VOWS OF DECEPTION: THE CEO I HATE

Selena's POV

It was almost midnight and my feet were killing me.

It was a friday and Blue Lounge bar was packed, as usual. It was the same old crowd, city guys in suits, too drunk to stand but somehow still cocky enough to make my skin crawl.

"Selena!" my manager yelled from behind the bar. "Table nine's drunk and rich. Go charm 'em."

I rolled my eyes as I picked up the tray of drinks and summoned my best fake smile. "Yeah, because that always ends well." I muttered to myself. Most of the men in the bar were sleaze bags that thought they were entitled to getting in my pants.

As I walked over, I could already hear them. The loud, annoying laughter, the clink of glasses and a comment about my ass I pretended not to hear. I dropped their drinks on the table.

"Three bourbons, one gin and a martini. Anything else?"

One of them with a red tie and greasy hair grinned at me, licking his lips like I was dessert. "You, sweetheart."

I froze first, stopping myself from giving him a dirty look. Then I turned away.

Suddenly, he grabbed my wrist.

I jerked back. "Don't touch me."

"Aww, don't be like that, sweetheart," he slurred, standing up. "We're just having a good time. No need to be rude."

"I said don't touch me."

The other guys laughed like it was a show. I was just about to smack him in the head with my tray when a voice came from behind me.

"Let her go."

The guy blinked, looking up. "What?"

"I said let. Her. Go."

I turned and someone in a black hoodie with his face mostly covered. But his stance was firm and I got a very unsettling vibe from him.

Red tie scoffed. "Mind your own business, bro."

The man stepped closer. Just one step, but it was enough.

"I'm not your bro. And you've got three seconds before I make you regret touching her."

Everything went still. For a second, I thought Red tie might take a swing. But he didn't. Clearly intimidated, he backed off with a laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Whatever, man. She's not worth it anyway."

I clenched my fists. I wanted to scream at him or punch him or maybe both. But I just turned back to the stranger.

"Thanks," I said, heart still racing.

He nodded once. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just another night."

He looked at me a second longer. I expected him to say something more. But he just turned, disappearing into the crowd.

I sighed, walking back to the bar when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I looked at the screen.

Dad

I answered immediately. "Dad?"

"Selena-" His voice was frantic and his breaths were coming out heavy and shaky. "I need you to come home. Now. Please. Something's happened."

My stomach dropped. "Dad, what's going on?"

"I-I don't know. They're saying things... just come quickly."

He hung up.

I didn't waste a second.

By the time I got outside the bar, the street was mostly empty and the air was cold. Luckily I got a cab. My heart raced faster the closer we got as I wandered what awaited me at home.

When the cab finally turned the corner onto my street, I saw the flashing red and blue lights first.

Police cars. News vans. Reporters swarming like flies.

"No... God, no."

I threw cash at the driver and jumped out, running towards the house. There he was. My dad, in handcuffs. Being led out of our house like a criminal.

"Dad!"

I pushed past a reporter shoving a mic in my face. "Move!"

He saw me and froze. His eyes widened.

"Selena, go inside!"

"What's happening?" I yelled. "Why are they taking you?"

An officer tried to hold me back, but I kept reaching for my father.

"Ma'am, please step back." he warned.

"He didn't do anything!" I cried. "Tell them, Dad! Tell them you're innocent!"

He looked me directly in the eyes. And my heart broke.

"I didn't do it," he whispered. "I swear, baby girl. I didn't do it."

"Then why? w-what did they say you did?!"

"Fraud and Embezzlement. They found some secret accounts in my name. But I never... Selena, you have to believe me. I never touched any of it. Someone's setting me up."

"I know dad, I know... just tell them"

They're not listening"

They started pulling him toward the car again.

I grabbed his sleeve. "Don't take him! Please, he's all I have left!"

"Ma'am, you need to let go."

"Please! Just listen. He's innocent,"

They shut the car door in my face.

I ran after the car as it drove away, screaming at the top of my lungs. Eyes stinging, head hammering. "Dad! Dad!"

But he was gone.

And I was left standing there. In the middle of the street. Lights flashing. Reporters shouting. Cameras clicking.

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

My hand clawed at my aching chest. Tears fell from my face as I stared after the police car that took my father. The man who raised me. Who worked himself day and night to keep me safe after mum died.

He was just gone.

Framed for a crime he didn't commit.

Who could've done this? Why?

I was completely alone again. I hadn't felt such an intense feeling of loss since mum died... No, this couldn't be happening to me. Not again.

I looked around me at the chaos. The police lights reminded me of the ambulance that had taken out mum's body. And then, I was filled with rage. I couldn't fight death, but I could sure as hell fight whoever had framed my dad.

Wherever they were... I would make them pay.

SERENA'S POV

Three months.

It had been three whole months since they had taken my father away in handcuffs.

Three months since I stood in the middle of the street, crying like the world had ended. Because in a way, it had.

My life had unraveled pretty fast after that night. Legal consultations, working three jobs, court hearings...

The business my father had spent his entire life building- completely gone now. The business had already gone under a year ago due to losses, but my father had just received an opportunity for a huge grant. It was supposed to change everything.

Instead, everything changed.

His name was dragged through the mud, on every headline like he was some lowlife criminal. What little friends he had left disappeared. The shame was like a heavy coat I couldn't take off.

I remembered sitting by his side in court, watching helplessly as they tossed around allegations of embezzlement and fraud like they knew the truth. Like they knew him.

But they didn't.

My father was framed.

And the man behind it?

Victor Devereux.

The name tasted like ash in my mouth. I'd heard it so many times now-in court, in press conferences and from lawyers who claimed to have our best interests at heart. "The Devereuxs have power, Selena. You need to let this go or you might end up with your father."

But how could I? That man had ruined us. Destroyed my father's life with just a singular accusation, and a stroke of his pen. The man hadn't even come to court once. How could anyone so nonchalantly ruin another person's life?

I used to believe in justice once, in truth.

Now, I believed in revenge.

All we had left was a one-bedroom apartment paid for by the last scrap of money I had from selling my dad's old car. I worked double shifts at a café in the mornings and a delivery app at night and I still worked the bar on weekends. Just two weeks ago, I'd pawned the necklace my mother left me just to buy groceries.

Dad called me when he could. Always with the same lines.

"I'm holding on, baby."

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't waste your life on this."

But the truth was there was nothing left to waste. I had nothing else to live for.

I was lying on my cheap mattress one evening, just staring at the ceiling when my phone buzzed. A message from a blocked number.

I almost ignored it, but something in me said to look.

Unknown Number: I can help your father. But we need to meet. Discretion required. Come alone. Suite 1703, Empire Hotel. 10:49 p.m.

I stared at the message. Then reread it.

No name. No explanation. Just a location and a promise.

It could've been a scam. A trap. Someone wanting to poke at my misery. But something about it felt... different. I couldn't explain it.

And honestly?

I had nothing left to lose.

The Empire Hotel was like a different world, a world I once belonged to. Elegant, cold, I no longer fit in.

I pressed the elevator button with trembling fingers and watched the numbers climb till I reached the 17th floor. The door was already slightly ajar.

I hesitated, heart pounding as I pushed it open.

The room was dimly lit. A man stood near the window. Hoodie up. Shadowed face. Again.

Him.

I didn't have to see his features to feel it-the same quiet dominance from that night at the bar.

"You," I said before I could stop myself.

He didn't turn. "Close the door."

I did.

He finally looked at me then, but the shadows still covered most of his face. All I could see was a sharp jaw and lips pressed into a serious line.

"You're late." He said

I looked down at my watch. 10:51

"By two minutes... and who sets a meeting at exactly 10:49?"

"I value punctuality and you've already wasted two minutes of my time."

He couldn't be serious.

"You said you could help my father," I said, arms crossed. Annoyance already streaming into my voice.

"I can."

"How?"

"I have influence. The kind that makes evidence disappear and makes judges reconsider."

My chest tightened. "Why would you help me? You don't even know me."

He stepped closer, hands in his hoodie pockets. "Let's just say... I have my own reasons. But it's not charity. You'll do something for me in return."

I didn't like the way he said that. "What do you want?"

He didn't blink.

"Marry me."

I froze.

The silence between us stretched. I laughed although it wasn't genuine. But he didn't seem to be joking.

"What?"

"I want you to marry me. On paper, legally, for now."

"No," I said immediately, stepping back. "That's insane. I don't even know you."

"Is it?" he said coolly. "Your father is rotting in prison. I'm giving you a way to free him. Just one condition. You wear a ring. That sounds very logical to me."People don't just marry strangers."

"I'm not asking for love. I'm asking for commitment. One year. I take care of your father's case. In return, you become my wife."

"But why me?" I snapped. "Why not hire an actress or someone desperate to inherit a fortune?"

"That's not your concern."

I shook my head. "It kind of is. Because if I do this-if I sign something like that-I need to know what I'm getting into."

"You're getting power. Safety. A way to ruin the Devereuxs if that's what you really want."

That stopped me cold.

"What do you know about the Devereuxs?"

He didn't answer.

"You're not with them, are you?" I asked, stepping back.

"I'm here to help you Selena. I only require some trust."

"Then show me your face."

He was silent for a moment. "I can't do that. I like to keep a low profile."

"I can't even see your face but I'm supposed to get married to you and trust you?"

"Pretty simple." The nonchalant way he spoke was starting to drive me crazy. But I couldn't deny it was a... tempting offer.

"You're serious."

"Yes."

"And you swear my father goes free?"

"If you sign this," he said, handing me a black folder. "Then yes."

I flipped it open. It was a contract. Everything spelled out, even the nondisclosure clause. At the end of it was a line for my signature.

My hands trembled.

I thought about my dad. His broken voice. His prison uniform. The way he told me not to move on-but looked like he was praying I wouldn't give up.

I turned to the table by my right and picked up a pen.

"Why do I feel like I'm making a deal with the devil?" I murmured, signing the paper.

I felt him smile as he said, "Maybe you are."

SERENA'S POV

"You did what?!"

I winced as Maya dropped a tray of glasses with a loud crash behind the bar. Water and ice spilled everywhere.

"I said I got married," I repeated, lowering my voice.

"To a stranger! Selena, do you hear yourself right now?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. The bar was already too loud with drunken laughter and bad music.

"I know it sounds crazy."

"That's because it is crazy!" she hissed. "Who even is this guy?"

I hesitated. "I don't know."

"And you don't even know what he looks like."

"Not really. He wore a hoodie the whole time."

Maya blinked. "So you're telling me that you agreed to marry a dark, mysterious, hoodie-wearing stranger?"

I stared at my hands. "I didn't have a choice."

Her expression softened. "Sel-"

"My dad's all I have, Maya. I have to get him out. Even if that means marrying a man I know nothing about."

"But what if he's a creep? What if he has, like, a dungeon and weird murder hobbies? He could be a serial killer."

I managed a weak laugh. "I'm pretty sure he's had enough chances to kill me already."

"But why you? What's in it for him?"

"I asked. He said it's not my concern."

"That's definitely concerning," she muttered, brushing back her ginger hair. "What if he's secretly ancient and wants to use your womb for-"

"Maya."

"What?" She held up her hands. "I've watched documentaries. That stuff happens."

I gave her a look, then lowered my voice. "I just care about saving my father. And getting justice. Or revenge. Whatever you want to call it."

Her face turned serious again. "The Devereuxs."

The name burned like acid.

I nodded slowly. "They're going to pay, eventually, when I find them. They're never in the spotlight much. I'd have to hire an investigator first."

Maya reached across the counter and squeezed my hand. "Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"That you'll tell me everything. If he turns out to be a psycho, I'm calling the cops and a priest."

"Deal."

We both laughed, though mine was thin and a bit forced.

Deep down, I was scared. It felt like everything was moving too fast, and I didn't know what to expect next.

About halfway through my shift, I noticed a man in a suit entering the bar. His eyes scanned the room like he was looking for someone.

Then they locked on me. He walked straight to the bar.

"Selena Blake?"

I paused. "Yeah?"

Your husband sent me. I've been instructed to escort you to your new residence."

The word husband hit me like a punch.

"Wait, now?"

"Yes. Immediately."

I blinked. "I... I still have a shift to finish. And my stuff-"

"It will be moved. Your place has already been cleared."

I stared at him. "I haven't even told my landlord-"

"It's been handled."

"Okay, what?" I looked around in a panic. "I haven't even said goodbye to-"

Maya was already hurrying over, wide-eyed. "Is this the mystery man's minion?"

"Apparently."

He turned to her. "You must be Maya. I was told to assure you that your friend will be safe."

Maya raised a brow. "Is that supposed to comfort me? Because it doesn't."

"Duly noted."

Before I could argue, he was already escorting me out. Maya stopped me.

"Selena, are you sure? You don't have to do this."

No, I wasn't sure.

But my father's face flashed in my mind. The exhaustion, the pain, the cuffs. He'd suffered enough.

"I have to," I whispered.

She nodded, eyes shining. "Then be careful. And don't forget to text me. Constantly. First sigh of trouble and I'm calling the cavalry."

I squeezed her hand reassuringly. Then I followed the man into a sleek black car with tinted windows.

The drive was long and silent. We pulled into a gated estate somewhere into the hills. When the gates opened, I felt like I was entering another world.

The mansion was massive. The architecture was a work of art. Modern glass windows, black and gray stoned walls, and metal doors that looked like they could withstand a bomb. It didn't just scream wealth. It was power.

My stomach turned.

The door opened before we even reached it.

And there he was.

Hoodie. Shadowed face. Same aura of command.

"Welcome home," he said.

I stepped inside, air clogged in my throat.

"This is yours?" I asked quietly, admiring.

"Technically," he said. "But for the next year, it's yours too."

"Right," I muttered. "Wife perks."

He didn't smile. Just gestured toward a hallway.

"Come. We have rules to go over."

I followed him down a corridor into a large study. He gestured to a chair. I sat.

He remained standing. I immediately felt like a child about to receive a lecture.

"If you want to see your father again and if you want my support to continue, you'll follow my rules."

I braced myself.

"One. You will not ask questions about my business or connections."

"Figured."

"Two. You will attend functions with me when required and play the role of my wife. Convincingly."

I swallowed. "How convincingly?"

He met my eyes. "We'll get to that."

"Three. You will not attempt to discover my identity. When the time comes, I'll reveal it."

My heart stuttered. "So you are hiding something."

He ignored that.

"Four. You are not allowed to leave the premises without my permission. And no contact with the media."

I frowned. "You think I'd leak this?"

"I think desperation makes people reckless."

My fists clenched. "I'm not reckless."

He stepped closer. I could feel the chill coming off him again, like his skin beneath those clothes was made of ice.

"Then prove it."

We stared at each other, air tangled between us.

He broke the moment by handing me a silver phone. "Use this now. Your old number has been disconnected."

"You're tracking me."

"Of course."

I stood abruptly. "You really are the devil."

He tilted his head. "You signed the deal, Selena. Now you live with it."

"I at least deserve to know your name." I whispered, looking up into his shadowed face.

He hesitated as if deciding whether or not to answer. Then,

"Dante."

And with that, I became Dante's prisoner.