The Vow I Never Took

And You What?

Lena's POV

The elevator dinged open, and I walked out, hurrying toward my apartment. Balancing the box in one arm, I fumbled with my keys and shoved one into the keyhole. Finally, I stepped inside. I pushed the door shut behind me, flung my bag aside, and kicked my shoes aside.

I placed the box on the coffee table and stared at it like it was a ticking bomb. What if it was? What if this Nathan Hale of a man had sent me some kind of explosive to punish me for refusing to accept his marriage proposal?

My mind replayed the way he had laughed on the phone earlier that day, that deep and amused sound. The man was truly insane!

Cautiously, I backed into the kitchen and grabbed the mop from the corner. Returning to the living room, I extended the mop handle and poked the box from a safe distance. Nothing happened.

I exhaled, then decided to take a more aggressive approach. I let out a short shriek and began smacking the box repeatedly with the mop.

Thwack, thwack, thwack!

When I finally stopped, I was panting heavily. My arms were a little sore, and the box was slightly battered but still intact. No explosion, no ominous ticking, no puff of smoke. Maybe it wasn’t a bomb, after all.

I edged closer and pried open the lid an inch, peering inside like I expected something to jump out at me. Instead, I saw fabric.

I frowned and opened the box fully, pulling out a dress. It was a beautiful, sequined green dress with a halter neck. The fabric shimmered under the light of my living room.

As I lifted the dress, a small note fluttered to the floor. I bent to pick it up and read the words aloud:

"This will complement your hair." I murmured. "I hope you’ll honour the invitation and attend the gala tonight. With love, Nathan Hale."

I groaned in frustration and dropped the note onto the coffee table. I was going to lose my mind! My life had spiraled into a ridiculous mess; a mess where I was being forced to attend a gala I didn’t want to attend, because of a man I didn’t want to marry, while the man I actually loved wasn’t even answering my calls.

I picked up my phone and tried David again. Straight to voicemail. My chest ached at the thought of him. Would he even believe me if I got the chance to explain? Or had I already lost him for good?

I remembered his proposal before I got the news of my engagement to Mr Hale. My heart constricted even further.

Shaking my head, I shoved the dress back into the box. I had no choice but to go to that stupid gala. I needed answers, and the only person who could give them to me was the man orchestrating this entire nightmare.

With a huff, I stomped toward the bathroom. If I was going to do this, I might as well take a shower first. My head needed it. My nerves needed it. Hell, my entire existence needed it.

********

I stepped out of the shower twenty minutes later as I wrapped a towel tightly around my body. My reflection in the mirror looked as exhausted as I felt. My mind was still spinning, but at least the water had managed to clear my head, if only a little.

Nathan Hale's name felt like a curse now. One minute, I was living my normal life, planning my future with David. In the next minutes, I was somehow engaged to a man I didn’t even know. How? Why? None of it made sense, and it infuriated me.

With a deep sigh, I walked into my bedroom and slipped into the emerald green dress he had sent. The fabric felt expensive, smooth under my fingertips. As much as I hated to admit it, the dress fit me perfectly, hugging my body in all the right places. How the hell did this creep of a man get my exact measurements?

I stared at my reflection in the mirror again. The note said it would complement my hair. Was this supposed to be a thoughtful gesture? Or another reminder that he was calling all the shots?

I sat at my vanity and grabbed my foundation, dabbing it onto my face as I started my makeup. My hands worked on autopilot: from concealer to blush, liner, and then mascara. The motions were familiar and comforting. At least this was something I could control.

As I twisted my hair into a sleek chignon, I took a deep breath. I had a plan. I would go to the gala, find Nathan Hale, and tell him straight to his face that I wasn’t interested in this ridiculous marriage. I’d remind him that I already had a fiancé, that this whole situation was a massive mistake. He was a powerful man, clearly. He had to have some way to dissolve the contract.

Right?

Right.

I grabbed my phone from the dresser and opened the Uber app, quickly booking a car. Within minutes, I received the confirmation: a black sedan would be arriving in ten minutes. I checked the time. There was no backing out now.

I slipped on a pair of heels, grabbed my clutch, and made my way downstairs. The Uber driver was waiting by the curb. I opened the door and slid into the backseat, sighing slowly as I gave him the address.

“The Clayton Grand Ballroom,” I said.

“Big night?” the driver asked, pulling away from the curb.

I laughed bitterly. “Oh, you have no idea.”

*********

When I arrived at the gala, I couldn’t care less about how beautiful the venue was. None of it mattered. I had bigger concerns.

I shoved a few bills into the Uber driver’s hands and practically stormed into the hall. The place was packed, a sea of beautifully dressed people chatting and sipping champagne. At the far end of the room, a man stood on stage, delivering a speech.

“Tonight, we gather not just as business leaders but as a community and a family. In times like this, unity and solidarity are what help us. When we lift each other up, when we extend a hand instead of turning our backs, we create something far greater than wealth: we create legacy. A future built not on power alone but on trust and on integrity. Let us remember that we are not competitors; we are allies. We are architects of tomorrow.”

The room erupted into applause, but I barely heard it. I snatched a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and downed it in one go. If I was going to get through this night, I needed alcohol and lots of it, too.

I looked around in desperation, trying to catch any sight of the man who beared the name Nathan Hale, but he was nowhere to be found.

I moved to the front of the room, looking for a seat. As I lowered myself into a chair, I finally got a clear view of the man on stage.

I nearly dropped my empty glass. It was my father!

My father, who had never stepped foot in a place like this, was standing up there like he owned it. What the hell was going on?

If my father was here, then that meant...

I scanned the room wildly, and sure enough, there she was. My mother was sitting in the middle of the hall, looking right at home among the city’s elite.

I shot up from my seat, mumbling apologies to the people around me as I walked past them. When I reached her, I collapsed into the chair beside her.

She turned to me and smiled. “Oh, darling, that dress looks divine on you. It really brings out the colour of your hair.”

I gritted my teeth at her. “Mom, what the hell is going on?”

“Language, Lena,” she chided, taking a dainty sip of her drink.

Before I could demand answers, the MC’s voice rang out. “Let’s have another round of applause for James Carter for that uplifting speech!”

I watched as my father stepped down from the stage, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries as he made his way toward us. When he reached our table, he placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

I turned to him. “You won’t believe what’s been happening to me. Some lunatic named Nathan Hale is claiming I’m married to him. There’s a contract. My lawyer says it’s legit, and I have no idea how it happened! I...”

I took a breath, searching their faces for shock, concern, outrage, or anything at all. But they just smiled. And in unison, they said, “We know.”

My mouth fell open. “You... WHAT?”

“We know about the marriage, dear,” my mother said cheerfully. “And we support it.”

I felt my pulse in my throat. “You’re joking. f*****g tell me you're joking!”

"Language, Lena!" My mother cautioned.

My father clapped me on the back as if I had just announced a promotion instead of an arranged marriage to a total stranger. “It’s a good match, Lena. You’ll see.”

I opened my mouth, closed it, then opened it again. What was happening to my life?