By His Vow: A Billionaire Arranged Marriage Romance

“No,” I hiss, cutting off whatever else Richard had to say. He barely even glanced at me as he dropped that bomb. Did he think none of us were listening and that we’d allow him just to breeze past it? “There is no way on this Earth I’m doing that,” I state, marching straight up to Dad’s desk and attempting to snatch the paperback directly from Richard’s hands.

When he pulls it out of my reach, I see red.

“I don’t believe you,” I shout. “Show me. Show me the evidence.”

“Tatum,” Michael says softly from behind me.

“No,” I say, holding my hand up to stop him from approaching me—if he were even trying to. “This is bullshit. There is no way that Dad would have wanted me to⁠—”

Richard spins the paperwork toward me and points toward the lines in question.Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Why?” I whisper, my eyes filling with tears as I read the exact words he just said to us. “Why would he do this to me?”

“He had his reasons,” Richard muses.

“None of them will be good enough. There’s no way I’m marrying that…that—” I spin around and pin Kingston with a look, but the second I register the smug expression on his face, my world tilts on its axis again.

He knew.

He fucking knew.

They’d planned this.

Our fathers.

Him.

My blood runs cold at the thought of them mapping out my entire life without my knowledge.

How dare they?

What makes any of them think they have the right to control me like that?

I’m not a puppet. I’m a human.

A fucking adult who can make her own choices, her own decisions.

Ripping my eyes from his twinkling green ones, I turn to my brother.

“Did you know about this?” I snap.

I swear to God, if he knew and was hiding this from me then⁠—

“No,” he confesses. “I had no idea.”

My big brother might be like our father in many, many ways, but there is one major difference between them.

I can read Miles.

And right now, I know he’s telling the truth.

“There’s no way I’d have let him do this to you, Tate,” he says fiercely, surging toward me and wrapping me in his arms.

I fight, I really fucking do, but the tears are too persistent, and finally, I have no choice but to let one slip free.

I hate myself for it. For appearing weak. But my world is crumbling around me and I’ve no idea how else to deal with this right now.

“It’s going to be okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t⁠—”

“It comes with conditions,” Richard interrupts.

I sigh, pressing my forehead against Miles’s chest as I pray for strength.

“Of course it does,” I mutter, more to myself than anyone else.

Once I’ve steeled myself for what’s to come, I stand tall and focus on Richard, keeping Kingston and Michael behind me.

They don’t deserve even a second of my time or energy right now. Ever, actually.

“What are the conditions?” I ask, already dreading the response.

“After a year of marriage, the cottage will become yours,” Richard states.

All the air rushes from my lungs.

That’s all I want. That little cottage in the middle of a quaint little village in the Cotswolds in England.

I’d requested to buy it several times. But he always refused. He knew it was something he could hold over me, to force me to do his bidding. Because he knew how much I loved it.

“That’s not fair,” I argue.

“Wills often aren’t, my dear,” Richard says softly. “Unfortunately, the wishes of those who’ve moved on often don’t make that much sense to those who have been left behind.”

“What else did he say?”

His eyes hold mine. Sympathy oozes from them, and my skin erupts in goosebumps.

“If you don’t do this, you lose everything.”

My mouth opens and closes, but no words come out.

“Your apartment, your car, your job, your trust fund. Everything.”

“He can’t do that,” Miles roars.

“All of it belongs to your father. He can do whatever he wants.”

“No, there must be a loophole. You’ve got to find a way around this,” Miles begs.

All the while, Michael and Kingston sit behind us silently, probably enjoying the spectacle.

They already know the answer to Miles’s question. Hell, even I know the answer to Miles’s question. But until I hear it from the lips of the man who knows everything then⁠—

“There is no loophole. I’m sorry, Tatum, but you have two options. Get everything you ever wanted, or walk away with nothing.”

“Why?” I repeat. “Why would he do this?”

No one responds. Although I don’t for a second think that it’s because no one knows the answer.

The two men sitting behind me know everything.

There’s movement, and all the hairs on the back of my neck lift.

I know who’s going to speak long before his deep voice fills the room, but it still startles me.

“Would you all mind leaving my fiancée and me to discuss this private matter with Richard alone?”

“F-fiancée?” I stutter, my voice full of venom and disbelief. “I am not your fucking fiancée.”

His expression hardens, the tendons in his neck tightening with frustration.

I stare up at him, ignoring the height difference between us, and narrow my eyes.

“I am not, and will never be, your anything.”

The air crackles between us as my body burns red hot with a potent mixture of anger and disbelief.

“There has to be another way,” Miles muses again, but when no response comes, he sighs and concedes.

“Come on, Helena,” Michael says, pandering to Mom. “Let’s leave the kids to sort this out while we have a coffee.”

“Seriously?” Miles gasps. “You think we can just sort this out? Dad wants…Dad is demanding they—” He swallows the rest of his sentence as Michael and Mom begin shuffling around.

I catch their movement in my peripheral vision behind Kingston, but I don’t look over. My entire focus is on conveying just how much I hate him with my eyes alone.

Mom hasn’t said a word. Not a single word throughout this whole thing.

I know she’s suffering, drowning in grief, but her only daughter has just had her life turned upside down.

Surely this is the time to pull her ass from the pits of despair. Or at least to say something, for fuck’s sake.

Kingston’s eyes continue to hold mine. His stare is cold and hard and totally unwavering. While I might be trying to silently tell him how much I despise everything about him, he’s happily reminding me that I have no power here.

He has it all, and he’s fucking reveling in it.

Asshole.

It’s not until Mom and Michael reach the door that someone speaks.

“Tatum, I know this is a shock,” Michael says. There’s concern in his voice, but something tells me it’s as fake as his current wife’s tits. “But you need to trust your father. He knew what he was doing when he changed his wishes.”

Finally, I rip my eyes from Kingston and look toward them. Michael has his arm around Mom’s waist, holding her up.

She looks frail, a lot older than she actually is.

For long seconds, she stands there unresponsive, but just before Michael encourages her out of the door, she finally looks up.

Her eyes lock with mine and something passes between us.

Mom is a good person. She’s always done her best for us. Unfortunately, she’s also very easily led, so her best was always controlled, her intentions always steered in a certain way. And despite Dad now being gone, I have a feeling nothing is going to change. He’s always going to be in her head and whispering in her ear, and if not him, then it’ll be Michael.

Her lips part, and I pray that she’s going to say something to help me. Some kind of advice. She’s lived a life surrounded by these controlling men. Surely, she has some kind of insight that would help me right now.

But before a word can leave her mouth, her lips close again, she dips her head and shuffles out of the room with Michael hot on her tail.

With them gone, the tension immediately ramps up. The air turns thick with anticipation to the point it’s hard to draw in a breath. And it only gets worse when Miles steps up to Kingston.

They might have been best friends their whole lives, but it doesn’t stop them from doing what needs to be done—and it seems this is one of those moments because before Miles comes to a stop, he pulls his arm back and throws his fist into Kingston’s beautiful face.

His head snaps back as a surprised grunt spills from his lips.

“No,” I shriek, lunging for Miles’s arm before he throws another punch.

But I’m not quick or strong enough.

Miles’s bicep tenses under my tiny hands as he prepares for his second hit, and I panic.

“Stop,” I beg. “Please. You’re only making this worse.”

It takes a couple of seconds, but my pleading cuts through his anger.

“Miles,” I warn, as he shakes me off and steps toe to toe with Kingston.

Everything about them is so similar, their height, their size, and if they seriously got into it, I don’t know who would come out on top. I’d rather not know. And I certainly don’t want to witness it.

Miles’s chest swells with anger before he seethes, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here or what kind of game you’re playing, but if you so much as hurt a hair on her fucking head, I will end you.”

Kingston glares back.

The air crackles loudly as we all wait for his response.

My heart is a runaway train in my chest, but the second Kingston speaks, I’m pretty sure it runs straight off the tracks.

“I can’t promise you that, bro. But I can promise one thing…” I don’t breathe, I don’t do anything as I wait. “She’ll love every fucking second of it.”

I don’t move fast enough. Miles is on him like a rocket and the two of them crash into the desk, making Richard screech and jump to his feet.

“Stop it,” I scream. “Just fucking stop it.”

I try dragging Miles away, but I don’t achieve anything.

He’s lost to his anger. I get it. I really fucking get it.

If I believed I could cause Kingston any physical pain right now, I’d be doing the exact same thing.

Unfortunately, I don’t think there’s any way on this Earth that I could hurt Kingston. He’s untouchable.

Just like our fathers and grandfathers.

So why? Why did Dad think this was a good idea?

Kingston doesn’t want me. He wants the blonde bimbos he usually spends time with. They stroke his ego—along with other things—and satisfy his needs. I shudder as I consider just what those needs consist of. Why would he ever agree to this? Why would he ruin his perfect bachelor life to be tied to me?

I shake my head, feeling stupid.

For power and wealth.

Is it ever anything else?