By His Vow: A Billionaire Arranged Marriage Romance

“TATUM,” I bellow as I race into the apartment.

Coldness engulfs me, letting me know that she isn’t here. But it’s not enough. I need to see it with my own eyes.

The ground floor is empty, so I make a beeline for the stairs, leaving Miles to loiter behind me with concern twisting up his face.

“TATUM,” I shout again, desperate to hear her soft voice call back.

But she never does.

I crash into the bedroom like a madman and scan the space.

But it’s empty, cold, and when I move into the bathroom, the sight of the clear vanity finally forces me to accept reality.

She’s gone.

Pain rips through my chest as I stand there, feeling like the world is crumbling around me.

I’ve no idea when her presence in my life became such a huge part of it, but the hole she’s just left is bigger than I ever thought possible for one person to leave behind.

I don’t realize Miles has joined me until his deep voice echoes off the walls around me.

“What did you do?”

His words cut through me like a knife straight through my chest.

“Me?” I ask, spinning on him.

“Yes. You. What did you do to make her run?”

His expression hardens. There is no doubt in his mind that this is my fault.

“I didn’t…fuck,” I breathe. “I didn’t do anything. I⁠—”

“She wouldn’t just leave, KC. All these years, she’s put up with all the shit Dad threw at her. She’s got almost everything she always wanted. She agreed to this fucking sham of a relationship, for fuck’s sake. She wouldn’t run for no reason.”

I stand there feeling more useless than I ever have in my life before. My chest heaves and my fists curl at my sides.

He’s right; she wouldn’t just bail. She’s been through too much to get this far to throw it all away. But that doesn’t mean I did anything to push her to it.

“Everything was fine. I’ve no idea what—” My fingers thread through my hair and I pull until it hurts, desperately trying to make sense of this.

Sure, I’ve been working all the hours of the day recently, but she understands why. Hell, she encourages me and supports me. Does all the things a good partner should do when life is stressful. Or at least in my opinion, that’s what they should do.

What they shouldn’t do is hand in their resignation out of the blue and fucking disappear without any warning.

“I told you not to fucking hurt her,” Miles growls angrily.

I stare at his dark, furious eyes and swallow nervously.

I want to argue and tell him that I haven’t hurt her. But we’d both know that I’d be lying.

This whole fucking situation I agreed to before Jonathan even passed is hurting her, let alone anything I’ve done since.

Sharing those images of us at the cabin with the press was a stupid move. And I’m pretty sure it’s something I’m going to regret for the rest of my days.

Our relationship might have started as a contract, a business deal, but that isn’t how we should be treating it. It’s a marriage, a union, two people who have to live together and trust each other.

She’s my partner, my other half.

My wife.

She’s…

Fuck.

I scrub my hand down my face as my heart continues to race.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here, man. I’m trying. I’m fucking trying.”

“You’re telling me,” he mutters under his breath, not helping the situation in the slightest.

“She won’t have gone far,” I reason before marching back out to the bedroom, noting the absence of the ball of ginger fluff that’s usually taken up residence in the middle.

“Fluffpuff,” I say as Miles steps up beside me.

“W-what?”

“The fucking cat,” I mutter. “It’s gone.”

“Griz?”

“Yes. She’s taken him.”

“Her,” he corrects.

“Whose fucking side are you on here? It’s a fucking cat; who cares if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“Tatum’s,” he answers, making my brows pinch in confusion.

“What?” I bark.

“You asked me whose side I’m on. I’m on Tatum’s, always.”

I scoff. “So much for fucking bro code.”

“She’s my little sister, man. She always comes first.”

She fucking does for me, too. It’s a fucking miracle, but I manage to swallow that thought before it bubbles out of me.

“So, where’s she gone? Home?” Miles asks.

“This is her fucking home,” I cry.

He glances at me but refrains from saying a word as he pulls his cell from his pocket and hits call on her name again.

I’m not sure why he bothers; she hasn’t answered a single call since he discovered her resignation sitting on his desk.

I move through the home I’ve lived in for years, but suddenly, it feels wrong.

How can one person have such an impact on another’s life in such a short time, let alone make them feel different about the place they come to hide from the world?

My eyes land on the soft pink blanket and the scatter cushions on my couch. My chest tightens to the point it’s hard to breathe.

She’s changed her mind.

After everything we’ve been through together recently.

My stomach knots as a mixture of concern, shock, and anger battles within me.

“Bro, you coming?” Miles asks.

The side of my face burns as he stares at me while I pointlessly look at the couch.

But as much as I want to respond, I can’t. I can’t find any words.

He moves back into the room as images of the two of us curled up right there play out in my mind.

“KC?”

“S-sorry, I-I’m coming.” I turn to face him but find him even closer than I had expected.

“You like her, don’t you?”

“W-what?” I ask, my head spinning.

His eyes hold mine as he rolls his lips between his teeth. He’s battling with what he wants to say, but as much as I want to demand he spits it out, I’m also terrified of having to answer him honestly.

“Tatum. You like her.”

“I mean, yeah. She’s cool. Less annoying now she’s grown up,” I hedge.

“Kingston,” he warns.

“Fuck. Miles. What do you want me to say here?”

“That you care,” he fires back.

“Of course I fucking care. She’s Tatum. Your little sister.”

“So you’re telling me that you look this wrecked,” he says, waving his hand in front of my face to highlight whatever it is he’s witnessing right now, “because she’s my little sister. You’ve always been a really shitty liar, KC. How about you man the fuck up and tell me the truth.”

My mouth opens and closes as I try to find some words that will pacify him. But I fear that the only ones that will work aren’t ones I’m willing to admit to myself yet, let alone out loud to Tatum’s brother.

“Miles,” I finally sigh.

“No. I’m not playing this fucking game, King. You want her, you feel something for her, then you fucking own it. Tate deserves to have a man who’s willing to fight for her, not a pussy who isn’t strong enough to own his feelings for her.”

I stare dumbstruck at my best friend, unable to form words as I consider the possibility that there was some kind of admission within his statement that he’s okay with this thing between me and Tatum as long as I own it.

But can I?

Have I fallen for her?

Fuck. Why am I even asking myself that question?

I know the fucking answer. I have for a while.

Miles is right. I’m just too much of a pussy to admit it.

Reaching up, I rub the back of my neck, the words I need to say getting stuck in my throat.

Looking up again, I find his eyes. I never realized how similar they are to Tatum’s until recently. They’re just a shade darker.

Swallowing down my apprehension, I hold his stare and confess the truth.

“I’ve fallen for her.”

I’ve no idea what I expected him to do. Punch me again, I guess. But smiling is not where my imagination went.

“What?” I snap, still bracing myself for the hit that should have followed my statement.

His smile grows.

“You’re a fucking idiot. Come on,” he says, grabbing my upper arm and dragging me across the room.

I let him lead, but only because I’m so fucking confused.

“Let’s go and get your girl.”

With my heart in my throat, I take back control of my legs and walk out of the apartment with the intention of ripping the entire city apart until we find her.

Miles is right; she can’t have gone far. Not that halfway across the world would be too far for me to find her.

She has to know that, too.

She’s significantly underestimated me if she thinks I’m going to take this lying down. If she thinks her leaving isn’t going to affect every single thing about my life.

You fucked up here, Tatum Callahan.

And the second I find you, I have every intention of showing you just how much of a brat you’ve been this time.

The sound of Miles’s fist raining down on Tatum and Lorelei’s front door echoes down the silent hallway of their building.

“Tate, open up. It’s just me,” he lies. “Shit,” he curses when nothing but silence greets his most recent demand.Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

“You do know she has a peephole and that she’ll be able to see that you’re lying if she’s looking through it,” I point out like an asshole.

“Do you have a fucking better idea?” he snaps, clearly losing patience fast with his little sister’s antics.

We should be working. We should be continuing with safeguarding all our futures, but no, we’re chasing my little brat.

“Actually, I do,” I state, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a set of keys. One of which unlocks Tatum’s front door.

Selecting it, I push it into the lock.

Miles’s chin drops. “She gave you a key?”

“Something like that,” I mutter as I throw the door open and march inside.

“Tatum,” I call, my voice hard and demanding.

This time, there is a reply, although it’s not the soft, seductive sound of my wife’s voice.

It’s an angry hiss.

I march into the living area to find the cat standing guard in the middle of the kitchen island with her hackles up and her teeth bared.

“Hi, Fluffpuff, good to see you too.”

At my voice, her hissing gets louder and more violent. Her entire body tenses as if she’s about to launch herself at me and claw my eyes out.

“Ah, Grizzy, is Kingston being mean?” Miles sings, ignoring the feral look in its eyes and lifting her into his arms.

And she lets him.

What the actual fuck?

“Grizzy?” I ask.

“Hell, yeah. We go way back, don’t we?” he asks the fucking cat while tickling behind her ear and making her purr like a sweet little kitten.

“Right. That’s just fucking great. Could you ask her where the fuck my wife is, please?”

“She’s a cat, KC.”

I shrug before taking off in the hope of finding some kind of clue in her bedroom.

I come to a stop in the doorway, immediately struck with not only her sweet scent but with memories of the night I brought her back here after we signed the contract in Jonathan’s office.

She was so fucking wasted, she had no idea I’d even picked her up, let alone carried her out of Maxies and got her ready for bed.

The prospect of being married to me drove her to that.

The only way to come was to get fucking wasted.

I might have had her stuff moved to my place, but the room is still full of things and also still looks like a tornado has torn through it. But then, I guess that’s just Tatum. It’s exactly what she’s done to my life. Torn through it, caused chaos, and ensured that it’ll never be the same again.

I step farther into the room, my images morphing to those of the next morning when I found her hungover and regretting her life choices. The morning I had my first introduction to her delightful pussy…

I shake my head, searching the counters for something of use.

It’s not until I find a pinboard on the wall full of old photographs that I come to a stop.

Miles’s footsteps thump down the hallway as I stare at an image of the two of them as children. They’re in the most incredibly colorful garden.

My stomach knots and my heart seizes.

“Have you found anything?”

“Yeah,” I mutter. “I think I know exactly where she is.”