By His Vow: A Billionaire Arranged Marriage Romance

“Hey, Griz,” I say, scooping up my ginger kitty the second I step into my apartment just over an hour later.

She purrs sweetly as I scratch behind her ears before I march straight into the kitchen to find her favorite treats. She needs all the treats after the way she clawed at Kingston this morning.

She certainly is my girl, that’s for sure.

“Tatuuum,” Lori calls from her bedroom.

“Yeah, hang on,” I shout before grabbing a bag of Doritos and shaking a few into Griz’s bowl, or, to use her full name, Mrs. Grizabella Von Meowington. Yes, I was very, very drunk when I named her. But to be fair, it totally suits her. She’s such a princess. She’d have turned her nose up at anything more…common.

With an extra scratch behind her ear, I tell her what a good girl she is before going in search of my bestie.

I thought I needed this night out before I left the office, but after my last interaction with Kingston and then an hour of watching my mother drown in her own misery, I really fucking need this night out.

Last night, I allowed myself to wallow after yesterday’s discoveries. Tonight is about making the most of what I have, even if it’s imminently about to change.

My days of living as a single girl with Lori are soon to be over, so I need to make the most of it while I can.

I’ve no doubt that someone took a photograph of Kingston kissing me outside the offices earlier. News of us getting close is probably already spreading around the toxic world of social media as we speak.

I come to a stop in Lori’s doorway, unsurprised to find her hanging half upside down as she diffuses her hair.

“Hey,” I shout, aware that she can’t see or hear me.

She turns her hairdryer off and gently swings her hair around as she stands.

I roll my eyes at her. Even after all these years of friendship, her dedication to her curly hair astounds me. It’s probably why she’s still single. She doesn’t have time for a man; she’s too busy twisting, twirling, and scrunching among many, many other things.

Her eyes light up when they land on me before a wide smile spreads across her lips.

“What?” I ask nervously before moving into her room and flopping onto her messy bed.

It’s a mistake. The second my back hits her memory foam mattress, all my body wants to do is sleep.

Thankfully, what Lori shows me two seconds later perks me back up.

“This,” she says, holding her cell above me so I can clearly see the photograph I was just thinking about. “Care to explain why Kingston Callahan has his lips on you after being here first thing this morning?”

I groan, feeling nowhere near prepared to explain this whole shitshow. I can barely think about it without wanting to crawl into a dark closet and completely shut down.

“You fucked him, didn’t you?”

“What?” I gasp, pushing myself up in the middle of her bed and snatching her cell so I can look closer. “No, I have not fucked him.”

“But you want to. I always fucking knew you⁠—”

“Lori, I do not want to fuck him.” Liar. “He is the most irritating man I have ever met in my entire life.”

She raises a knowing brow.

“I don’t,” I repeat, aware that I’m not convincing her of anything.

I stare at the image of us. The lighting is perfect with the evening spring sun illuminating us in the middle of the sidewalk.

He looks…well, fucking model-worthy, like always, and I look… pretty damn good, actually. I’m wearing my sexiest skirt—total coincidence that it was the next thing in my closet this morning and not chosen for any specific reason. Nope. No reason at all.

He has one hand on my waist, holding my body against his, and the other is cupping my jaw as he presses his lips against my skin. But neither of those things is a surprise. I was there; I felt his burning touch as if he were a naked flame. What shocks me are his eyes.

They’re closed.

It gives the kiss a whole new level of tenderness, of intimacy.

I swallow thickly, unable to rip my eyes away. No wonder we drew such a crowd. I’m enthralled, and I was there.

“Then you’d better have a good explanation for that, because from what I can see⁠—”

“We’re getting married,” I blurt, unable to keep it in any longer.

Lori’s jaw drops and she stumbles back as if my words physically struck her.

“Y-You’re…you’re getting m-married?” she asks in utter disbelief.

Putting her cell to sleep, I throw it to the end of the bed and push to my feet.

“I need alcohol for this conversation.”

“You don’t fucking say,” she mutters, immediately following me from her room and down to the kitchen. “Vodka is in the freezer.”

Pulling the door open, I grab the bottle as she places two shot glasses on the counter.

I twist the top and slosh the ice-cold liquid into the glasses.

“Bottoms up, baby,” I say, wincing the second I hear his voice in my mind as I say “baby.”

Fuck. I need to drink him out of my system.

How is it possible that he’s managed to get under my skin quite so quickly after that announcement yesterday?

I lift my glass and swallow it down in one go, loving the way it burns all the way down my throat.

I haven’t had anywhere near enough to eat today to be doing shots, but fuck it.

There doesn’t seem to be much in my life I can control right now, but this…this I can.

“Start talking,” Lori demands as I refill our glasses before hopping up on the counter.

Griz saunters over and begins nuzzling me for more Doritos.

Leaning over, I reach for the half-empty bag and offer it up for her.

In a flash, she has her head in the bag and is chomping away on her cheesy obsession.

“Dad…” I hang my head, unable to believe I’m actually about to say these words out loud. “He stated in his will that if I want the cottage, I’ve got to spend the next year as Kingston’s wife.”

“Why? Why the fuck would he demand that?”

I shrug. “To control me? To stop me from catching the first flight to England and never looking back? Sorry,” I add when hurt washes over her features.

“That’s some bullshit, Tate.”

“It is what it is,” I mutter, swallowing my second shot.

“You don’t have to agree, you know that, right?”Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

“I’ll lose everything if I say no. My job, my life. This place,” I say, letting her know that this affects her as well.

“So, you’d get another job. You’re Tatum Warner. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“Lor.” I sigh, appreciating her positive thinking but totally unable to believe it. “He wouldn’t have made it that easy. He’s probably blacklisted me with every marketing company in the country.”

She grimaces, unable to argue.

“We can get another apartment. We can⁠—”

“Lor,” I beg.

“Do you want the cottage that badly?” she asks, silently urging me to just let it go.

I nod. “I do. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted.”

She hangs her head. This isn’t news to her. Since the moment we met at college, I’ve told her about my dream place in England, about my plans to relocate when the time is right.

She doesn’t understand, and I get why. But it’s important to me. That cottage is the only place I’ve ever truly felt at home. It’s where my heart is.

“This is fucked up. What does he get out of it?”

“Aside from the obvious?” I ask, throwing my hair over my shoulder and sticking my tits out.

“Yeah, aside from stealing my best friend from me,” she says sadly.

“They’re merging Callahan Enterprises and Warner Group. Kingston stands to gain quite a bit. Miles, too, if they play it right.”

“But what about you?” she argues.

“I don’t want any of it, you know that.”

“Another,” she demands, holding her glass out.

She stares at it for a few seconds, deep in thought, before throwing it back.

“Something isn’t right here. Your dad would never have willingly handed both you and the company over. Miles is more than capable; it doesn’t need Callahan interference.”

“He would have handed me over without a second thought, Lor. He probably expects us to fall in love and for me to pop out the next Callahan generation to take over the world.”

She tilts her head to the side in thought.

“It’s not going to happen. Kingston Callahan is the furthest possible from my type. He’s an egotistical, power-hungry, g⁠—”

“God?” she interrupts.

“Asshole is more like it.” I scoff, jumping down from the counter and moving toward my room to get ready.

“So, what happens now?” she asks, following me.

I explain the plan Dad laid out in his will as I strip down to my underwear and then slip into my bathroom and turn on the shower.

“Two weeks? He’s going to propose in two weeks?”

“We’re going to fall hard and fast, apparently,” I call back as the room begins to fill with steam.

“I guess when you know, you know.”

“I’m in,” I say, letting her know that it’s safe to enter. We might be close, but we do have some boundaries.

“We’ve got to be married for a year, and then the cottage will be signed over to me. I’ll get to keep my trust fund and everything else that should be mine.”

“What about the company? You have a stake in that, surely?”

“Nothing was said about it.”

“That’s bullshit. Just because you have a vagina, it doesn’t mean you’re incapable of being senior management and kicking ass at the top.”

“We both know that, but it doesn’t matter. Even if they offered it to me, I wouldn’t want it.”

I don’t need to look over my shoulder to know she’s narrowing her eyes at me. This has been a topic of conversation between us more than once.

She’s never believed that I’d turn down the job of CMO, if I were ever offered it.

“So you’re just going to throw away your chance at meeting the one for the next year while you play house with your worst enemy?”

“It could be worse,” I muse, although I don’t sound very convincing.

“What does Miles think about all this?”

“You saw his face, right?”

“Oh shit. Miles did that?” she gasps. “Fuck. I bet that was hot.”

“Lori,” I shriek.

“What? I would happily watch those two fine specimens of men rolling around and throwing punches. I’d totally help clean up their wounds after, as well.”

“Of course you would, whore,” I laugh.

“Takes one to know one,” she counters. “Oh, speaking of. I want all the details when you finally get to ride that stallion.”

“Not happening,” I state.

“What? Why not? You have to get something out of this bullshit. He’s got the reputation of a freaking Adonis. If I were you, I’d be making very good use of that. It’ll soften the blow of being married to the prick, that’s for sure.”

“I’m not sleeping with him.”

She laughs.

“Lori, I’m being serious.”

“So what? You’re going to be married, making it look like you’re following Daddy’s orders while you’re both fucking everyone else?”

I cringe. “I’ve got to be monogamous. Tell me about your date,” I beg. “I can’t talk about him anymore.”

“My date was great. Everything I hoped for. And he was hung, too. Fucking epic,” she says in a rush. “Kingston has to be faithful too, right?” she asks, swinging right back around.

“Towel,” I demand after killing the water and holding my hand out.

“Tatum,” she warns.

“I don’t care what he does, Lor. He can fuck his way around Chicago and get dick rot if he wants, so long as he doesn’t try sticking it in me.”

You are such a fucking liar, Tatum Warner. Be honest, you want to climb that man like a tree.

Wrapping my towel around my body, I step out of the shower and come face to face with my smug best friend.

“I give you a week before you fall under his spell, and his body.”

“Jesus, Lor. I do have some self-respect, you know.”

She quirks a brow.

“What? I do. What time is Cory meeting us?’“

“Eight at Maxies. Changing the subject isn’t going to work, though,” she calls as she backs out of my room, ready to return to her hair.

No. I fear that telling myself I’m going to be celibate for a year isn’t going to work either, but a girl can try.