Unclaimed Vows

Chapter 3: The First Day in Town

NYX

After driving nonstop, stopping only for quick meals and short breaks, I finally reached my destination.

The Texas heat hit me like a wall the moment I stepped out of my SUV in front of Oak Ridge Realty.

Dan, a burly man in his forties wearing a faded straw hat and cowboy boots, waited by the front door. When he saw me approaching in my sleek travel clothes with a high-end leather bag, his smile widened. Despite my appearance, his welcome was warm and genuine.

“Miss Harrington, I assume?” Dan held out a calloused hand and gave mine a firm shake. “You made good time coming down from Illinois.”

“I didn’t stop much,” I said, offering him a polite smile. “Are the keys ready?”

“Right here on the desk, ma’am.” He turned toward the air-conditioned office and picked up a heavy ring of brass keys and a folder containing the deed documents. “I figured I’d lead the way out to Miller’s Creek Road. The front gate lock can be a little sticky if you don’t know the trick.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

I followed his pickup truck down a two-lane county road framed by sprawling oak trees and dusty pastures. Five miles outside the town square, Dan slowed down and turned onto a long gravel driveway. He pulled up in front of a massive black wrought-iron gate set into a sturdy stone boundary wall.

“Wall’s solid,” Dan called as he stepped out of his truck while I turned off my engine. “The previous owner put up six-foot stone and iron walls along the front perimeter. The automatic keypad works fine. You just have to punch in the factory code until you reset it.”

He entered four numbers into the keypad, and the heavy gates hummed open smoothly.

I drove through, my eyes scanning my new forty acres.

The property was massive, but it definitely needed work.

The main grounds were choked with tall weeds, dry brush, and patches of overgrown soil waiting for my seeds. Near the center stood an old, single-story ranch house with a wide wooden porch. The paint was peeling in long strips, and the shutters looked tired, but the foundation, built from stone and cedar, appeared solid.

Off to the side stood an empty chicken coop that needed a new roof. Near the front road was a small outbuilding that would serve as my general practice clinic once I renovated the interior.

“Structure’s got great bones,” Dan said, tapping one of the porch pillars. “The house needs a coat of paint and some cosmetic touch-ups, but the framing and roof are sturdy. You planning on staying here while you fix it up?”

“Eventually, I’m going to build a fully customized villa and pool house near the trees,” I told him, looking out over the open field. “I’ll probably construct the pool house first and live in it while the main house is torn down and rebuilt.”

Dan let out a low whistle, looking at me with newfound respect.

“You don’t do things by halves, do you, Miss Harrington? Tell you what. You just got into town, and this yard is a mess. Let me make a few calls. I’ve got some boys in town who aren’t doing much this afternoon.”

“Dan, you don’t have to do that. And just call me Nyx,” I said. “I can hire a commercial crew tomorrow.”

“Nonsense, Nyx.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Folks around here help a neighbor get settled. Give me twenty minutes.”

He pulled out his phone and made two quick calls.

Within half an hour, three pickup trucks pulled up the gravel driveway. Four young local men and two older men climbed out, carrying weed whackers, rakes, ladders, and toolboxes.

“Dan said the new neighbor needed a hand clearing the place out!” an older man in denim overalls called out with a wave. “I’m Jim. We’ll have this brush cleared before sunset, ma’am.”

“Thank you so much,” I said, genuine gratitude cutting through my exhaustion.

I reached for my purse.

“Let me pay you all for your time—”

Dan immediately caught my wrist and chuckled.

“Put that purse away, Nyx. Folks in Oak Ridge don’t take cash for helping a new neighbor get settled. It’s bad manners. But if you want to buy them some food, that’s a different story.”

Dan turned and waved at a teenage boy who had just arrived on a dirt bike. He was Jim’s nephew, Timmy.

“Hey, Timmy! Take Nyx’s order down to the Oak Ridge Diner and bring back enough burgers, fries, and sweet tea for the whole crew.”

I pulled three crisp hundred-dollar bills from my wallet and handed them to Timmy, along with a scribbled list. “Get whatever they want, Timmy. Keep the change for yourself.”

The boy’s eyes widened at the cash. “Yes, ma’am! I’ll be back in twenty minutes!”

For the next four hours, the sounds of weed whackers, mowers, and laughter filled my forty acres.

The men cleared the overgrown weeds and dry leaves from around the house and chicken coop. Two of the older men climbed onto the roof to inspect the shingles and declared them completely leak-free. Another checked the main water line and electrical panel to ensure everything was functioning properly.

By four in the afternoon, the estate’s front grounds looked clean, spacious, and welcoming.

The men devoured the mountain of diner burgers and iced tea on the front porch, thanking me profusely before loading into their trucks and heading home.

“If you need anything else, just stop by the office,” Dan said, tipping his hat as he climbed into his truck. “Welcome to Oak Ridge.”

“Thanks for everything, Dan.”

Once the dust settled and the last truck disappeared down the driveway, the quiet of the Texas countryside settled around me.

I picked up my duffel bags, walked into the ranch house, and unlocked the front door.

The interior was dusty but clean. I spent the next hour wiping down the master bedroom, pulling fresh cotton sheets from my suitcase, and making the bed.

To my surprise, the house’s fiber-optic Wi-Fi was already installed and active, with the service paid for in advance by the estate company.

I sat on the edge of the bed and finally checked my phone.

The screen lit up with dozens of missed calls and unread messages.

Tristan Belmont — 14 missed calls

Victoria Smith-Harrington — 8 missed calls

Eleanor Belmont — 6 missed calls

Chateau Weddings Chicago — 3 missed calls

I ignored every single one of them and dialed Zeus first.

He answered on the first ring. “Nyx. Tell me you’re somewhere safe.”

“I’m at my new home in Oak Ridge, Texas,” I said, leaning back against the wooden headboard.

I quickly took a few photos of the cleared front yard, the porch, and the quiet tree line, then sent them to his phone. “Forty acres, a clinic building, and zero high-society drama.”

Zeus’s laughter rasped through the speaker. “Look at that. You bought an entire ranch. Seems like you’re already feeling at home.”

“I really am.” I smiled softly. “How are things on your end?”

“I’m wrapping up the quarterly fashion house audit by Friday,” Zeus said, his tone shifting into something sharper. “Once I finish, I’m driving out to see you. I want to inspect the property myself.”

“I’ll have a room ready for you.” I paused. “Now, tell me what happened with Dad.”

Zeus let out a dark, amused hum.

“Dad was stuck in that Chicago corporate acquisition meeting until late last night. Victoria threw a massive family dinner at the mansion to celebrate the upcoming wedding merger. Tristan’s parents—Arthur and Eleanor—were there in their full, insufferable glory.”

“I can picture it,” I said flatly.

The Belmonts were insufferable snobs who acted as if they had royal blood, despite their lineage being nothing more than an obscure branch of distant nobility from two centuries ago.

“Well,” Zeus continued, “right in the middle of Eleanor talking about the guest seating for the Chicago country club reception, I stood up at the head of the dining table, put down my glass, and announced that you had officially canceled the wedding and left the state.”

“What did they do?”

“Eleanor nearly choked on her expensive caviar.” Zeus chuckled. “Tristan’s father stood up and demanded an explanation, claiming that a Harrington couldn’t back out of a binding social arrangement. Victoria started tearing up, wringing her hands like a tragic opera character.”

He paused briefly. “I didn’t say another word. I just picked up my jacket and walked out.”

“Serves them right,” I said. My phone vibrated against the mattress. “Hold on, Zeus. Dad is calling my secondary line right now.”

“Answer it,” Zeus said. “He’s at the mansion. Victoria’s probably hyperventilating in the corner.”

“Talk to you soon, Zeus.” I switched lines. “Hello, Dad.”

“Nyx.” Richard Harrington’s voice came through the speaker. He sounded completely calm, controlled, and icy—the exact tone he used when stripping hostile takeover bidders of their voting shares.

Harringtons didn’t throw loud tantrums. We dismantled people with precision.

“I received your voicemail last night,” he continued. “I’m currently sitting in the study with Victoria, Arthur, and Eleanor Belmont.”

“I assume Tristan hasn’t told his parents the truth yet?” I asked coldly.

“No,” Dad replied, his voice lowering by an octave. “Tristan told his mother that you had suffered a breakdown over your medical boards and run away. But I spoke with Zeus ten minutes ago, and he provided the financial records showing Lexi’s recent apartment visits and Tristan’s hotel charges.”

In the background, I heard Victoria’s trembling, overly dramatic voice through the receiver.

“Richard, please… Lexi is young. She made a mistake—”

“Silence, Victoria. Nyx is a year younger than Lexi and she never acted the way Lexi did,” Dad cut her off sharply, without even bothering to move the phone away from his ear. Then he returned his attention to me. “Nyx, I want to hear it from you. Did you catch them together?”

“In my bed, Dad. Yesterday afternoon,” I said plainly. “I threw the engagement ring at Lexi, slapped her across the face, packed my bags, and handed my corporate proxy shares to Zeus.” I paused, feeling my jaw tighten. “The Belmonts are an entitled, arrogant family that only cares about their name and never believes they’re wrong. The wedding is permanently off.”

“Understood,” Dad replied smoothly.

I heard him turn away from the phone and activate the speaker so everyone in the study could hear him.

“Arthur. Eleanor.” Dad’s authoritative voice echoed through the grand room. “My daughter has confirmed the infidelity. The marriage between the Harrington and Belmont families is officially null and void. All joint investment ventures between our firms are frozen as of this morning.”

A sharp, horrified gasp echoed through the speaker.

Eleanor Belmont’s melodramatic voice followed.

“Richard! You cannot be serious! The scandal! What will high society say? The Belmont name cannot be dragged through the mud over a simple misunderstanding!”

“It isn’t a misunderstanding, Eleanor,” Dad said with cold finality. “Your son chose to sleep with my stepdaughter. And since Lexi and Tristan have been conducting an affair behind my daughter’s back for months, Lexi will be marrying Tristan instead.” He paused. “The preparations are already in place. All you have to do is change the bride’s name.”

“Richard!” Victoria shrieked in the background, her voice laced with panic. “Lexi is barely established! She isn’t ready for—”

“She wanted Tristan, Victoria.” Dad silenced his wife with a brutal, unyielding tone. “Now she has him.” His voice grew colder. “The Harringtons will not provide an extra cent for their wedding. Everything has already been paid for, but we will not contribute anything further. Nor will Lexi receive a dime from the family trust fund.” He continued before anyone could interrupt. “Arthur, you wanted a Harrington alliance? You can have my adopted stepdaughter. Good evening.”

A chorus of furious shouts, gasps, and hysterical sobbing erupted through the speaker as Arthur Belmont realized he had traded a multimillion-dollar heiress for an unemployed social climber.

I couldn’t stop the dark, satisfied smile spreading across my face as I sat on my comfortable bed in Texas.

Lexi had spent her entire life trying to steal my clothes, my status, and my fiancé because she thought those things would make her part of high society.

Now, she was going to be trapped in a marriage with an arrogant snob and thrown into a family of archaic, wannabe nobles who would treat her like garbage because she wasn’t a Harrington.

“Nyx.” Dad’s voice drew my attention back to the call.

He had taken the phone off speaker and walked out of the noisy study, leaving the Belmonts and Victoria to argue among themselves.

“Are you safe where you are?”

“I’m completely safe, Dad,” I said softly. “I bought a place in Oak Ridge, Texas. It’s quiet, peaceful, and mine.”

“Good.”

A rare note of genuine warmth touched his voice.

“Focus on your clinic. Build your life. Zeus and I will make sure neither Tristan nor Lexi bothers you again.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I ended the call, tossed my phone onto the nightstand, and lay back against the pillows.

Outside my window, the Texas sky had transformed into brilliant shades of orange, purple, and gold. The air smelled of dry pine, earth, and freedom.

I closed my eyes and released a long, peaceful breath.

The past was behind me.

Tomorrow, my new life would begin.