull my phone out, fingers flying across the screen with ruthless efficiency. The first one is to my lead accountant, Kevin.

Gavin: Cut Bryce off immediately. No more paying for anything.

Kevin: On it.

The next one goes to my lawyer, Marjorie.

Gavin: Bryce’s condo, put it up for sale. Evict the occupant at the end of today. And while we’re at it, revoke the trust.

Marjorie: Working on it right away. Charging you triple for interrupting my Sunday.

Gavin: I expect nothing less.

Now that those ties are severed, I toss my phone on the entry table and run up the stairs three at a time. I strip off my sweats the minute I’m back in the master bedroom. Genevieve’s warm spun sugar scent, her clothes, her toiletries are scattered here and there in the room. Christ, I need to get her back. I pull on a pair of jeans, shirt, and socks, shove my feet in a pair of shoes, and sprint back down the stairs.

I only slow down to grab my phone and my keys, only to stop when I see a message notification.

Dante: Don’t make me regret this. Alex picked your woman up off the side of the road and took her home, where Genevieve insisted on being left alone. If you fuck this up, you’re a dumbass.

I walk through the house until I hit the garage and go through the motions of opening the door, climbing into my SUV, and hitting the ignition. While doing all of these things, the only thought I have running through my head is getting to Genevieve. I’ll get on my knees, spend the rest of my life making sure she knows how incredible she is, how loved she is, and how undeniably she belongs to me.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

gavin

Gavin

Idrive like a man possessed, tearing through the city streets, cutting through traffic until I pull up to Genevieve’s townhouse. My SUV’s transmission is probably toast after slamming it in Park. Fuck, a car is replaceable. What isn’t is Genevieve. I climb out of my vehicle, sprint up the front steps, and my fingers punch at the keypad door code with an urgency before I barge right through her door.