By His Vow: A Billionaire Arranged Marriage Romance

“Stop here,” I demand as Kingston pulls his cell from his pocket and scowls at the screen. One quick glance lets me know it’s his Mom. I’m so not going there this morning.

Sitting forward in my seat, I get ready to escape the car I had little choice but to get into a little over ten minutes ago.

“Keep going,” Kingston demands like the epic asshole that he is, letting me know that he’s listening to everything despite being distracted.

Has he not already ruined my morning enough?

“Lewis,” I purr, dropping my voice so it’s low and husky. “Please, could you pull up here?”

“Do not use that tone with him,” Kingston snaps.

“Oh, but it’s okay for you to use it with me?” I counter.

“You’re mine. Not his.”

“Careful, Kingston. We’re only one day in and your jealousy is showing.”

His lips purse in anger.

“I am not⁠—”

“Just here would be great. Thank you so much, Lewis,” I say, diving for the car door before the fuming man beside me can stop me.

“Tatum, I swear to fucking God,” he huffs behind me before muttering to Lewis, “Don’t say anything.”Content rights by NôvelDr//ama.Org.

“I didn’t say a word, Boss,” Lewis says as I reach the coffee shop door.

The second I step inside, the scent of rich beans hits my nose and my mouth waters.

Caffeine.

I get in line, my body aching for a hit that’s going to help get me through the rest of the morning.

My head is still pounding steadily behind my temples and my stomach is now growling, desperate for some food that isn’t pureed what…seaweed and rabbit food?

I sense him before I feel him. His presence, even when he’s behind me, is powerful and almost too much to take. But knowing he’s approaching doesn’t stop my entire body from flinching when his arm wraps around my waist and drags me back into him.

“Do you defy me for fun, Tatum?” he whispers in my ear. The rush of his warm breath sends a shiver racing down my spine.

I swallow thickly as he holds me tighter against him, letting me feel just how hard he is in all the right places.

“You sure seem to enjoy it,” I snark as the server calls, “Next.”

“Hi, I’d like a cap⁠—”

“Green tea and a granola yogurt,” Kingston interrupts.

I shoot him a scathing look over my shoulder before turning back to the server.

“Ignore him. I’ll have a cappuccino with a double shot, a pain au chocolat and a cinnamon bun. And it’s Tatum,” I add.

I pay and attempt to move so I can collect my order, but the solid wall of muscle behind me doesn’t allow me to move with his giant hand locked on my hip.

“What is wrong with you? Can you for once just be normal?” I hiss.

“You need to eat better,” he chastises.

“No, what I need is to be left alone to make my own decisions. I am an adult. He may have handed me over to you like a prized freaking cow, but I can assure you, I do not need looking after.”

“I’m not sure I agree.”

“I don’t care,” I snap, finally breaking free of his hold. “Go and talk it out with Lewis. I’m not interested.”

I storm off, keeping my back to him. But he never leaves. His stare continues to burn into my skin while I wait for my order and then all the way back to the car, which he follows me into.

“Here,” I say, thrusting the stupid green tea at him. “I hope you choke on it.”

“I didn’t actually want—” he starts, looking down at the takeout tray I pass to him.

“Then you shouldn’t have ordered it. Lewis, can you please take me to my office? Fast. I’ve had about as much of your boss as I can stomach today.”

Without any argument from the infuriating man beside me, Lewis takes off into the morning traffic.

Usually, I would wait until I got to my desk to eat my pastry to protect the Uber drivers’ cars. But seeing as I don’t feel the need to offer Kingston the same courtesy, I open the bag and take a massive, unladylike mouthful, ensuring I rain crumbs everywhere.

He doesn’t say a word, but I’m more than aware of his attention and the fact that I’m seconds away from watching steam billow out of his ears.

Good. I’m so fucking glad that I can annoy him just as much as he does me. At least we’re on the same page with something.

I’ve just finished by the time we pull up out front of my office building, and I make a show of licking my fingers before brushing off my skirt. Gathering my purse, coffee, and second pastry; I reach for the door.

“Wait,” Kingston growls, making me pause long enough for Lewis to open the door for me.

“Thank you,” I say as I step out.

The polite side of me wants to turn around and say goodbye to Kingston, but the inner bitch he seems to unleash with just his presence alone wins out.

Tugging my purse strap higher onto my shoulder, I hold my head high and step forward in an attempt to look ready for work.

In reality, my head is spinning from the events of the past six days. I’ve no idea how I’m going to accomplish anything, but I’m willing to give it a shot.

I expect to hear the door closing behind me, but when it doesn’t, my curiosity gets the better of me and I turn to look back before reaching the doorman.

“What are you doing?” I blurt as Kingston stands from the car and does his suit jacket up before taking his briefcase from Lewis.

“I have a meeting,” he informs me before stepping up to me and placing his hand on the small of my back once again as if it belongs there.

“Who are you—” I cut myself off. It’s a stupid question. He’s here to see Miles.

Richard’s words from the day before ring loudly in my ears. Kingston and Miles are to work together to finally merge both companies and move forward; bigger, stronger, as one.

Motherfucker.

He’s my boss now. And soon-to-be husband.

Could life actually get any worse right now?

It makes sense. For years, the two companies have worked side by side. Separately, they’ve been very successful.

But together…

We could completely dominate the hospitality and tourism sector if we played it right.

We…

I almost laugh at my stupid thoughts. Even if I wanted to be a part of it, I would never be given the opportunity.

Sure, my surname grants me certain privileges in this building.

But I’m not one of “them”.

I’m not a man in a powerful suit up on the top floor of this building.

I came to terms with the fact that I’d never be as important as them years ago. I’m fine with it. It just stings every now and then.

“Good morning, Miss Warner,” Garrett, one of the doormen, greets as we pass before turning his surprised eyes on Kingston. “Mr. Callahan.”

Kingston might not be a member of the staff here, but that doesn’t mean that people don’t know who he is.

Hell, the entire city knows who the Callahan brothers are.

They’re notorious.

Gorgeous. Wealthy. Charismatic. Sexy.

Three of the most eligible bachelors Chicago has to offer, and women want to try their hand at taming them.

I mean, sure, I like a challenge as much as the next woman, but putting an end to the Callahan brothers’ manwhoring ways isn’t something that’ll be on my to-do list anytime soon.

The eyes of almost everyone in reception follow us as Kingston refuses to remove his hand and guides me toward the elevator as if I don’t know where it is.

I’ve been navigating this building almost all my life. It’s been a very long time since I’ve needed an escort.

There might be a small group of people who want to get into the elevator, but the second they see us—okay, him—approaching, they part like the Red fucking Sea, allowing us to step inside the second the doors open.

And to my utter horror, they don’t follow us inside.

When the doors close, it’s just the two of us.

“We have a board meeting this morning. But we should be done by lunch.”

“I already have plans, thanks.”

I keep my eyes locked on the floor numbers, wishing they’d move faster to my floor.

“I wasn’t asking. I was⁠—”

“Good,” I snap, breathing a sigh of relief when level thirteen lights up and the doors open. “Have a good day, sir. Try not to make anyone cry.”

I’m out of the enclosed space and marching toward my office before he gets a chance to respond.

With an accomplished smirk playing on my lips, I walk through the marketing department with my shoulders back and my head held high.

Everyone watches me with curious eyes.

I’ve been here since my father’s passing was announced, but not to work.

No one other than senior management knows what kind of relationship we had, so I can only assume they all expect me to be an emotional wreck incapable of working.

Well, if that’s the case, they’re about to get a shock.

“Ten minutes, my office,” I bark at my team. “I want an update about where we are with our latest campaign.”

A round of agreements rings through the air and I take off toward my office, the heat of their confused and concerned stares burning through me.

I don’t so much as slow until I’ve kicked my office door closed behind me. Once I’m confident that I’m alone, I blow out the breath I was holding and let my body sag.

I’m too fucking hungover for this shit.

Dumping my purse beneath my desk, I place my coffee on my mug warmer and open my laptop as I lower my ass into my chair.

As soon as I log in, my emails appear before me and I wince at the preposterous number staring back at me.

How is that even possible? It’s been six days since I got the call and my life turned into chaos.

But despite knowing it’s going to take me another six days I don’t really have to get through them all, I reach for my coffee and take a sip.

I can’t comprehend dealing with whatever is waiting for me in that inbox until I’ve managed to shake his irritating presence from my mind.

“Fuck it,” I mutter, reaching for the bag that’s holding my second pastry hostage.

By the time a knock sounds on my office door exactly nine and a half minutes later, I’m just swallowing the last bite.

“Come in. Take a seat.” I gesture to my conference table before walking around my desk to join them.

They continue to watch me curiously. No one dares say anything until Josh, one of my interns, pipes up the courage.

“We’re sorry for your loss, Tate. We’re here for whatever you need.”

I smile at him, feeling the sincerity in his words.

He started here fresh out of college and was pretty green with his knowledge of how the corporate world works. But he’s a fast learner and he’s beyond keen, and he works harder than anyone I’ve ever known. More than all that, he fits in. From his first day, he became part of our family, and I have high hopes for his future here.

Unease washes through me.

A future that’s being discussed right above our heads at this very moment.

I’ve no idea if Dad laid out plans for how he wanted this merger to work. My only interest in his wishes yesterday was what he’d planned for me. Professionally, he could be about to fuck me up too.

Callahan Enterprises already has a very successful marketing department. Their Chief Marketing Officer is incredible and has taken the company, the brand, way beyond where I think even Michael imagined they could be.

But having said that, he’s also a hard-ass. Something tells me that we’d clash. Badly.

Our CMO here is equally as good at his job, but he’s a little more—or a lot more—personable.

I look around my team as they begin presenting their ideas for our marketing plan for next summer and I can’t help wondering who will still be sitting beside me when we finally see our ideas come to fruition.

Is it wrong that I mourn their potential loss more than I have done for the actual loss of my father?

I love my team. We’re a tight-knit family that works seamlessly together. We bounce off each other perfectly and we come up with some kick-ass ideas, even if I do say so myself.

“What do you think, Tate? We’re torn,” Josh says, pointing at two ideas laid out before me.

“Ummm…”