By His Vow: A Billionaire Arranged Marriage Romance

Anger surges through me at the sight of another man touching Tatum.

No. He’s not just touching her. He’s fucking holding her.

Comforting her.

Before I can think about my actions, or calm myself down, I’ve crossed the room, fueled only by my need to protect her, to make her mine.

My hand wraps around his upper arm, and I drag him away from her.

Thankfully, he releases her. If he didn’t and dragged her with him, so help me fucking God.

“Kingston, what the hell?” Tatum shrieks as I throw the guy across the room, sending him crashing to the couch that sits beneath her window.

Ignoring her, I turn to the guy, looming over him as he fights to right himself.

The second he looks up, I recognize him.

He’s the guy Tatum was dancing with last weekend.

The guy she would have gone home with if it weren’t for me stepping in and taking what’s mine.

His eyes lift to mine, but unlike I was expecting, there is no fear, no hesitation as he stares back at me.

“She is not your wife,” he states coldly.

“Semantics. She will be. Soon. Very soon.”

A shadow appears beside me, but I don’t turn to look at Tatum. My attention is laser-focused on her friend instead.

My mouth opens to speak, but she beats me to it.

“You need to leave.”

A smirk curls at my lips, but when the guy moves, it isn’t in the direction of the door, and he’s no longer glaring at me but looking at Tatum.

Ripping my eyes from his, I focus on my fiancée.

“Me?” I ask in disbelief. “You want me to leave?”

“Yes,” she states fiercely, her hands resting on her hips.

I don’t need to look at her little friend to know he’s got a smug grin playing on his lips.

“But I was going to take you to dinner. Then we’ve got a meeting with⁠—”

“No, Kingston,” she spits, making me rear back. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Tatum, that’s not⁠—”

“You heard her,” the guy says, puffing his chest out and stepping between us. “She doesn’t want to go with you. I suggest you fuck off back where you came from. She is not interested.”

“The ring on her finger would suggest otherwise,” I happily point out.

His nostrils flare, and if I were to look down, I suspect I’d see his fists curled, ready to throw a punch or two in my face.

“Just go, please,” Tatum says, her voice quiet and broken.

Looking over the guy’s shoulder, I find her standing behind him with her arms wrapped around her waist and tears filling her eyes.

“Baby,” I breathe.

“No,” she spits, her voice much stronger than she looks.

The air crackles between us as our silent battle of wills continues.

“W-what’s going on?” I ask, confused.

She shakes her head, a bitter smile pulling at her lips.

“The photographs, Kingston.” She laughs again, but there is no amusement in it, only pain. “I-I thought—” She cuts herself off. “It doesn’t matter. We’re done here.”

“No, Tatum. We’re not done here. This isn’t⁠—”

“Leave, please.” The fight has gone from her voice. I hate it.

“Okay,” I concede, willing to give her some space. “But this isn’t over, Tatum. This is so not fucking over.”

I hold her eyes for a few seconds before looking back at her “friend.”

“You hurt a single fucking hair on her head, and I’ll make sure you regret it for the rest of your life.”

His mouth opens to respond, but I’ve no interest in his answer.

Instead, I spin around and storm out of Tatum’s office, leaving her behind.

Every single set of eyes still on this floor turns to me and watches every second of my lonely retreat to the elevator.

It isn’t very often I don’t get what I want, and I don’t fucking like it.

When the elevator doors open, they reveal a handful of Warner employees. A couple I vaguely recognize, but the rest are strangers.

One, a member of senior management, I believe, looks as if he’s about to say something, but one hard glare in his direction and he shrinks back as if he’s attempting to vanish into thin air.

Holding my head high and keeping my shoulders square, I draw in deep, calming breaths as the elevator descends through the building and releases me on the ground floor.

Again, the attention of almost everyone down here turns my way, but I don’t return any of their stares. My focus is on my car loitering at the curb.

Lewis steps out the second he notices me, but I’m faster and reach for the door handle before he can.

“Wait, you’ve got⁠—”

My eyes land on the woman sitting in the back seat, and I’m granted a moment of relief from the irritation of the past thirty minutes.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Callahan,” my visitor taunts. “Good day at the office, sweetie?”NôvelDrama.Org is the owner.

“Fuck’s sake,” I mutter lightly, although I can’t fight the smile that pulls at my lips.

“Get the fuck in, asshole. I think it’s time we caught up, don’t you?”

I glance at Lewis, who is also smirking, before climbing into the car.

“Long time no see,” I mutter as I get comfortable.

“Time makes the heart grow stronger, don’t you think, KC?” She winks, and I finally crack.

“Fuck. It’s good to see you,” I groan as I sink lower in the seat and tug at my tie, the facade of the hard-ass businessman shattering with every second that passes.

“So…” she starts. “You’re engaged, huh? I wasn’t expecting to see that when I woke up this morning.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, rubbing my hands up and down my thighs in the hope of ridding the unease that’s running rampant through me from seeing Tatum with another man.

I feel her eyes on me. My skin prickles with awareness, but I refuse to look at her, too terrified of what she’ll see in my eyes.

It’s been a very long time since we knew each other intimately, but still, she still has the ability to see more than anyone else.

“Just spit it out, Aubrey,” I hiss as Lewis pulls away from the curb. I haven’t told him where to go; I can only assume that he’s following orders from the woman sitting beside me.

There aren’t many out there who would try to take control when it comes to me. But Aubrey Kendrick is one of them.

“You’re on edge. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you anything but completely sure of yourself.”

“Gloat away. It doesn’t happen very often,” I mutter, hating that she’s witness to this right now.

But equally, aside from my brothers, or now Tatum, Aubrey is the only one I trust enough to see me when I’m not at my strongest.

“Me? Gloat?” She gasps, pressing her hand to her chest. “I would never.”

“Pfft. Where are we going?”

“Good question,” she says, tapping her bottom lip in thought.

Suddenly, she scoots forward and speaks to Lewis.

If I cared, I could listen and learn our destination. But I don’t.

My head is still back in Tatum’s office.

“Okay, sorted,” she says, sitting back beside me. “So, Tatum Warner. Your best friend’s little sister. How and when did all this come about?”

I glare at her.

“Why don’t you tell me? It seems that you already know all the details.”

For a lot of years, I had no idea how Aubrey seemed to know everything. She’d find me in places I’d never expect. She’d walk up to me like she was expecting to see me while I stared at her in shock. It was fucking weird.

But then one day she decided to trust me with the truth, and everything started to make sense. Why she was hanging around with the corrupt businessmen my father associated with. Why she seemed to be dating men at least double her age when I knew for a fact that she didn’t have any interest in them.

“What?” she asks innocently. “I would be a really shitty friend if I weren’t keeping tabs on what’s going down in your life.”

“Some might consider it being a normal friend, Aubs,” I counter.

She scoffs and waves me off. “I’m not going to lie, there was a moment when I thought hell had frozen over. I mean, the great Kingston Callahan getting married. But then, I did some more digging.”

“Aubs,” I warn. “I thought I told you not to do that shit.”

“What? Sometimes I just can’t get over my curiosity. Especially when it involves my favorite billionaire,” she mocks.

“I need alcohol for this,” I mutter under my breath, knowing full well that she won’t miss it. Aubrey misses nothing.

“Well, lucky for you, we’re heading to the perfect place.”

A few minutes later, a familiar restaurant appears beside me and things feel a little more possible.

The best whiskey and steak in the state. That is exactly what I need right now. Maybe hold the steak.

“Brilliant,” I say, climbing out of the back of the car the second it comes to a stop, but before I march toward the entrance, I lean back inside and demand Lewis return to the office and do whatever it takes to ensure Tatum gets home safely.

“Good evening, sir. Do you have a reservation?” the young guy says, stopping me from inviting myself to select a table.

“No.”

“Oh,” he says awkwardly, shrinking under my gaze. “Well, I’m sorry, but⁠—”

“Mr. Callahan, how wonderful to have you back. Are you looking for a table?” Rob, the owner, says, interrupting his young sidekick.

“That would be wonderful,” I say as Aubrey steps up beside me.

“Right this way then. Harry, please can you get a bottle of Macallan for Mr. Callahan and his guest,” he says over his shoulder as we move toward the back of the restaurant to the private area Rob has set up for some of his best-paying diners.

“Oh, to know people in high places,” Aubrey teases as I glance back to see the red-faced server running toward the bar like his ass is on fire.

“Here you go,” Rob says, gesturing to a booth with high-backed bench seating and some fancy indoor plants to ensure total privacy from the diners on either side of us.

“Your drinks will be right over. I’ll be right back with some water and to take your orders,” he says after handing over the menus.

I place mine straight on the table, not needing to read it to know what I want.

In seconds, two glasses and a bottle of their finest Macallan appears before us. The poor kid’s hand shakes as he pours us both a measure. It’s not helped by the way Aubrey stares up at him, batting her lashes and turning the charm up to one thousand.

I kick her under the table, silently chastising her, but I also can’t help laughing.

She has this innate ability to lure in men of every age, culture, and religion. It’s a gift. One I’m not sure she’s happy to have, but she uses it to the best of her ability nonetheless.

“Thank you so much,” she purrs the second he successfully puts the bottle down without spilling any. Honestly, it’s a miracle.

She smiles at him as he backs away, only just catching himself from tripping over his own feet and crashing to the floor.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” I mutter before taking a sip of my drink.

Fuck. That’s good.

She shrugs. “It’s fun.” She throws back her drink without so much of a wince before slamming the glass on the table and staring me dead in the eyes. “So, tell me everything.”