The Billonaire's Broken Vows

Chapter 3

Sophie’s Pov

I couldn’t sleep.

It was three in the morning, and I was standing in the kitchen of the Kingston estate, staring at a cup of tea that had gone cold an hour ago. My mind wouldn’t stop racing. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Daniel’s face when I mentioned that I’d seen Noah. The way his entire body had tensed up. The way he’d asked me what Noah had said, like those few words were dangerous.

I kept replaying the conversation in my head. “Daniel’s always saying things that aren’t true.” What did that even mean? And why did it feel like Noah was warning me about something I didn’t understand?

My first night in the Kingston estate had been horrible. The bed was too big, the room was too quiet, and I felt like I was suffocating under the weight of my own choices. I’d traded my entire future for a promise. For money. For security.

For a lie, maybe.

I set the cold tea down and decided to explore the house instead of trying to sleep. If I was going to be living here, I might as well figure out where everything was. Wandering around seemed safer than lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering if I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.

The Kingston estate was like a maze at night. Long hallways that all looked the same. Rooms that were locked or empty. Portraits of people I didn’t recognize staring down at me like they were judging my presence here. I walked for what felt like hours, just trying to tire myself out.

That’s when I found the library.

It was hidden behind a heavy wooden door on the second floor. When I pushed it open, I felt like I’d stepped into another world. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered every wall. There was a massive fireplace with comfortable-looking chairs positioned in front of it. Windows looked out over the moonlit gardens.

It was the most beautiful room I’d seen in this entire house.

I pulled a random book off the shelf and settled into one of the chairs. The book turned out to be poetry. There was something about the words that made sense when nothing else did.

I was so absorbed in reading that I didn’t hear him come in.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

I jumped, nearly dropping the book. Noah was standing in the doorway, wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His dark hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it.

“I didn’t hear you,” I said.

“Most people don’t,” he replied. “Are you enjoying the book?”

I looked down at what I was holding. “I’m not sure yet. I don’t usually read poetry.”

“What do you usually read?”

I thought about it. The truth was, I didn’t have time to read much of anything. But I wasn’t going to tell Noah that. He already looked at me like he could see straight through every pretense I was trying to hold up.

“I like stories,” I said carefully. “Real ones. Not made up.”

Noah smiled, and it was actually genuine this time. “Life is made up, Sophie. That’s the thing about stories. They’re the only true things we have.”

He pulled down a book from a high shelf and handed it to me. “Read that instead. It’s about a woman who realized everything she thought she knew was a lie. I think you might relate to it.”

The title was “The Unveiling,” and I had no idea what he meant by his comment, but I took the book anyway.

“Why are you being nice to me?” I asked. “Daniel said you were dangerous.”

Noah laughed, and it was a sad sound. “Daniel would say that. Did he tell you why I’m supposed to be dangerous?”

“He just said you made poor choices.”

“Poor choices,” Noah repeated the words like they tasted bad. “That’s one way to describe it. Did he mention that I was framed? That I didn’t actually do what everyone thinks I did?”

I stared at him. “No.”

“Of course he didn’t,” Noah said. He moved toward the window and looked out at the moonlit gardens. “This family is very good at rewriting history. Very good at making sure that their version of the truth is the only version people ever hear.”

“Then why not tell people the real truth?” I asked.

Noah turned to look at me. “Because the real truth would destroy everything. And some families would rather let one person suffer than admit that their foundation is built on lies.”

“Is that what happened to you?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “But that’s not what I came here to talk about.”

He pulled a chair closer to mine and sat down. I could see every detail of his face. The exhaustion around his eyes. The tension in his jaw. The sadness that seemed to live in him.

“I came here to warn you,” Noah said. “About Daniel. About this family. You’re about to marry into something far more complicated than a simple love story.”

My heart started to race. “What do you mean?”

“Daniel didn’t choose you at random,” Noah said. “There are reasons he pursued you. Reasons that have nothing to do with love and everything to do with control.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know my brother. And I can see it in the way you move around this house like you’re terrified. You don’t love him, do you?”

I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t lie to him, but I couldn’t tell him the truth either.

“Sophie,” Noah said, and his voice was gentler now. “Whatever reason you had for saying yes to Daniel, staying here might be more dangerous than you realize.”

“Are you threatening me?” I whispered.

“No,” he said. “I’m trying to save you.”

He stood up and walked toward the door, but before he left, he turned back to me one more time.

“Stay out of the basement archives,” he said. “If you find anything down there about the business, about what happened five years ago, don’t tell anyone. Not Daniel. Not anyone. Can you promise me that?”

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“I know you don’t,” Noah replied. “But promise me anyway.”

And I did.

I promised him, sitting there in that beautiful library at three in the morning, holding a book about a woman whose life was built on lies, that I would keep whatever secrets I found hidden.

It was a promise that would change everything.