By His Vow: A Billionaire Arranged Marriage Romance

Bubbles explode on my tongue as I take another sip of champagne.

“Where the hell is she?” Lori asks, her gaze locked on the front door of the exclusive bridal shop we’re inside while she elegantly holds her own glass of bubbles like she’s been doing it her entire life.

“She’s not coming,” I state flatly.

Lori looks over at me, her expression softening.

“It’s fine,” I assure her, my chest aching with the truth.

Did I hope that Mom might be able to leave her grief behind for an hour so she could be here to see me try on wedding dresses? Yeah, there was a part of me that did. But there was another part that knew she wouldn’t, that it would be too much for her.

Pain lashes at my insides, but what can I do about it? Drag her out of the house kicking and screaming? She probably hasn’t even pulled herself out of bed yet, let alone attempted anything else.

I went over there on Wednesday night with a wedding invitation for her. I’d regretted the decision to try before I even stepped a foot inside. All the curtains were drawn. The whole aura around the building was depressing, and it only got worse when I entered.

Mom was drunk—that much was obvious the second I looked at her. The house was a mess. Hell, she was a mess. But she refused to accept any kind of help, just like I knew she would, and after spending half an hour with her, she basically told me to leave, so I did.

I want to help—I do; she’s my mom. But I’m also not going to force it on her. If she’s not willing to help herself, then I’m not going to put myself out, not when I’ve enough of my own issues to deal with right now.

“It’s not fine, Tate. She’s your mom; she should be here for this,” Lori argues.

For someone who has an interesting relationship with her own mother, she sure has high expectations of mine.

Plus, Kingston’s Mom isn’t even coming. At least mine will see the ceremony.

“The only person I need is sitting right beside me,” I assure my best friend.

The tapping of heels fills the room before one of the assistants appears before us.

“Okay, are we ready to get started?” she asks excitedly.

Her passion for her job is as clear to see as the wedding planner’s. However, I must admit that I’m feeling a little more excited about this than I was at our surprise meeting on Tuesday morning. I mean, we’re surrounded by beautiful gowns. Who wouldn’t be excited to try them all on?

“Yes,” Lori says excitedly. “Can we start with the biggest one you have in the store?”

“I don’t need a big dress,” I counter.

“I never said you needed one, but you definitely need to try one on.” She laughs, happiness shining in her eyes.

“We have time to try anything you like,” the assistant says, reminding me that Kingston insisted they closed early and stay until I’ve found “the one.”

As much as I hate to admit it, he’s been the perfect fiancé this week.

I’ve no idea if he’s trying to make up for the leaked photographs or just trying to pacify me so that I don’t set Griz on him again, but he’s been caring and attentive. He’s been involved with Mia regarding the wedding plans instead of leaving it all to me. I mean, sure, he’s got a vested interest in making sure the wedding happens, but I can’t help feeling like he’s even more invested than he needs to be. Almost like he’s excited for it, like he actually wants it. Wants to be married.

I’ve told myself over and over that I’m just kidding myself. That he’s just playing the part everyone is expecting of him.

Pushing to my feet, I begin looking at my options.

White, ivory, silver. Beads, pearls, diamonds. Lace, satin, tulle.

My mind spins with the variety.

I know my style and what suits me, but I’ve got this niggle I can’t ignore that I want something different. I don’t want to choose the style that everyone would expect from me. I want to wow.NôvelDrama.Org copyrighted © content.

This wedding and marriage might be totally out of my hands, but this…this I can control.

“Oh my god, Tate. This one.” Lori gasps from the other side of the store.

Abandoning the dress in front of me, I walk over as she pulls it free.

“Oh my god, that’s⁠—”

“The one,” Lori gushes.

“I was going to say massive.”

“It’s beautiful, and it’ll look so incredible on you.”

“It’s a bit much,” I say, running my eyes down the ivory dress and the intricate lace that covers it.

It has a sweetheart neckline and off-the-shoulder straps and the skirt…wow. It really is stunning but⁠—

“Try it on,” Lori urges. “Please.”

The assistant moves closer before she begins explaining all the details about the dress.

Most of it passes me by; I don’t care about the designer or how many diamonds or pearls it has. I’m not the kind of bride who is going to be bragging about the cost of a dress. It could be twenty dollars from a thrift store so long as it makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the room on the day. The cost is meaningless in the grand scheme of things. Happiness is way more important.

“Okay,” I concede, making my best friend beam.

The assistant takes the dress from her and carries it toward the back of the store where the dressing rooms are, leaving us to keep looking.

Only ten minutes later, I have three other options lined up.

All three of them are much more…me. Slimmer cut than the first one, straps, less…well, everything. And totally the opposite of the out-of-the-box dress I told myself I was going to look for. I guess old habits die hard.

“Well, I know which one I’m gunning for,” Lori says as we both look at my options.

“Oh yeah,” I deadpan.

“We’ll give you a few minutes,” the assistant says before closing the heavy curtains and leaving me alone with the dresses.

I let out a sigh as I look at each one, my heart threatening to pound out of my chest.

This doesn’t feel real.

Me trying on wedding dresses…

I shake my head, trying to make sense of it all.

Stripping out of my work clothes, I stand in a set of lingerie Kingston bought for me.

He has no idea I’m wearing it, and even if he asked, I’d lie, but I couldn’t stop myself. I needed something special today, and to be fair to him, he has very good taste.

We haven’t been intimate since our drunken debauchery in the bathroom on Monday night, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s going to stay that way for the foreseeable future. Sex changes things. It clouds our judgment and makes things even more complicated than they already are. At least for me, it does.

It was the addition of our physical connection that resulted in me convincing myself that we were more than a business deal. It led me to the pain that Monday caused, and if I can safeguard myself from that again, I will.

Everything is hard enough as it is. I don’t need any extra complications.

Going for the safest option first, I pull the heavy yet feather-soft satin up my body and slip the straps over my shoulders.

I look at myself in the mirror, my hands trembling as I hold the too-big dress against me.

It’s pretty. Beautiful, in fact. But it doesn’t make me feel like I thought it would. It feels wrong, and it makes my pulse pick up speed.

It’s just a dress. Not the dress.

But then this isn’t the wedding, so maybe it isn’t meant to feel like they tell you it does in the movies.

“Come on, let us see,” Lori calls impatiently, making my heart skip a beat.

I should be excited doing this. I should want to step out there and show my best friend.

But I’m terrified.

Taking in a deep breath, I turn toward the curtain and awkwardly slip out.

“Oh.” Lori’s face falls the second she sees I’m not in the dress she was hoping for. “It’s beautiful,” she says, trying to recover quickly.

Basically, she mirrors exactly how I’m feeling.

“Okay, come and stand up here and we’ll get it fitting like it should so you can see the true look,” the assistant says, pointing to a raised platform.

Swiping my glass of champagne on the way, I swallow it down fast in the hope of squashing the unease that’s bubbling up inside me. I stand there and let her do her thing, watching the dress transform before my eyes in the mirror.

It looks better, sure, but it still doesn’t feel special.

It still doesn’t feel right.

“I like it,” she says when she finally takes a step back.

Like…

Yeah, like it’s really how you want anyone to describe your wedding dress.

My heart begins to pound harder as claustrophobia seeps in.

It feels like the dress is shrinking, stopping me from breathing.

“Can you release it? I need to take it off,” I ask in a rush, my temperature soaring higher with every increased beat of my heart.

“Oh yes, of course.”

“Tate, are you okay?” Lori asks, concern laced through her voice.

“Uh-huh.”

The second the dress loosens enough for me to be able to escape from it, I dart back behind the curtain.

“Fuck,” I breathe.

I really shouldn’t have had that champagne.

“Tate?” Lori calls.

“I’m okay. I just need a minute.”

I let the dress fall to my feet before turning to look at the other three, but my eyes zero in on one of them and my heart continues racing for an entirely different reason.

Everything about it feels different from the moment I lift it from the hangar.

My skin prickles as I slide it up my body and pull it into place.

It’s not as big as the first one, and it fits as it is.

I look down at myself, my breath shaking. I don’t look in the mirror this time, so I’ve no idea how I look, but I know how I feel.

Closing my eyes, I find that it’s easy to imagine myself wearing this and walking toward Kingston. It’s such a vivid image that it knocks the wind out of me to the point I have to reach for the wall to steady myself.

Taking in a few deep breaths, I roll my shoulders back and move toward the curtain.

Both women turn to me the second I emerge. The assistant’s expression softens, but it’s Lori’s reaction that fully steals my attention.

“Oh my god,” she sobs, tears immediately filling her eyes. “That’s it. That’s the one.”

Without needing to be told, I step up onto the podium and lift my eyes to the mirror.

What I find staring back at me knocks the air straight from my lungs.

Lori is right.

This is it. This is the dress that I’m going to marry Kingston Callahan in.