By His Vow: Chapter 42

The anxiety I was feeling in the car as we drove into the city only gets worse with every set of eyes that follow me toward my desk.

“Good morning, Tatum. Can I get you a coffee?” Josh asks as he rushes over.

“Y-yeah, that would be great,” I mutter, my skin prickling as almost every person on the floor stares at me with a varying array of emotions on their faces.

Most are happier than usual, and others look confused.

“W-what’s going on?” I whisper, feeling like I’ve missed out on something huge.

His smile widens as he stares at me. “Congratulations, Tatum,” he says quickly before spinning around and marching toward our break room to make my coffee.

I quickly scan the office full of intrigued faces before I turn toward my office and rush inside.

Digging around inside my purse, I search for my cell.

The second it’s in my grasp, I turn it on, only to find the red dead battery sign flashing at me.

“Fantastic,” I mutter as I dump my purse on the floor, drop into my chair and reach for my charger.

The seconds seem to turn into minutes as I wait for it to power up, and the second it does, it lights up like a Christmas tree with notifications.

The majority are from Lori, but there are loads of others as well.

I’m staring at them all filling my screen when it begins ringing in my hand.

“Hey, Lor. What’s⁠—”

“That ring is fucking gorgeous,” she shrieks down the line.

“W-what?”

“And it was so romantic. Like, every girl’s dream proposal.”

My hand trembles and my heart begins to pound. “W-what are you talking about?”

I don’t know why I’m asking; I already know the answer.

“Tate, the photos are everywhere. It’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Where?” I ask, turning my computer on.

She laughs. “Literally everywhere. Wait…you didn’t know?”

My breathing becomes erratic as my web browser finally opens and I click onto a popular gossip site.

“Oh my god,” I whisper as a very clear photograph of Kingston and me on the deck of that cabin appears before me.

Private.

I thought it was private.

I thought it was just me and him. Something that we’d shared between us. A moment where everything changed, where the chemistry that was crackling finally bubbled over and we gave in.

I scroll down, ignoring whatever the journalist has written, and focus on the images.

Images that I didn’t consent to.

Images that⁠—

A bitter laugh full of disbelief spills from my lips as I stare at a photo of me sitting on the railing, the two of us making out like teenagers.

Maybe it was stupid to think that we’d shared something over the past two days. Maybe I was a naive little girl, thinking that our fake arrangement was turning into something.

As I stare at the image, a single tear runs down my cheek.

I was wrong.

Everything about this is nothing but a business deal.

Fuck. I’m so fucking stupid.

I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I let him sweep me away in all of this.

I let him play me.

“Fuck,” I groan, slumping back in my chair as if all the wind has been knocked out of me.

“Tatum, talk to me. Didn’t you know about this?”

“Does it look like I knew about this? I’m molesting him, Lor.”

“Not exactly. You’re both fully clothed. It’s sweet.”

“It’s fake. All of it is fak—” A knock on my office door cuts my words off before Josh pokes his head in with my coffee in his hand.

Lifting my hand, I wipe the tear trail from my cheek and try to pull myself together.

“I don’t think that’s⁠—”

“Thank you, Josh. Could you let the others know that we’ll meet in thirty? I had a few ideas over the weekend that I’d like to discuss in regard to the campaign.”

“O-of course,” he stutters, his eyes bouncing between mine, my computer screen and the wall behind me. “See you soon,” he says before backing out of the room.

“So he’s still hot for you then,” Lori deadpans once she’s confident the door has closed behind him.

“Focus, Lor. Josh isn’t an issue here.”

“Is there even an issue here? Didn’t you sign up for this?”

“I thought he was going to do it Friday night at the gala. He didn’t and instead, he swept me away for a romantic weekend in the woods.

“It was so perfect, Lor. Everything about that place, about him⁠—”

“Uh oh,” she says, hearing what I’m not saying. “You’re falling for him, aren’t you?”

“What?” I shriek, trying to sound offended by the mere suggestion. “No. Of course I’m not. I can’t stand him.”

“But you just said⁠—”

“I didn’t know that it was photographed, Lor. I didn’t know that photos of me were going to end up all over the internet without my permission. That’s not right.”

“Maybe not, but it’s not something you can really stop when you’re publicly dating a man like King⁠—”

“If we were in Chicago, yeah, I’d let you have that. But we were in the middle of fucking nowhere, Lor. No photographers followed us there. If they did, there would be photos of what we did during the day. He did this.”

Betrayal drips through my veins. It’s bitter, poisonous.

I thought we were…connecting, growing.

But in reality, all he was doing was focusing on the end goal. Ensuring he hit all the requirements of my father’s will to get what he wants.

Warner Group.

He wants to acquire my family company to further his own career, his own wealth.

He isn’t interested in me. In a relationship with me. In a future with me.

He was just making all the right noises to ensure I go along with him.

Fuck.

“Maybe not, Tate.”

“Why are you defending him all of a sudden?” I snap. “I thought you hated him.”

“I thought you hated him,” she counters.

“I do. I need to go.”

“Me too. Lunch?” she offers as olive branch.

“Tacos?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Okay. Normal place?”

“You got it. See you in a few.”

She cuts the call before I do, and I slump back in my chair.

He did this. I know he did.

I keep my cell on silent all day. The thing doesn’t stop. People I know message to congratulate me, and random unknown numbers call incessantly. I can only assume that they’re reporters wanting to get firsthand information on the engagement that’s sent the entire city into meltdown today.

I knew Kingston had a public image, that he was often photographed and talked about in the local media. But I had no idea it was to this extent.

Ten minutes before I was due to leave the building to meet Lori, she called me to say that she was bringing the tacos to me.

She explained about the crowd of journalists outside her building wanting to ask my best friend questions, and then she tried to play off what it was like downstairs. But the second she left, I walked toward the window and looked down.

The crowd made my heart drop into my feet.

Dad wanted this.

He knew what a public engagement and soon-to-be wedding would do, and he demanded it.

Why?

Why would he do this to me?

My team has been incredible. All the questions dancing on the tips of their tongues have thankfully remained inside their mouths. The only thing they said is congratulations, and a couple of the female members of my team asked to look at my ring, which of course they gushed over.

Why wouldn’t they? It’s gorgeous.

But it’s now also tainted.

With a sigh, I begin to pack up my things in preparation for leaving.

The crowd is still there. It seems like no one has forgotten the news or had anything else to distract them with.

My stomach knots just thinking about getting through it all.

I haven’t heard from Kingston all day. His silence is confirmation I don’t need that he did all this. That his romantic weekend was a setup and nothing else.

Did he even mean any of it?

I’m blinking back tears once again when a knock sounds on my door.

Attempting to swallow down the emotion bubbling up faster than I can control, I call, “Come in,” and wait to see who wants me.

It’s not him. I already know that. He wouldn’t have knocked. He wouldn’t have given me that courtesy.

“Hey,” a familiar voice says the second the door opens.

“Cory?” I gasp.

He hesitates a little before I urge him to come in.

“So…” he starts, his eyes running up and down the length of me. I’ve no idea what he’s looking for, or if he finds it, but his gaze finally locks on mine.

“So…” I echo, my stomach twisting up. I haven’t really spoken to him since our night out. Things have been too crazy. But now, staring into his eyes. I regret not making the effort.

He’s been a good friend to me. A very good friend.

“You’re marrying Kingston Callahan,” he blurts.

“Fuck, Cory,” I breathe, dragging my hair back from my face.

“I thought all those images circling last week were fake,” he admits. “I couldn’t believe that you, of all people, would fall for him.”

“Cory, that’s not⁠—”

“You’re wearing his ring, Tatum.”

Hurt flickers in his eyes, making me feel like the worst friend in the world.

“I know. Things have just been crazy since Dad died and⁠—”

He smiles softly before cutting me off.

“It’s okay, Tate. You don’t need to explain.”

“But—” He crosses the room and wraps me in his arms.

I almost shatter right then and there. Tears burn the backs of my eyes and make my nose itch, but I fight it.

I can’t lose my shit here, I just can’t. There are too many eyes on me.

I need to get home, lock myself away, and then I can deal with everything.

Home…

Do I even have one of those right now?

I suck in a ragged breath, but before I can release Cory, my office door flies open and heavy footsteps storm inside.

“What the fuck are you doing?” a deep, angry voice barks. “Get your hands off my wife.”