You opened this book, A HUGE THANK YOU!
I know what you're thinking—another billionaire romance? Another arranged marriage story? Why should this one be any different? Honestly… I can't convince you with words alone. All I can do is invite you to dive in and see for yourself. Maybe you'll find something unexpected in these pages.
The Billionaire's Vow was first published on the 2nd of May, 2025. This story has been a journey, and while it's gone through edits and improvements, it still holds all the emotions I poured into it from day one. I've tried my best to polish it and keep it as error-free as possible—but I'm human, and I'm still learning every day.
English is my primary language, but I'm still growing as a writer. So if you catch a few grammar slips or awkward phrasing here and there, I ask for your patience and understanding. My only goal is to give you a story that feels real, emotional, and unforgettable.
This book is dedicated to every reader who believes love can be messy, passionate, painful, and still worth every second. To those who crave more than just butterflies—but want the storm that comes with them.
THIS IS A MATURE CONTENT BOOK!
IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE OR NOT COMFORTABLE WITH INTENSE ROMANTIC SCENES, PLEASE DO NOT PROCEED.
THERE WILL BE EXPLICIT MOMENTS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. DO NOT COME BACK AND SAY YOU WERE SURPRISED—BECAUSE YOU SHOULDN'T BE.
Thank you for giving this story a chance.
••••••••••
The ticking of the antique clock on the wall was the only sound that dared to interrupt the relentless tap of Nathaniel Hart's fingers on the keyboard. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the skyline like a living painting—New York glittered beneath him, subdued and conquered. His office, perched on the seventy-ninth floor of Hart Enterprises, was a sleek cage of glass, steel, and leather—precise, cold, and silent.
Nathaniel didn't do distractions. Not during market hours. Not when his empire stretched across continents and the world watched his every move. At thirty-five, he was the youngest self-made billionaire to grace the cover of Forbes, and he wore that title like armor. But today, despite the fortress of silence, a single vibration on his desk sliced through the calm.
His personal phone. Only two people ever used that number.
The name flashing across the screen made his jaw tighten.
Dad.
Nathaniel sighed, leaned back in his chair, and answered. "What is it?"
"Nathaniel, I need you at the estate. Today," came the gravel-lined voice of Jonathan Hart Sr.—still a tycoon in his own right, even after retirement.
"I'm busy." Nathaniel's voice was even, clipped. "You know that."
There was a pause. The kind that carried the weight of power passed down, the kind Nathaniel didn't ignore lightly.
"This is not about business. It's about family. About legacy."
Nathaniel stared out the window, his silence an unspoken question.
"You're thirty-five. No wife. No heir. No sign of slowing down. That ends now."
Nathaniel chuckled, low and incredulous. "You called me out of a boardroom to talk matchmaking?"
"You'll marry," his father said flatly. "And I've already found her."
The laughter died in Nathaniel's throat.
"She's not from our world," Jonathan added, as if sensing the reaction. "Middle class. Teaches literature at some community college in Brooklyn."
Nathaniel stood slowly, turning away from the skyline. "Why?"
"Because she has something money can't buy," his father said. "And because if you don't come here and meet her tonight, I'll make sure the board sees your empire as unstable. You've got enemies waiting for that moment."
The line went dead.
Nathaniel stared at the phone, as if it had betrayed him.
A woman. A stranger. Middle class. This wasn't just a distraction. It was war.
And for the first time in years, Nathaniel Hart didn't feel in control.
He was being summoned—and he was expected to obey.