No Promises

Vivienne was curled up in Knox’s hoodie. A new one, not the worn and torn piece of comfort she’d clung to for the past year. That one was still safe in her drawer, of course. No way was she letting him throw it out. But this hoodie was soft, still fluffy on the inside, and it smelled like him. Fresh and familiar. Perfect. And the fact that she now had access to an unlimited supply of these made her a little giddy.

She tucked her legs under her on the chaise, phone in hand, and opened the news app.

The headline hit her like a thunderclap.

WESTON CARTER AND CELESTE LANGLEY ARRESTED IN EMBEZZLEMENT SCANDAL

Her thumb froze mid-scroll.

She clicked the article.

Photos. Weston being led into a police vehicle, looking pale and furious. Celeste in sunglasses, her jaw set tight. The charges were laid out in bold: financial fraud, misappropriation of company funds, falsified wire transfers. Multiple witnesses. Paper trails.

Vivienne’s heart hammered.

How?

She’d kept her word. She hadn’t released anything. And Vince had trusted her.

He’s going to think I did this.

Panic gripped her chest. She looked up, scanning the room.

Knox was in the kitchen, stirring something in a pan like it wasn’t the end of the damn world.

“Knox,” she said, standing.

He glanced over, immediately alert. “What is it?”

She held out her phone. “Did you see this?”

His eyes skimmed the headline, and he gave a slow nod. “Yeah. That broke about twenty minutes ago.”

Her brow furrowed. “Knox… I didn’t do this. I didn’t leak anything.”

“I know,” he said.

She narrowed her eyes. “Did you?”

He set the spoon down.

“I didn’t make any promises,” he said simply. “You did. Vince asked you not to release it.”

Her stomach flipped. “Knox—”

“I made no such agreement,” he said calmly. “And I don’t owe Weston or Celeste a damn thing.”

She stared at him, stunned.

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you regret it? That they’re finally facing consequences?”

“No,” she whispered.

“Good,” he said, turning back to the stove. “Then we’re fine.”

She opened her mouth to argue, then stopped, pacing a step away.

“What if this affects the divorce?” she murmured, anxiety creeping in. “What if he claims it was all retaliation and tries to drag it out now?”

Knox didn’t answer right away. Instead, he wiped his hands on a towel, and walked to the counter.

“That’s funny,” he said lightly. “Because I think I have good news.”

He gestured to a large envelope resting beside the fruit bowl.

Vivienne stared at it.

“Reid dropped it off an hour ago.” Knox met her eyes. “You might want to open it.”

Vivienne crossed the room and slowly peeled back the flap. Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled the papers free and scanned the top sheet.

Final.

Weston’s signature. Official stamps. No contest.

It was done.

She exhaled hard, a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding for weeks. “It’s over,” she whispered. “He has no claim over me. Or the baby.”

Knox stepped closer, his hand brushing hers. “You’re free.”

Vivienne looked up at him, eyes glistening.

And then she kissed him.

It was soft at first, but Knox pulled her closer, deepening it, his arms tightening around her waist like he was already thinking about carrying her to the bedroom.

“Wait,” she murmured into his mouth. “The food.”

He paused, groaned quietly, and reluctantly let her go.

Back at the stove, he salvaged the skillet just in time. He plated some deliciously flavored chicken, roasted vegetables and lemon herb rice, and they ate in a warm, content silence.

Afterwards, Knox leaned back in his chair and studied her. “Are you tired?”

She shook her head. “Surprisingly, no. I feel… light.”

He smiled. “Good. Because I want to take you somewhere tonight.”

She tilted her head, curious. “Where?”

His eyes sparkled. “It’s a surprise. But I think you’ll like it.”

She nodded. “Alright. I’m yours.”

***

The drive was long, winding, and peaceful. The setting sun spilled gold over the hills as Knox steered them through towering gates and down a private road bordered by hedges and low stone walls. Vivienne sat quietly in the passenger seat, curiosity flickering behind her smile.

The landscape shifted gradually, the dense greenery giving way to sand-swept paths and open skies. Somewhere in the distance, the sea glittered.

“Is this… a beachside estate?” she asked.

Knox didn’t look over. “Did you ever wish those photoshopped beach wedding pictures Weston staged were real?”

Vivienne let out a breathy laugh. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

He nodded once, still driving. “Would you have liked to get married on a beach?”

She stared out the window for a moment. “No. I think I’d rather get married somewhere with trees. With green things. Wild blossoms. A little less... sterile fantasy, more grounded magic.”

She had a slight suspicion that maybe he’d brought her here to show her a beach venue or even propose on the shore, but she didn’t want him to feel pressured into marrying her just because of the baby. In a strange, sad way, she was glad to have an excuse to be honest about what she truly wanted to give him a moment to breathe before anything serious was expected of him.

He didn’t respond. Just took a turn down a narrower path, the road curling away from the beach and toward a grove of trees.

Vivienne blinked as the view opened.

A gorgeous orchard spread out before them, full of flowering blossoms swaying in the sea breeze. Pale petals floated gently to the ground, catching in the soft light that filtered between the branches. Strings of lights were woven through the trees, glowing warm against the dusk. A pale carpet ran between them like an aisle.

She stared, confused. Breathless.

Then Knox pulled the car to a stop.

He turned to her.

“How about marrying me here today?” he said, voice low. “I don’t want to wait any longer, Angel.”