MARRIED TO THE BILLIONAIRE'S HEIRLOOM

THE VOW

ANNETTE'S POV

I reached my lodge, the events of the evening still swirling in my mind like a tumultuous storm. Stripping off my shirt in the bathroom, I could feel my friends' curious gazes boring into me, their silent questions hanging in the air like unspoken whispers.

Melissa voiced the question on everyone's mind. "What happened, Annette?"

I sighed, the memory of my encounter with that man still fresh in my mind. "I bumped into that crazy man again," I confessed, my tone heavy with resignation.

Jane's raised brow mirrored my own confusion. "Which man?"

I hesitated, knowing full well how absurd my explanation would sound. "The man from the club balcony in London that I insulted while I was drunk," I explained, bracing myself for their incredulous reactions. "He is the one who proposed marriage to me last night."

Melissa's eyes widened in disbelief. "But you've just met him," she exclaimed, her voice tinged with incredulity.

I nodded, unable to suppress a wry smile. "That's what I thought. But he's wealthy and undeniably attractive," I admitted, "Yet, I can't shake the feeling that he's a seasoned player when it comes to women. Besides, marriage shouldn't be based on some paper."

Sheila cut in with a pointed question. "So, what are you going to do, Annette?"

I drew in a deep breath, "I've already declined his offer," I replied. "There's no thinking of what I should do."

Before anyone could respond, the shrill ring of my phone shattered the uneasy silence. The caller ID displayed our family doctor, Dr. Ethan. With a sinking heart, I answered, dreading the news I knew awaited me.

Dr. Ethan's voice, tinged with concern spoke.

"Your mother's condition had worsened by this morning and I'm afraid chemotherapy won't do anything at this point. What I'll advise is for you to find the money and let us carry on with the surgery."

"Thanks for calling, Doctor. I...I'll find a way to get money soon," I promised before abruptly ending the call. As I turned back to my friends, their pitying gazes bore into me, their unspoken sympathy a bittersweet reminder of my predicament.

"I said no," I declared, my voice tinged with defiance.

But Sheila spoke up again, her gentle voice ringing in my head. "But you need the money, Annette," she pointed out. "It's something you can't deny. Just think of it as helping your mom."

I sighed, the weight of desperation pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. "I know," I murmured, my voice barely audible above the din of my thoughts.

With a resigned sigh, Sheila produced a small sound recorder, her eyes alight with mischief. "All you have to do is focus on the money," she said, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Forget about feelings."

I hesitated, my fingers trembling as I reached for the recorder. With a heavy heart, I pressed the record button, my words echoing in the stillness of the room. "I vow to never fall in love," I stated firmly, my voice tinged with bitterness. "I'm only here for the money."

As Sheila smiled and enveloped me in a comforting embrace, I couldn't help but wonder if the price of my mother's salvation was too high a cost for my own happiness. But for now, I pushed those thoughts aside.

At night, I dialed Connor's number, my heart pounding with each ring. As I sat on the bed, my legs crossed and my friends eagerly gathered around, Melissa silently gestured for me to put my phone on speaker. With an eye roll, I obliged, hoping against hope that Connor hadn't changed his mind about our arrangement.

After five agonizing rings, he finally picked up, his voice grudging and tired. "Who is this?"

I took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage I possessed. "It's Annette," I replied, my voice steady despite the butterflies dancing in my stomach. "I thought with all your wealth, you'd have a device that could detect my voice."

A soft chuckle echoed through the phone, sending shivers down my spine. "I'll never tire of your sharp tongue, Annette," Connor said, his tone laced with amusement. "It's a pity I can't explore what else your mouth can do besides hurling words like weapons."

I bit my lip to suppress the blush threatening to engulf my cheeks, cursing myself for my lack of composure. "You must be wondering why I called," I echoed his question, stalling for time as I gathered my thoughts. "I might have... reconsidered our last discussion."

There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the line, stretching into an eternity as I held my breath, waiting for his response.

"Hello? Are you there?"

"Text me your address," he said, his voice unreadable. "I'll send a car to pick you up."

I opened my mouth to protest, to ask if it was too much of an imposition, but he had already hung up. My friends squealed with delight, their excitement infectious as they pushed me towards the closet, eager to choose the sexiest dress they could find despite my protests.

An hour later, a sleek black limousine arrived to whisk me away, the epitome of luxury and extravagance. It was my first time in such opulent surroundings, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease at the stark contrast between my humble existence and Connor's world of wealth and privilege.

As we pulled up to his mansion, my jaw dropped in awe at the sheer size of the estate, dwarfing my modest London apartment building in comparison. Every inch of the mansion seemed to shimmer in the soft glow of the evening light, casting an ethereal glow that bathed the surroundings in an otherworldly radiance.

I was led into the grand foyer by a silent maid, my coat collected and whisked away before I could protest. Left standing alone in the living room, I felt uncomfortably out of place in my simple pink gown, the fabric clinging to my curves in a way that made me acutely aware of every inch of my body.

And then, I heard his voice behind me, sending a shiver down my spine and igniting a spark of anticipation within me. "Annette," he said, his voice low and commanding, as he stepped into view, his presence looming over me like a specter from my wildest dreams.

As Connor approached me, his towering frame casting a shadow over my smaller form, I couldn't help but feel a surge of primal attraction coursing through my veins. His black t-shirt stretched over his broad chest, the fabric clinging to every contour of his muscular physique, while his grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, emphasizing the powerful strength of his legs. And his face... oh, his face did things to me that I dared not put into words, stirring a tempest of desire deep within the recesses of my being.

I mentally slapped myself, forcing my wandering thoughts back to reality. Focus, Annette, I chided myself, though it was a futile endeavor against the overwhelming tide of physical and s****l attraction that threatened to consume me whole.

Connor gestured towards a plush couch, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers cascading down my spine. "Please, have a seat," he said, his tone both commanding and inviting.

A maid appeared as if summoned by magic, offering me a glass of water with a warm smile. I thanked her gratefully, though my attention remained firmly fixed on Connor, who observed me with an intensity that made my heart race.

"I didn't think you'd actually come," Connor remarked, his gaze unwavering as he settled into a chair opposite me.

I shrugged nonchalantly, though the truth was far from indifferent. "I didn't really have a choice," I admitted, my voice tinged with resignation. "And staying single would have been dreadfully boring."

A smirk tugged at the corners of Connor's lips, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You'll never be bored with me, Annette," he declared, his voice a low murmur that sent a thrill coursing through me.

Unable to resist the infectious warmth of his smile, I felt myself mirroring his expression like a lovesick teenager. But then, doubt crept in, a shadow cast over the burgeoning attraction between us.

"What could be more interesting about me," I found myself blurting out before I could stop myself, "when you've undoubtedly tasted the finest women the world has to offer?"

Connor's expression darkened, his brows knitting together in a frown as his voice took on a deeper timbre. "Is that what you think of me, dear?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of hurt.

I shook my head, regret washing over me like a tidal wave. "I don't know what to think," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Connor sighed, the weight of his past burdens evident in the lines etched upon his handsome face. "It's not my fault I've been betrayed by the one woman I loved," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "Since then, I've found it difficult to trust anyone else enough to marry them or commit to them."

Gazing into his eyes, I felt a pang of sympathy for the man before me, his vulnerability laid bare for all to see. "I'm sorry," I murmured, my heart aching for the pain he had endured.

But Connor shook his head, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "It's okay," he reassured me, his gaze lingering on mine with a warmth that made my pulse quicken. "I'm just glad you're here now."

As he studied me with an intensity that set my skin ablaze, I couldn't help but wonder what lay beneath the surface of his steely exterior. Did he truly feel the same pull of attraction that I did, or had he merely chosen me because I appeared innocent and pure? Only time would tell, but one thing was certain—whether by fate or by choice, I wanted this man more than I had ever wanted anything in my life.