By His Vow: A Billionaire Arranged Marriage Romance

I stand with Kian, our father, Grant, our CMO, and a few other board members of Callahan Enterprises. All of them are in their late fifties or sixties. They’re all nice enough, but they’re not exactly who I want to be spending my Friday night with—Kian aside, of course.

But Dad was insistent we both show our faces. The board is concerned about the merger, and who are we to refuse to have a drink with them in the hope of settling their minds? I’m not sure how this actually helps, but I guess Dad’s the boss. For now…

“So as I was saying, the current market is showing an upward tick in…” I stare at Grant. I want to get excited about his predictions for our future marketing campaigns and where he thinks we should be focusing our energy in the coming months, but I can’t find any kind of enthusiasm.

If I’m being honest, it’s not just him. I haven’t been able to focus on anything since the moment Tatum climbed into the back of my car earlier and drove off into the sunset.

We had unfinished business from that elevator and my body—my dick—has only been able to think about where things could have gone if I’d have followed her into the back of the car and demanded that Lewis took us home.

My cock stirs again just thinking about it.

Would she have continued to fight me, refusing to admit that she feels whatever this thing is that’s suddenly crackling between us?

I’ve no idea what sparked it yesterday after the announcement.

Or has it always been there and I’ve been too distracted to notice?

She’s Miles’s little sister. And yes, while she’s always been smoking hot, there has always been a barrier stopping me from actually considering her as an option. But with that gone…

“Excuse me,” I say quietly as Grant continues with his spiel.

Turning my back on the group of men, I place my empty scotch glass on a tray as a waitress passes before happily accepting a refill.

I had every intention of taking a seat on one of the empty couches, but something pulls me toward the window.

Unable to ignore my gut, I move closer, sipping my fresh drink as I go.

My eyes scan the crowd below. The club is packed, filled will the best and worst that Chicago has to offer.

For a few seconds, I watch, mesmerized as the nameless, faceless bodies all move together.

Most have no idea they can be watched; they’re too lost in their own worlds to worry about what anyone else is doing.

I lift my foot to take a step back when a dark head of hair and a purple sequined dress catch my eye.

My cock swells long before my brain catches up with what my body already knows.

Tatum…

My eyes lock on her as she moves toward the bar. Toward a man.

And not just any man. A man she’s so familiar with she steps right into his body before reaching for the shots he has lined up before him.

My body locks up, my jaw clenching so hard I’m amazed I don’t shatter a tooth or two.

I glare at him as she reaches for one of the glasses and tips it back. He watches her with heated eyes.

I know exactly what he’s imagining.

Every man in this fucking place is thinking exactly the same.

She has her hair pinned up, exposing her slender neck, putting even more skin on show.

Her simple sequined dress is tiny, sitting high on her thighs and low on her chest. It glitters temptingly under the bright spotlights as they move around the room.

The desire to storm down there and drag her away from that prick is almost too much to ignore.

As if she can sense my attention, the second she reaches for her second shot, she pauses before spinning around.

Her eyes scan the crowd, searching. It’s right then and there that I have it confirmed that she’s feeling everything I am right now.

It makes me wonder if everything changed in her father’s office yesterday like it did for me, or if I’ve been missing something all these years.

I sense someone stepping up beside me, but I don’t look back to see who it is. I can’t. I’m too desperate to know if she’s going to look up and find me.

Surely, if she has any suspicion that I’m the one causing her to search the crowded club, then she has to know to look up.

I might have spent my fair share of nights down in the thick of it in the past, but it’s been a while.

I don’t need to anymore.

The thrill of the chase ended a long time ago.

While I was at college, I still flew slightly under the radar. But the second I started at Callahan Enterprises, my name was suddenly everywhere. I couldn’t leave my apartment without women approaching me.

Obviously, I thought it was great, and I certainly made the most of the attention.

Hell, I still do. Although I’ve learned to be a little more selective about who I spend time with these days.Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

I’ve had more than enough crazy hookups to last me a lifetime.

“What’s got you so enthr—” Kian chuckles right as Tatum figures it out and looks up.

The second she does, her eyes lock on mine and something electric crackles between us. It doesn’t matter that there’s glass between us, or that she can’t see me.

We both know.

“Jesus. Think it’s time you fucked your future wife, Bro,” Kian mutters helpfully.

Silence falls between us as she winks, confirming what I already knew. She knows I’m here.

I guess the only question is…what’s she going to do about it?

“Although…” Kian mutters as she swallows two more shots and moves away from the bar, “it seems she might have another man in her sights.”

A growl of disapproval rumbles deep in my throat.

No one else would be able to hear it. Hell, I’m not even sure if Kian can hear it, but the fucker laughs as if this is the most amusing thing he’s ever seen.

Tatum leads the guy by the hand into the middle of the dance floor before slut dropping on him.

“Oh shit. Your wife has balls of steel, man.”

“And he’s about to fucking lose his,” I mutter darkly, my fists clenching as I imagine ripping them from his body for touching something that belongs to me.

“Ah, Kingston, there you are. Did you get my email today?” one of the board members asks.

My brow pinches as I try to force my brain to focus on anything but the woman downstairs with another man’s hands on her body.

“Apologies, Chris. It’s been a long day. Refresh my memory,” I ask.

He frowns momentarily. It’s unlike me not to have my finger right on the pulse, but the past twenty-four hours have done a number on me. Or should I say that Tatum Warner has?

I tell myself that it’s just because it’s the beginning. That once we’ve announced our engagement and she’s moved in with me, things will settle. My life will return to something akin to normal and I’ll be able to focus on what matters once more.

I fear it might be wishful thinking. Especially if she keeps playing this game with me.

Chris begins animatedly explaining the contents of his email. The second I discover it’s not work-related as such, but instead about his wife’s cousin’s experience at one of our resorts, I begin to zone out again.

How can he possibly expect me to focus on that bullshit when my soon-to-be wife is downstairs, being molested by a man who isn’t me?

“Thank you for that, Chris. We’ll certainly look into it,” Kian says, slapping me on the back and bringing me back into the conversation I fear I was meant to have contributed to.

“Leave it with us,” I say quickly, although I’m not sure he buys it.

“Actually, Chris, I wanted to pick your brain about something,” Kian says, leading the older man away and toward the bar for more drinks.

As they step up to order, Kian looks back over his shoulder and jerks his chin in the direction of the stairs, silently encouraging me to go after her.

Without responding, I turn around and step closer to the window.

It takes me a second or two to locate her, they’ve shifted a little since I was forced to look away, but she’s still dancing with that asshole who thinks he’s got a chance.

I shake my head before lifting what’s left of my scotch to my lips and swallowing it down.

With the alcohol warning my stomach and desire and irritation running through my veins, I take off toward the stairs without bothering to look back at the men I’m meant to be entertaining.

Fuck them. They don’t need me.

Neither does Tatum, to be fair. But the motherfucker she’s dancing with sure needs to know that she isn’t going to be spending the night in his bed anytime soon.

She might pretend that she doesn’t want to be in mine either, but I have every intention of proving her wrong.

The only place that Tatum Warner belongs is with me.

The image of her rolling around in my sheets has my cock threatening to go full mast by the time I get to the bottom of the stairs.

The music is loud down here—so loud I can barely hear my thoughts as I move through the almost unbearable heat and the scent of body odor.

If I needed a reminder of why I no longer go clubbing, then this is it.

Drinking scotch in the VIP lounge is far more my thing now.

“Fucking watch it,” I bark when a guy misjudges the flat surface he’s attempting to walk on and crashes right into me.

I shove him away, sending him toward the floor with one hard push.

“Fucking asshole,” he slurs before rolling over like a demented turtle stuck on its back.

I force my way through the crowd, the air getting thicker with every step I take.

More than a few wandering hands brush over my body. Each time I feel someone’s touch, I have to force myself not to reach out and snap their fucking wrists.

“Hey, handsome. Dance with me,” a woman purrs behind me while another looks me up and down as if I’m the most delicious thing she’s seen all month.

I mean, to be fair…

I shut that thought down and rip my eyes from the shameless woman in search of one that I’ve no doubt will be her complete opposite when I make my presence known.

With my fist curled and my grip on my sanity beginning to slip, I finally spot them ahead of me.

Tatum moves against the guy as if they do this every night of the week.

Something hot and uncomfortable explodes within me.

Lori has her back to Tatum, her tongue down some dude’s throat.

She has no idea that her best friend’s world is about to tilt on its axis again.

Twice in two days…

I smirk, loving how easy she makes it.

I stand there for two more seconds, camouflaged by the crowd around me like a lion about to pounce on his prey.

The guy dips his head and shouts something in her ear. She nods once before he presses a kiss to her bare shoulder, making my entire body tense with my need to rid his lips from his body as well as his balls before he steps back and disappears through the crowd.

She dances alone, but it only takes a few seconds for every man around her to notice that she’s no longer got a partner.

Two step forward simultaneously, but I’m faster.

One hard look at them and they slink away, already knowing that they’d lose this battle if they started something.

Tatum Warner is mine, and no motherfucker in this club, or this city, is going to take her from me. No matter how much she might want them to.