Page 32 of By His Vow

We could completely dominate the hospitality and tourism sector if we played it right.

We…

I almost laugh at my stupid thoughts. Even if I wanted to be a part of it, I would never be given the opportunity.

Sure, my surname grants me certain privileges in this building.

But I’m not one of “them”.

I’m not a man in a powerful suit up on the top floor of this building.

I came to terms with the fact that I’d never be as important as them years ago. I’m fine with it. It just stings every now and then.

“Good morning, Miss Warner,” Garrett, one of the doormen, greets as we pass before turning his surprised eyes on Kingston. “Mr. Callahan.”

Kingston might not be a member of the staff here, but that doesn’t mean that people don’t know who he is.

Hell, the entire city knows who the Callahan brothers are.

They’re notorious.

Gorgeous. Wealthy. Charismatic. Sexy.

Three of the most eligible bachelors Chicago has to offer, and women want to try their hand at taming them.

I mean, sure, I like a challenge as much as the next woman, but putting an end to the Callahan brothers’ manwhoring ways isn’t something that’ll be on my to-do list anytime soon.

The eyes of almost everyone in reception follow us as Kingston refuses to remove his hand and guides me toward the elevator as if I don’t know where it is.

I’ve been navigating this building almost all my life. It’s been a very long time since I’ve needed an escort.

There might be a small group of people who want to get into the elevator, but the second they see us—okay, him—approaching, they part like the Red fucking Sea, allowing us to step inside the second the doors open.

And to my utter horror, they don’t follow us inside.

When the doors close, it’s just the two of us.

“We have a board meeting this morning. But we should be done by lunch.”

“I already have plans, thanks.”

I keep my eyes locked on the floor numbers, wishing they’d move faster to my floor.

“I wasn’t asking. I was?—”

“Good,” I snap, breathing a sigh of relief when level thirteen lights up and the doors open. “Have a good day, sir. Try not to make anyone cry.”

I’m out of the enclosed space and marching toward my office before he gets a chance to respond.

With an accomplished smirk playing on my lips, I walk through the marketing department with my shoulders back and my head held high.

Everyone watches me with curious eyes.

I’ve been here since my father’s passing was announced, but not to work.

No one other than senior management knows what kind of relationship we had, so I can only assume they all expect me to be an emotional wreck incapable of working.

Well, if that’s the case, they’re about to get a shock.

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