The Billionaires Unwilling Vows

Knock. Knock.

"Come in," Vincent Laurent's voice echoed through the dimly lit office, gravelled with exhaustion and barely concealed irritation.

The door creaked open with purpose. A tall, sharply dressed woman stepped inside, her heels silent on the polished floors. The light caught her figure just right - tailored ivory coat, diamond drop earrings, posture like she owned the damn room.

Vincent didn't need to look up. He already knew.

"I take it you came in at this time of night because my assistant clocks out at six. She would've turned you away."

"Always so astute," the woman replied smoothly. "You know me too well, Vincent Laurent."

He sighed and finally glanced up. "What do you want, Josie?"

Her lips curled, slow and knowing. "Josie. I haven't heard that name since John died. I'd say only friends call me that, but we both know better. There's an old saying that fits us, don't you think? Keep your friends close... and the ones you despise even closer."

Vincent snorted, but said nothing. He leaned back, eyeing her like she was something venomous slithering over his carpet. The silence pressed in, dense as fog.

She smiled - the kind that told you not to turn your back.

"Let's not waste time. I want your daughter to marry my son."

Vincent blinked. Then... he laughed. A short burst, deep from the chest, rich with disbelief.

Josephine remained still, arms folded, watching him with that arctic calm she wore like perfume.

"I'm sorry," Vincent said once he caught his breath. "You want who to marry?"

"I said Leo and Celeste."

That silenced him.

He stared, jaw tense, eyes calculating. "Absolutely not."

Her brows lifted delicately. "Pardon?"

"No. It's not happening. Your son is a manipulative, entitled prick, and Celeste would rather set herself on fire than walk down the aisle with him."

Josephine's voice was silk on steel. "This marriage benefits both families. Legacy, consolidation, reputation. With our companies aligned, we'd monopolize three industries by Q4. You're drowning in quiet legal fires and you know it. Your stock's been fluttering for months-"

"I don't need you to recite my quarterly reports, Josephine," he cut in sharply. "My business is stable. I've survived worse."

"And yet," she murmured, glancing at his half-drunk glass of scotch, "you don't sleep at night."

He stood, pacing slowly, jaw grinding. "You already have more money than God. Why the obsession with mine?"

"Because I don't want the money, Vincent. I want the control. The leverage. The future." She paused. "And your daughter is the key."

"My daughter is not a pawn."

"No, she's a golden ticket."

He turned sharply, face reddening. "She's not some little piece you get to move around for your amusement!"

"I'm not amused," Josephine said coolly. "I'm strategic. And so are you. So drop the righteous indignation and listen carefully."

He walked back to his desk, slow and stiff. "Even if I agreed, she'd never go along with it. Celeste and I barely speak as it is. And Leo? You think I'd feed my daughter to the same brat who bullied both my girls when they were teenagers?"

"You will make her," Josephine replied softly, tone razor-sharp. "Because you don't have a choice."

Vincent narrowed his eyes. "You're bluffing."

Josephine stepped closer, pulling a slim folder from her purse and sliding it across the desk.

"I'm not," she said.

He opened the folder - one glance was enough. His expression froze.

"You wouldn't," he whispered.

"Try me."

"You're threatening to expose Celine's affair?" he asked, voice suddenly hollow. "After all these years?"

"Not just the affair," Josephine said with a glint in her eye. "The cover-up of the trial. The money that changed hands. The false reports. You went to great lengths to protect your wife's image. You falsified police documents to protect your family from disgrace."

Vincent's hands curled into fists, blood draining from his face.

"You think the media won't touch it because it's old news? Please. They'd feast on this. And your precious daughters would be crucified by public opinion."

"You'd ruin them just to get what you want?"

"I'd ruin anyone who stands in my way," she said with perfect poise. "The difference is, you actually have something to lose and not just Celine's precious reputation."

He stood so abruptly his chair nearly toppled. "Don't. You dare. Utter. My wife's name again."

Josephine didn't flinch. "You think you can protect them from this storm, Vincent? There's no version of this where your family walks away unscathed - unless Celeste marries Leo. Quietly. Legally. Cleanly. We both win, no one bleeds."

His nostrils flared. "You're an evil bitch. Anyone ever told you that?"

"Perhaps. But I'm also effective."

A long silence stretched between them.

Finally, Vincent muttered through clenched teeth, "Fine. I'll make sure Celeste marries Leonardis. But the contract must include a clause - none of this comes out. Ever."

Josephine's smile returned, slow and vicious. "Of course."

"And how the hell do you plan on convincing Leo?"

She retrieved another folder, thicker, heavier, and dropped it on the desk like a judge's gavel.

"I'm letting it seem like an old family agreement. Tied to the merger. He believes it's the only way to shield the company from a hostile takeover. You businessmen are so easy to manipulate when you think you're doing the noble thing."

Vincent's shoulders dropped. He looked ten years older.

Josephine tapped the folder once. "Sign it."

He didn't move.

"I said-" she leaned in, eyes gleaming- "sign it."

And with a shaking hand, Vincent Laurent picked up the pen.

_______

Chapter 1 - Worst Mistake

I should have run when I had the chance.

I stood at the entrance of the Astor estate, my heels sinking into the gravel driveway as my fingers clenched around the Engagement Dinner invitation-more like a death sentence written in gold foil. Inside, chandeliers dripped from cathedral ceilings, and guests draped in designer labels sipped champagne as if this was some fairytale union rather than a cold-blooded contract. I didn't belong here. Not in this world of ruthless billionaires and backroom deals. Not beside him.

Leonidas Astor.

The man I was being forced to marry.

He stood at the far end of the room, a glass of whiskey hanging from his fingertips, looking like the devil himself had sculpted him-sharp suit, sharper jawline, and eyes so dark they could swallow you whole. He was watching me, amused, like he knew I was on the verge of bolting.

Like he wanted me to try.

I hated him.

I hated that he had power over me. That he could snap his fingers, and my entire life would be rewritten. My family had sold me to the highest bidder, and I didn't even know the price until they told me I was to marry Leo.

A waiter brushed past me, offering a tray of champagne, but my throat was too tight, my pulse hammering so fast I could barely breathe. This wasn't happening. I was supposed to have a choice. I was supposed to live a life on my own terms. But instead, I was being thrown into a marriage designed to keep the empire from collapsing, bound to a man who had no intention of loving me. I had no intention of loving him either.

His family needed this merger. My family needed to save face. And I... I was collateral damage.

"Celeste."

My father's voice sent a shiver down my spine. Cold. Commanding. The same tone he used when I was a child, when I dared to dream of a life outside of the one he'd chosen for me. I turned slowly, schooling my face into blank indifference.

He nodded toward the front of the ballroom, where a podium stood waiting. "Time to make the announcement."

No.

I turned back to Leo, who was still watching me, one eyebrow arched like he was daring me to defy him. To defy them all. And God, I wanted to. I wanted to grab one of those champagne flutes and launch it at his perfect, infuriating face. I wanted to tell the entire room that I was not some pawn to be moved across a chessboard for their benefit.

But I couldn't. Because if I didn't go through with this, my family would lose everything.

The next thing I knew, I was being ushered onto the stage, my father's hand pressing into the small of my back, a silent warning in his grip. I could feel every eye in the room on me. Waiting. Judging. Smiling with feigned delight as my life was signed away in front of them.

Leo stepped onto the stage beside me, his presence an unmovable force. He took the microphone from the announcer, his deep, measured voice filling the space. "It's my pleasure to announce my engagement to Celeste Laurent."

A wave of polite applause. A few whispers. My stomach turned.

Then he turned to me, his dark gaze locking onto mine with something unreadable. A challenge? A warning? I wasn't sure.

He reached for my hand, and instinctively, I pulled away. A flicker of something dangerous passed through his eyes, gone before I could name it. Then, he smirked, leaned down, and whispered, "Run if you want, Celeste. But there's nowhere in the world I won't find you."

My blood ran cold.

The crowd was still clapping, still watching, but all I could see was him. The man who now held my fate in his hands.

And I had just made the worst mistake of my life.

_____

Hours later, after the crowd had dwindled and the last of the guests had left, I found myself standing on the balcony of the Astor estate, staring out at the darkened city skyline. The crisp night air did little to cool the fire burning in my veins.

I had to get out of this.

Running wasn't an option-not yet. But if I could find a way to convince my father, to make him see that this was a mistake, maybe there was a way out.

The sound of footsteps behind me made my shoulders tense.

"I was wondering when you'd try to escape."

Leo's voice was smooth, rich with amusement. I turned, my pulse kicking up as he stepped closer. The glow from the balcony lights cast shadows across his sharp cheekbones, making him look even more dangerous.

"I wasn't trying to escape," I lied.

His lips curved. "No? Then what are you doing out here all alone?"

I lifted my chin, refusing to let him intimidate me. "Thinking."

"Thinking about what?" He stepped closer, crowding me against the railing. "About how you're going to pretend to be a good little fiancée? Or about how you're going to run the first chance you get?"

I swallowed hard, hating that he saw right through me.

His hand came up, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. "Let me give you some advice, Celeste." His voice dropped, turning almost... possessive. "You can fight this all you want. You can hate me. You can even try to run. But it won't change the fact that we're going to married whether you or I like it or not."

I shivered, not from the cold but from the weight of his words. From the terrifying truth of them.

Because as much as I wanted to deny it, I knew one thing for sure:

The Astors always got what they wanted.

And right now, what they wanted-was me.

I glared at him and turned on my heel, walking away without another word.

He grabbed my arm, yanking me back towards him so roughly I nearly lost my footing.

Oh no he didn't!

His grip was iron. Cold, bruising, unyielding.

"Let. Me. Go," I gritted out, trying to wrench my arm free.

Instead of releasing me, Leonidas Astor yanked me closer, so fast, so violent, I stumbled straight into his chest. My pulse spiked with fury. His breath was steady, but his grip was steel. A silent warning. A challenge.

SMACK!

The slap cracked across his cheek, so loud it rang in my ears. His head snapped to the side, his jaw tightening like a vice. Stillness. Silence.

And then-a laugh.

Low. Dangerous. Almost... amused.

The bastard was laughing.

Something about that infuriating smirk-that twisted, taunting, self-assured smirk-sent my blood boiling.

"Let's get one thing straight, Leonidas," I seethed, my voice shaking with rage. "We may be getting married, but if you ever put your hands on me like that again, you will regret it."

His fingers flexed on my arm before he finally let go, his eyes glittering with something dark, unhinged, lethal.

"If I recall," he mused, tilting his head, "you just hit me, Celeste."

"Yeah?" I sneered. "And if you touch me again, I'll do a lot worse."

His expression didn't flicker. No anger, no shock. Just... icy amusement.

"That's adorable," he drawled, rubbing his jaw. "Do tell, princess-what exactly do you think you can do to me?"

I took a step back, chin high, my blood roaring in my ears. "You think being a rich little trust fund brat makes you untouchable? Cute. But let's be clear-I don't care how much money or power you have. If you ever try to control me, you'll wish you hadn't."

Leonidas smiled. Mocking. Cruel.

"And here I thought you'd already made my life hell," he murmured, voice silky with venom. "But no, you're just getting started, aren't you?"

"Damn right."

His smirk widened. "Oh, Celeste. Do you think you're special? Do you think you're different? That you have any say in what happens next?" He stepped forward, invading my space, voice dropping to a low, lethal whisper. "You will be my wife, and when that day comes, you will belong to me which means I can do whatever I want with you."

I felt my stomach turn, but I refused to step back.

"You're delusional," I spat.

"No, sweetheart," he said, his tone almost gentle, which somehow made it worse. "I'm just realistic."

I glared at him. "Over my dead body."

"Funny," he mused, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve. "I don't need you alive to make this marriage happen."

A chill skated down my spine, but I refused to show it. Instead, I laughed. Loud. Mocking.

"That's the best you've got? Threats? Wow. I expected more from the great Leonidas Astor," I mocked. "What's wrong, golden boy? Family legacy hanging by a thread?"

His jaw flexed. I'd struck a nerve.

"Careful, Celeste," he murmured, his voice all smooth, sharp edges. "You don't know what you're playing with."

I stepped closer, deliberately, daringly, and whispered, "Neither do you."

For the first time, his smirk faltered.

For the first time, I saw the cracks.

And then, just as quickly, he masked it.

"You think you can win this?" His voice was low, cutting, razor-sharp. "You think you can walk away from me? From this? You can't. Your father signed your life away. You are mine, and you will do as you're told."

I scoffed. "Right, because I'm just some obedient little pet, is that it?" I tilted my head, eyes narrowing. "Well, here's the thing, Leo-I don't play by your rules."

His lips curled in disgust. "You're a spoiled, selfish little bitch, you know that?"

I grinned.

"And you're a sad, power-hungry, mommy-and-daddy's-money-made-me-this-way little prick," I shot back. "So tell me, who wins in this game?"

His stare burned into me, his breathing slow and controlled, but his hands had curled into fists.

He wanted to hit me. He wanted to break me.

But he wouldn't.

Because then he'd lose.

"You think you're better than me?" His voice was dangerously quiet.

I let the silence stretch before answering.

"I don't think I am," I whispered. "I know I am."

Something dark flickered in his gaze. And then-he laughed.

"Fuck," he muttered, shaking his head. "You really are a pain in my ass."

"Thank you," I said sweetly. "I try."

His gaze flicked to my lips for the briefest second before snapping back up.

"This isn't over," he murmured, voice thick with warning.

I stepped past him, brushing my shoulder against his in the most dismissive, condescending way possible.

"Oh, sweetheart," I whispered, my voice dripping with mockery. "This has only just begun."

I felt his stare drilling into my back as I walked away, the weight of his presence thick in the air between us. The war had begun, and neither of us planned to lose.

And just like that, war was declared.

And neither of us planned to lose.

The next day, I stormed into her father's office, slamming the door so hard the walls seemed to shake.

"This is a joke, right?" I snapped, marching up to his desk. "You can't seriously expect me to go through with this farce of a wedding! Call it off. Now."

My father, Vincent Laurent, a tall, built, intimidating looking businessman, barely glanced up from the stack of papers he was reading. "Good afternoon to you too, Celeste."

I planted my hands on his desk and leaned forward. "I'm not playing, Dad. I am not marrying Leonidas Astor."

He sighed, setting his pen down with deliberate patience and combing through his ash-black hair with his hand. "We've been through this. The deal is done."

"Then undo it! I'll marry someone else-anyone else! Just not him!"

Vincent's expression hardened. "We are not 'undoing' anything. You know exactly why this is happening. The Laurents and the Astors have been intertwined for decades. This isn't just about you, Celeste. It's about our legacy."

"Legacy?" I scoffed. "You want to talk about legacy? What about my life? My future? What about the fact that the person you're forcing me to marry made my high school years a living nightmare?"

Vincent's eyes flickered with mild irritation. "You and Leo were best friends once."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, when we were ten! Do you not remember what happened after that? Do you not remember the endless days where he made my life a misery? The pranks? The public humiliation? The way he turned the entire school against me?"

Vincent exhaled heavily. "You were kids. He was a boy figuring out his own place in the world."

My hands curled into fists. "He slept with my sister."

Silence blanketed the office. A tense, suffocating silence.

Vincent finally looked at me, his expression unreadable. Then he shrugged. "So we're keeping it in the family. Big deal."

I felt the air rush from her lungs. "Are you serious? Are you actually serious right now? He humiliated me, Dad! Every single day of high school! Do you even remember how many nights I came home in tears because of him? How close I was to-"

"STOP!"

Vincent's voice cracked like a whip, his entire demeanor shifting. His eyes bore into hers, cold and unyielding. "Not another word. This marriage is happening. End of discussion."

I clenched her jaw, my entire body trembling with rage. "You really don't care, do you? Not about me. Not about what I want."

"I care about this family. And if you were thinking rationally instead of throwing a tantrum, you would too. It's five years, Celeste. Five years, one heir, and then you can do whatever you want."

I shook my head. "You act like I'm signing up for a gym membership. Five years is a long time! And what's this about an heir?"

Vincent leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as if I were exhausting him. "The Astors want a child. It was added into the contract."

My heart nearly stopped. "A CHILD?! I don't remember agreeing to that."

"Because you didn't have a choice."

I stared at him in horror. "Then tell them to adopt."

My father gave her a pointed look, amused at my apparent naivety. "Celeste, be serious. We don't let outsiders inherit billions. This is about our bloodlines."

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "We are not royals, Dad. This isn't some medieval empire. This is my life."

Vincent's patience had clearly reached its limit. He waved a dismissive hand. "I have work to do, and frankly, I've heard enough of this tantrum. You can stomp your feet all you want, but it won't change a damn thing. Now, get out."

I just stood there, my breathing heavy, my vision swimming with rage.

I turned on my heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind me. If I had been furious at the engagement party, it was nothing compared to this.

They wanted me to be a pawn in their perfect little game? Fine.

Let the games begin.