By His Vow: A Billionaire Arranged Marriage Romance

Dad was waiting for me when I finally emerged from Jonathan’s office after discussing a few things with Richard.

He wanted to know how we’d got on. I wasn’t surprised.

He has a lot riding on this partnership.

Hell, we all do.

Tatum might not see it—not yet, at least. But this is so much more than just her getting the cottage she so desperately wants and keeping some semblance of her life.

This is the merger of two huge families. Two powerful and successful businesses.

It’s been a long time coming.

For years, the two companies have been kept apart due to old rivalries and commitments to their own causes. But everything changed when Dad and Jonathan became friends.

When they both took their place as CEOs of each company, many thought the merger was imminent.

Yet it never happened.

They both stood strong and held the wishes of the men that came before them.

But the tide has changed.

With Jonathan’s unexpected passing, the future of Warner Group now lies in our hands.

It’s taken decades, but the inevitable has finally happened, and I get a hot little bonus to boot.

I can’t honestly say that I’m complaining too much.

Previously, the thought of sharing anything other than my dick with a woman has been less than appealing. But suddenly, the prospect of welcoming her into my house, my bed…fuck, it stirs something within me that I’ve never felt before.

Tatum Grace Callahan.

Sure does have a nice ring to it.

After informing him that Tatum had agreed, I excused myself from Jonathan and Helena’s house and returned to the place where I spend most of my time.

Callahan Enterprises HQ.

It’s a modern, glass high-rise in the center of town. A building impossible to miss by locals and tourists alike as they pass.

We’ve been here almost five years now after relocating not long after I joined the company from college.

It was a smart move placing ourselves somewhere so central, so focal. It’s helped push our business both here and worldwide to the next level.

You can be the best fucking business in the world, but if you don’t have the right image, the right face, the right brand, then you might as well give up. Something that Tate knows all too well.

I pull my Aston Martin to a stop outside the building and long before I’ve hit the brake, Thomas, one of my chosen security guards, comes marching toward me.

There are only a couple of people I truly trust with both my life and my car, and he is one of them.

He eyes me closely, taking note of each bruise and cut on my face, but he knows better than to comment.

“Good evening, sir. Would you like me to park her for you?” he asks as he pulls my door wide, allowing me to get out.

“Thank you,” I say coolly, passing him the key.

With a nod at the two men guarding the entrance, I march inside.

The second I step over the threshold, everything feels right in my world once again.

Any concern over Tatum and her reaction to today’s revelation is gone.

When I’m here, I’m focused. I do my job, and I do it fucking well, without any distractions or drifting thoughts.

With a nod to the ladies sitting behind the reception desk, I take off toward the elevator, aiming for the one person I know will still be sitting behind his desk, completely unaware that the workday is over and most of the staff have long left for the day.

The doors open before me, revealing two young women lost in deep conversation.

Without looking, they both move to the exit, completely missing my presence.

However, it doesn’t take long for one to glance up, and her gasp fills the small space around them.

“M-Mr. Callahan,” she stutters, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“No problem…?”

“C-Clare. I-I work in⁠—”

“Hi,” the other says much more confidently, stepping in and stealing my attention.

“I’m Erin. We’re both in marketing,” she says, her eyes holding mine for a beat before they drop to my lips.

Nice try.

“Have a wonderful evening, ladies.”

I step aside to allow them to pass before walking into the elevator with the sound of their giggles filling the air.

I’m still smirking at their reaction to me when I hit the top floor.

“Good evening,” I say, making eye contact with Melissa, my assistant, who’s packing up her things for the night.

“I wasn’t expecting you back. Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you. Enjoy your night,” I say, taking off down the hallway, passing the door to my office, and making a beeline for the one at the other end.

His windows are tinted, stopping me from seeing the man inside, but that isn’t an unusual thing. He prefers to hide from the world.

I knock twice and invite myself in before he has a chance to call out to me.

The room is silent with only a light glowing on his desk, and the man himself sits with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he types furiously on his keyboard.

“I’m busy,” he barks without bothering to look up.

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t give a fuck,” I mutter, swinging his door closed with a bang behind me and marching into the room.

Finally, he rips his gaze from his screen and his eyes narrow as he watches me drop into the chair opposite him.

“What the fuck happened to your face?”

“Minor misunderstanding,” I mutter. “It’s nothing,” I lie. In all honesty, it hurts like a bitch, but like fuck am I telling my younger brother that.

“Right. How did the reading go?” he asks, aware of where Dad and I have been this afternoon.

“Yeah,” I say, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees. “It was good. Positive.”

He frowns.

“What the fuck is positive in a will reading?” He grunts, pushing his keyboard back as he becomes fully invested in this conversation.

“Expansion is on the horizon, little brother,” I tease.

“What does that mean? What was in Jonathan’s will?”

Pushing from the chair, I walk over to his bar and grab two glasses. After pouring us a measure of scotch each, I lower his to his desk and throw mine back.

“You might want to drink that,” I say, placing my empty glass on the desk as the alcohol burns down my throat.

He does as I say before I ask, “Do you want to be my best man?”

He rears back, his eyes so wide I half expect them to pop out and bounce over his desk.

“Your what?” he blurts.

“My best man,” I confirm, walking back to his bar and bringing the bottle over to refill our glasses.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“Fuck off. You’re joking. There’s no way on Earth you’re getting married.”

I smirk, pushing his scotch closer.

“I am. Soon, in fact.”

“To who?”

My smirk grows, excitement tingling through my veins as I think about what’s to come.

“Tatum Warner.”

Kian’s mouth opens and closes like a goldfish before he finally settles on, “I guess that explains your ugly face. Didn’t think she had it in her.”

He grins at me as he sits back in his chair and takes a sip of his scotch.

“She doesn’t. Not yet at least.” I wink.

“You’re fucking serious, aren’t you?”

“Deadly. Jonathan’s will states that the two of us are to be joined in holy matrimony.”

“Why?”

“Why the fuck not?” I shoot straight back.

“Because she fucking hates you. Because she drives you to the brink of insanity. Because⁠—”

“It finally joins the Callahans and the Warners together.”

His expression hardens. “I’m not a fucking moron, KC. Why? Why would Jonathan sell his only daughter to you, let alone give us an in to Warner Group?”

I shrug one shoulder, equally as in the dark as he is to the finer details of this little arrangement.

I’ve no doubt I’ll find out soon enough.

I can’t imagine a man like Jonathan would make this decision lightly.

“I’ll look into Warner,” Kian states without missing a beat. “Something is wrong, and I’d put everything I own on it being financial,” he muses.

“Whatever it is, Jonathan owed our father something to willingly hand over both his business and his daughter.”

“You’re seriously marrying her?”

I chuckle. “Wouldn’t you?” I counter.

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to—it’s right there in his eyes.

Tatum is hot. Really fucking hot. I’m not sure there are many straight men on the planet who would turn down a shot with her.

“Marriage though, man. That shit is serious.”

“It’s only for a year,” I reason. “Then she gets what she actually wants and starts over. We, meanwhile, will have fully merged Callahan and Warner and our empire will be growing nicely.”

“And what if she catches feelings?”

“If?” I laugh.

“Arrogant motherfucker,” Kian scoffs.

“What?” I ask innocently. “I can’t help it that none of the ladies can resist me.”

“Well, if your dick is as big as your head, I can understand it.”

I flip him off with a wide-ass grin on my face.

“So, Miles beat the shit out of you. What did⁠—”

“Whoa, you’re assuming that he doesn’t look worse right now.”

Picking up his cell, he unlocks the screen and then slides it across the desk toward me.

“Taken less than twenty minutes ago at Maxies. I’d say he’s looking pretty good.”

“Fucking asshole.” I scoff, remembering his blazing eyes as he rained hell down on my face.

I knew he would be pissed. Miles loves Tate something fierce, but I wasn’t expecting a reaction quite that violent.

“What about Tate? How did she take it?”

“About as well as can be expected,” I explain as I swallow what’s left of my drink. “She wasn’t left much choice but to agree, unless she wanted to walk away with only the clothes on her back.”

“Why would Jonathan do that to her?” Kian asks in concern.

“Because he’s an asshole.” I point out.

He might never have been that way toward Miles, or me and my brothers. But we all saw the way he treated Tatum. It was like she was a second-class citizen just because she was born with a vagina. And, of course, her constant need to defy him only compounded the situation.

Did I think he’d sign her up for a marriage with me? Hell, with anyone? No, not really. But he always did like to surprise us all. I guess he’s just taken it to the next level.

“What happens from here?” Kian asks curiously.

“We start dating. I pop the question. And then we say I do.”

“Just like that?”

“Yep,” I say, popping the p. “Just like that.”

“And you’ve got to pretend that you like each other for the next year?”

“Yeah. Shouldn’t be that hard. It’s not like she’s a bad person or anything. Just…infuriating.”

He laughs.

“Have you told Mom?”

I stare at him. He knows full well that I haven’t.

“Fuck, this is priceless,” he says before scrolling through his phone for a few seconds.

“Who the fuck are you calling?” I demand when his dial tone rings through the air. It’s not hard to imagine him smugly informing our mother about all this. She already has enough opinions about my life that I don’t want to listen to, I don’t need to give her more reason to disapprove of me.

“Who do you think?” he asks a beat before our youngest brother answers the call.

“Hey, asshole. What’s up?”

While our lives are firmly entwined with Callahan Enterprises, Kieran managed to break the mold, much to our father’s irritation. If we all think Tatum defied what was expected of her and broke all the rules, then Kieran fucking shattered them when he severed the chains holding him here and set his sights on playing pro football.

Dad humored him when he was younger, expecting it to be a fad that he’d forget about. He was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Kieran ended up being a first-round draft pick and has been playing for the Chicago Chiefs ever since. Fucking killing it too.

“Are you sitting down?” Kian asks.

“Yeah, hit me with it.”

“Kingston is getting married.”