By His Vow: A Billionaire Arranged Marriage Romance

By His Vow: Chapter 21



The warmth of Kingston’s hand resting on the small of my back continues to radiate through me.

It’s been the same since the moment he first held my hand at the committal. He hasn’t left my side once. His support has been unwavering. And I’m not sure how to feel about that.

I thought it was going to be Lori who held me up today. Never in a million years did I think I’d be craving Kingston’s strength instead.

“Here you go,” the girl in question says, passing me another glass of champagne.

“Thank you,” I say in a rush, immediately lifting it to my lips. The bubbles pop against my lips before coating my tongue and then rushing down my throat.

It’s my fourth glass…possibly my fifth.

As much as I don’t have any intention of getting blind drunk to deal with all this bullshit small talk with people who may or may not be lying about actually liking my father, there is no way I can do it sober.

Kingston continues to talk to the couple before us as if he’s known them all his life. What do I know? Maybe he has. I don’t recognize them, although they seem to know exactly who I am.

Miles is currently with Michael, schmoozing with Warner Group’s senior management. And Mom…well, she got so drunk that she had to be taken to bed for a lie down about thirty minutes ago.

A few people have started to leave. Hell knows that I’m more than ready, but despite not wanting to be here, it seems wrong for me to be one of the first to disappear, especially with our host out of commission.

“Not gonna lie, Tate, this is a fucking snoozefest,” Lori teases as she looks around the room.

“Pretty sure that’s standard after a funeral, Lor.”

“Yeah, I know. I just thought…I dunno, all these millionaires might be a little more…charismatic.”

I can’t help but laugh. Lori might have been a big part of my life for quite a few years now, but she hasn’t actually dived into this side of it. She’s attended a handful of events with me, but there is usually some kind of entertainment as a distraction. This right now is…well, dull.

“Money doesn’t buy everything,” I deadpan, avoiding pointing out that almost everyone around us smashed through the millionaire threshold a while ago.

The wealth in the room doesn’t even bear thinking about. It’s hard for me to comprehend, let alone Lori, who grew up in a small town in California with barely a dollar to her name.

“Nope, personalities are free.” Lori laughs, draining her glass.

“Well, I wish you all the best with everything,” the man talking to Kingston says, dragging my attention back to them.

“Thank you. I’m sure it’s going to be beneficial for everyone involved.”

He turns into me, our bodies close. He’s doing a fantastic job of ensuring that everyone who cares to look knows there is something going on between us.

Add that to the images that have already surfaced of us outside Warner Group together, leaving the club, and then at dinner last night, and I’d say we’re doing a pretty good job of making this fake relationship look like it’s blossoming nicely.

Bitterness twists at my insides. Sure, having him beside me today has been nice…more than nice. But knowing that we’re deceiving everyone—that we’re playing a twisted game to ensure we both get what we want—makes me feel a little sick. No, a lot sick.

All of this for a house. For a company acquisition.

It’s insane. Totally insane.

But then he leans closer and his warm breath tickles down my neck, making my brain short circuit and forget all rational thoughts in favor of filthy ones that shouldn’t have a place in my head.

“Did you want to get out of here?” he whispers in my ear.

Goosebumps erupt and a shudder rips down my spine.

I might not be able to see him, but I feel his cheek move against mine. He felt it, and the smug jerk is smiling.

“I’m not sure if I can⁠—”

His hand lands on my hip and he tugs me closer.

“You can do whatever it is you want to do, Tatum.”

Excitement flutters in my belly as he amps up the charm and ups the ante. “Is that right?”

“Yep,” he agrees. “Right here, right now, you can do anything.”

“Hmm…the possibilities are endless.”

“They’ll be even more so when we get out of here and are alone.”

My body temperature soars. Gaining his sole attention shouldn’t have this effect on me. He’s my brother’s manwhore of a best friend. I should be immune to his charms.

I pull back so I’m able to look into his eyes. They’re dark. Hungry. The sight of his desire makes my own quadruple.

“Can you take us home, please?” I say, trying to keep my head.Belonging to NôvelDrama.Org.

The champagne is working its magic, and everything feels just a little too possible right now.

“I’ll take Lori home,” he states. “I have other plans for you.”

Placing my hand on my waist, I pop my hip, giving him all my sass and defiance.

“On second thought, we’ll just call an Uber.”

His eyes narrow and even more butterflies take flight in my stomach.

Oh, I love this game.

Maybe the next twelve months won’t be so bad after all…

As we pull up on our street, Kingston is still touching me.

My threat of calling an Uber went down about as well as I expected it to, and not ten minutes later did we say goodbye to Miles, who looked thoroughly pissed off about our sudden departure, as Kingston was practically dragging me away from the house.

I felt bad. Miles doesn’t deserve to deal with all of this alone.

“Who organized the funeral?” Kingston had whispered in my ear as Lori climbed into the back of his car.

He knew. He always seems to know.

He was right. Judith and I organized almost every second of today. Miles was too busy picking up other pieces that had shattered around our feet when we got the call to say that Dad had gone.

But that doesn’t give me the right to abandon him today.

I sigh as Lewis brings the car to a stop. Every inch of my body aches. All I want to do is pull on my pajamas and curl up on the couch with Mrs. Griz and some very strong alcohol. Maybe a tub of ice cream to go with it.

Kingston’s hand grips my thigh harder as Lori grabs her purse and twists around to leave.

“I’ll meet you upstairs,” Lori says, looking between us. I’ve no idea what she can see on my face, but Kingston’s expression is hard.

She’s gone before I get a chance to say anything or even attempt to follow her.

“You’re not going up there,” he states the second the door has closed.

“It’s my home. All I want to do is–”

“No, it’s not your home anymore.”

“King.” I sigh. I have nowhere near enough energy to deal with his bullshit right now.

“Very soon the press is going to be printing our engagement photos,” he explains, making my stomach tighten with anxiety.

I’ve never been one to dream about my big day and my perfect man. Sure, I want to find the one, but anything beyond that…I’ve always been happy for it to be a surprise. But learning that my wedding is going to be taken out of my hands in every single way—including the man I’m to marry—isn’t exactly something I’m anticipating.

“It’s time, Tatum.”

I shake my head.

Why today? Why can’t we do this tomorrow?

Because you’ll be strong enough to put up a fight.

He knows that I’m at rock bottom, and he’s going to use it to his advantage.

His eyes search mine. If he’s trying to see just how broken I am, then I fear he isn’t going to have to look very hard.

“Let’s go home, baby.”

A lump crawls up my throat. It’s so huge that I don’t stand a chance at swallowing it down.

My nose itches as tears burn the back of my eyes.

His grip tightens again in silent support, and I finally manage to rip my eyes away to look out the window and to my building.

“I’ll need to get some things,” I whisper. Mostly, I need to get Griz. I know Lori will look after her, but there’s no way I’ll settle long-term without her.

“I’ll take care of everything. Come on,” he says, wrapping his arm around my waist and tugging me into his body. “Let me look after you, baby.”

I take in a shaky breath as I accept my fate and snuggle into him.

His heat warms me from the inside out and damn if it doesn’t make everything just that little bit better.

“We’re going home, Lewis,” he tells the driver, forcing a lone tear to spill from the corner of my eye.

This is it. This is the beginning of a whole new life.

One that I’m not sure I’m ready for.

Tatum. Baby.” King’s deep, raspy voice flows through my ears, bringing me back to reality.

I take a second to try to remember where I am.

His arm is still wrapped around me, and I have the steady beat of his heart in my ear.

Sucking in a deep breath, I’m hit with a shot of his manly scent.

“Let me look after you, baby.” His words from earlier come back to me and the lump of emotion returns to my throat.

“We’re home,” he says, lifting his hand from my waist to gently stroke my head.

“I-I’m awake,” I rasp.

He doesn’t say another word as he helps me from the car and then leads me into his building.

The doorman nods at us before we step into the private elevator.

I might not have been to his place before, but I’ve spent enough time at Miles’s penthouse to have an idea about what I’m walking into.

The air around us crackles with the electricity that I’m becoming used to when we’re alone as we ascend through the building.

“I’ve made a few changes since our agreement,” he says, shattering the silence.

“Changes?” I ask, still a little too sleepy to understand.

“New furniture,” he clarifies.

“You don’t need to do anything special for me. No amount of new furniture is going to make me want to live here with you.”

I glance to my right just in time to see his reaction to my comment.

“You can’t honestly think just because I agreed to this charade that I’m actually happy about it?”

His shoulders square as the lights on the panel in front of him let me know that we’re almost there.

My new home…

“Trust me, Tatum. You’ve fully expressed your displeasure over all of this.”

The second the doors part, I march out as my irritation with this man gives me a second wind.

I’ve no idea where I’m going, but I figure there will only be so many options. A private elevator to the penthouse doesn’t usually lead to a series of over-the-top apartments.

A huge set of walnut double doors with shiny chrome fittings await me.

“Go on,” Kingston encourages. “I’ve already given you permission to access everything.”

“Lucky me,” I mutter as I grip the handle and watch a little light turn green before the locks disengage and allow me to push the door wide open.


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