Shattered Vows: The Billionaire's Karma

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My skull cracks against the freezing concrete.

Hot blood soaks into my eyelashes.

My fianc drops to his knees to shield the other woman from the wreckage.

You take the hit today, Kensington. Deal with it.

Weeks later, his knees hit my living room floor.

His hands dig into my ankles.

I ruined her entire life for you!

Tears spill down his bruised face.

"Please just let us start over."

Chapter 1

My parents had practically pushed us out the door to get our marriage license before the holidays. I kept my eyes on the road heading to the courthouse.

In the passenger seat, Tristan shifted. His gaze burned into the side of my face. "Are you sure you want to marry me? If I told you I've been sleeping with Gia? With other women? What would you do?"

I slammed on the brakes. The tires screeched. My neck snapped toward him. "Don't joke about that."

"I'm not joking, baby." A slow, lazy smirk spread across his lips. He leaned across the center console. His colognesandalwood and expensive scotchfilled my lungs. His knuckles grazed my cheek as he tucked a stray hair behind my ear. "I had Gia and another girl in my bed last night."

He pulled back, his eyes dark and unapologetic. "So. Are we still signing those papers? It's up to you."

All the blood drained from my face. My skin turned to ice. My fingers gripped the leather steering wheel until my knuckles turned stark white. My hands shook uncontrollably against the leather.

"We grew up together. My feelings for you haven't changed. I still want you to be my wife, Kensington." Tristan reached over, wrapping his warm, solid fingers around my trembling hand. His touch was so practiced. So gentle. "But I refuse to spend the rest of my life sleeping with just one woman. I've been so happy lately. Haven't you noticed?"

My brow furrowed. I couldn't process the words leaving his mouth.

His smirk widened. "It's the thrill. Remember that night I called you to the campus lab in a panic?" He tilted his head. "Lexi was right there under my desk. Taking care of me."

Nausea clawed up my throat. Bile burned the back of my tongue. The memory slammed into me.

Tristan's frantic voicemail begging for my help with his thesis data. When I'd sprinted into the lab, his panic was gone. He was glued to his rolling chair, staring at his monitor. His jaw was clenched, his features tight with repressed pleasure. A heavy, uneven rhythm to his breathing. Now, staring at his twisted smile in the car, a sickening chill washed over my entire body as the truth finally slammed into me.

My childhood sweetheart. The man who promised me a ring the second we finished grad school. He hadn't just cheated. He had weaponized me. He turned my devotion into a sick kink for his little games.

My vocal cords scraped together, the words tearing out in a pathetic, ragged whisper. "Do you have any idea what happened when I walked home alone that night? Bo cornered me near the campus quad. He almost assaulted me."

Tristans brows knitted together. He unbuckled his seatbelt, hauled me across the console, and crushed me against his chest. His large hand stroked my hair. "I know, baby. I know. Thank God Bruce was on patrol to pull him off you. I would have never forgiven myself." He kissed the top of my head. "So. Are we still getting married?"

My lungs seized. I shoved my palms against his chest, scrambling backward until my spine slammed into the driver's side door. Tears spilled over my lashes, scalding my cheeks. The man sitting inches away from mewith his perfectly styled hair and sharp jawlinewas a total stranger.

"Why?" The word tore from my throat, broken and jagged. "Why are you telling me this now? Literally on the way to the courthouse?"

He reached out. His thumb brushed away a tear tracking down my jaw, the motion sickeningly familiar. Sickeningly gentle. "You're too sweet, Kensington. You're a total green flag. I didn't want to blindside you and have you find out later." He dropped his hand. "Even if we say 'I do' today, my bachelor era isn't ending. I'm not going back to being a one-woman guy. Can you handle that?"

A gut-wrenching sob ripped through my teeth. My chest caved in on itself. I couldn't form a single syllable.

Tristans own eyes glistened red under the dashboard lights. "Kensington, from five to twenty-five, it was just you and me. But I'm twenty-five now! I am in my prime, and I refuse to waste it. I need to experience things. I need to live. We aren't sheltered college kids anymore. I'm stepping up as CEO of my family's firm next month." He let out a scoff, shaking his head. "You grew up in the same upper-east-side circles I did. You know how this works. Show me one powerful man who doesn't blow off steam on the side."

Chapter 2

My entire body shook. Hot tears and snot ruined my makeup, blurring my vision. He was telling the truth. I justI always thought he was the exception. Maybe every other guy on the planet was a walking red flag, wired to betray their partners, but not my Tristan.

At five years old, he had stood in front of our parents, declaring he would marry me. He had promised to love meand only mefor the rest of his life. Everyone in the room had burst into laughter at his earnest, childish vow.

Now? The ground beneath me shattered.

My chest heaved. I couldn't drag enough oxygen into my burning lungs.

A FaceTime call from my parents lit up my phone screen. I frantically wiped my face, swiping accept.

"Kensington," my mom beamed, her eyes wide with expectation. "Well? Did you guys sign the marriage license at the courthouse? Show us!"

A second later, his parents crowded into the frame. His mom looked at me with adoration. "Oh, sweet Kensington. Welcome to the family, officially."

A sharp spasm ripped through my chest. I jerked my gaze to Tristan.

He leaned back, unbothered. A lazy smirk played on his lips as he mouthed the words. "Say whatever you want."

I turned back to the screen. Four beaming faces stared back at me. I opened my mouth. I wanted to scream that there would be no courthouse wedding, that Tristan and I were over. But wet cotton shoved down my windpipe, choking off the words. I dragged in a ragged breath, forcing my vocal cords to steady. "We signed it."

Tristan let out a low chuckle. He leaned into the frame, his mask of perfection locked into place. "The paperwork is already filed away securely. We'll show you guys at the holiday dinner. Right now, I'm taking Kensington shopping for her wedding gift!"

Relief and joy washed over their faces. Every smile was a blow to my chest. I had to look away. I couldn't stomach the sight of them.

Then, my eyes landed on the back seat. Tucked in the shadowy corner was a pair of torn, sheer stockings.

They weren't mine. My skin crawled with absolute disgust as ice flooded my veins. A strangled sob ripped from my throat.

"Kensington? Honey, why are you crying?" my mom's voice spiked with panic. "Did Tristan do something stupid? You tell your dad, and he'll knock some sense into him!"

His dad chimed in immediately, just like he always did when Tristan and I fought. He always took my side.

I scrubbed roughly at my wet cheeks, forcing a tight smile. "No. No, I'm just so happy. Happy tears."

The tension melted from the screen. All four of them laughed.

"I still remember when Tristan gave you that promise ring after high school graduation. You were a sobbing mess then, too. That shower of cherry blossom petals he set up was ridiculous. The boy takes after mehe knows how to pull out all the stops to spoil his girl," his dad chuckled.

"We'll throw a massive celebration dinner when you two come home for the holidays!" his mom added. "Alright, alright. Let's let the newlyweds be. Go get those gifts."

Tristan tapped the screen, ending the call with a satisfied smirk.

The last thread of my sanity snapped.

I swung my arm, slapping him across the face with every ounce of strength I had. "You screwed them in my car?!" I shrieked.

He rolled his jaw, unfazed by the sting. He nodded. "Yeah. Last night. But it wasn't Lexi from the lab. Kensington, they weren't the first. And they definitely won't be the last."

Each word was a jagged blade twisting into my gut. Acid burned the back of my throat. My organs felt like they were liquefying.

"Get out. Get the hell out!" I shoved him. I kicked at him like a wild animal until he tumbled out of the passenger door.

Chapter 3

The car door swung wide. Freezing wind and snow whipped into the cabin.

Tristan ignored the flakes settling on his expensive wool coat. He leaned back in, his large hands tugging my scarf tighter around my neck. The warmth in his voice was sickeningly familiar. "Don't catch a cold, Kensington. I'll go. Take some time to cool off before you decide." His fingertips grazed my tear-stained, numb cheek. "But honestly? I'm hoping you accept this new version of me. I still want that marriage license. We have too much history. I could never let you go."

A sharp ache twisted in my chest. I curled into a tight ball, refusing to look at him.

He let out a sharp sigh. The heavy car door clicked shut. He walked away into the blizzard.

I drove aimlessly. The snow blurred the windshield. The past replayed in my mind in brutal fragments.

Five-year-old Tristan flashing a snaggletooth grin, declaring I was the prettiest girl in the world. Eight-year-old Tristan thumping his chest, promising to turn the entire city into an amusement park just for me. Eighteen-year-old Tristan dropping to one knee under a shower of cherry blossoms with a promise ring. Twenty-two-year-old Tristan trashing his Ivy League acceptance letters to stay local for grad school with me, vowing wed never separate.

Twenty-five-year-old Tristan watching me completely break down. Telling me he refused to spend his life with only one woman.

A sharp pain tore through my chest. My lungs burned. Every inhale tasted like copper and bile.

I have no memory of driving back to my apartment. I sat paralyzed on the living room sofa until the sun came up. Tristan never walked through the door.

Dropping the mask had freed him.

From that day on, he fully embraced his toxic playboy era. He practically lived at high-end VIP clubs, constantly surrounded by Gia, Instagram models, and D-list actresses.

I lost my mind. I became obsessed. I hunted him down at those neon-lit clubs every single night. I screamed. I demanded answers. I tore up twenty years of upper-east-side etiquette just to claw at him.

He just turned his back, deliberately flashing the fresh, angry scratch marks trailing down his shoulder blades. He arched a brow, openly mocking me. "This is your punishment for acting so territorial, Kensington. If you can't handle my new lifestyle, we aren't going to survive a lifetime together!"

Violent shivers wracked my body. We were shattered. My desperate clinging was pathetic, a massive red flag. But I couldn't pry my fingers away.

Twenty years of history. Our lives were grafted together. Ripping us apart meant peeling my own skin off, bone by bone. I would bleed out.

Meanwhile, our parents flooded my group chats with beaming photos. My mom and his mom had closed on a multi-million-dollar marital estate for us in the Hamptons. They framed our childhood photos in every hallway. They even hired contractors for the nurseries. One painted soft blush, the other baby blue. This was the exact Pinterest board future Tristan and I had mapped out.

My mom sent a voice note. "Kensington, I am just so thrilled you get to marry your first love. We've all seen how Tristan worships the ground you walk on. I want a lifetime of happiness for you two."

The last thread of my sanity snapped.

I just needed to keep him.

I stripped off my heavy, conservative puffer coat. I shimmied into a skin-tight mini dress and sheer black tights. I tracked him down to his penthouse. I dropped to my knees, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. Complete submission. "Tristan. Please just touch me."

A dark, heavy flush crept into the corners of his eyes. His pupils dilated, swallowing the iris. The air between us thickened, suffocatingly hot. A low, jagged growl vibrated deep in his chest.

He lunged. His large hands gripped my jaw, his callouses scraping my skin. I heard the harsh swallow in his throat right before he crushed his mouth against mine.

Chapter 4

I surrendered to the toxic obsession. I bent over backwards, feeding his ego to keep him hooked. It worked. He dropped his rotation of girls and started parading me through the city's VIP lounges.

He took me in neon-lit club booths. In empty campus lecture halls. Against the cold steel tables in the science labs. Whenever that dark, heavy flush crept into his eyes, I yielded.

He pinned my wrists against the floor-to-ceiling glass of our Hamptons estate. The cold pane bit into my flushed skin. Down in the courtyard, Tucker and the rest of his frat brothers were just a glance away.

The heat of humiliation scorched my throat. I squeezed my burning eyes shut.

I was instantly pulled back to the first time he ever touched me. He had been trembling, his forehead slick with sweat, terrified of hurting me. His touches had been pure reverence.

Now, the man behind me gripped my waist tight enough to bruise. His breath hitched against my ear. He drove into me harder, determined to shatter every pure memory we had left. His reflection warped against the glass. A dark, wicked smirk twisted his lips as he rasped, "I love it when you take it like this, Kensington."

I nuked my pride. I became the ultimate tramp on campusthe pathetic girl who would do anything to keep her man. We actually went to the courthouse. We signed the papers and became legally bound. I thought my submission would lock him down permanently.

It took exactly two weeks.

Two weeks before Tristan locked eyes with Chloe near the campus gates. A struggling junior running a pop-up campus flower stand to scrape together tuition money. He didn't just throw daddy's money at her. He stood right there on the freezing pavement. He helped her and Darla sell those roses. He cut off every single sidepiece for her.

Chloe took one look at his reputation and scoffed. "You've slept with half the campus. You're filthy."

That single sentence broke him.

Tristan submerged himself in our indoor pool for twenty-four straight hours. He scrubbed his skin raw, desperate to wash the "filth" away. Tristan morphed right back into the devoted, obsessive boyfriend. Only, he wasn't doing it for me.

I became the punchline of the entire university. The whispers followed me through the corridors. Pity. Mockery. Schadenfreude.

My sanity snapped.

I stormed the campus quad, tracking them down at that pathetic flower cart. I screamed. I demanded answers.

Tristan didn't even flinch. He stepped in front of Chloe, shielding her from me. His eyes were glacial. "Chloe is different. She actually makes my heart race. Why do you always have to cling to me, Kensington? It's suffocating. Don't you have a life of your own?"

I lunged forward. I needed to claw the truth out of him.

A blur of motion whipped from behind the cart. Darla gripped the rusted metal handles and shoved the heavy wooden cart straight at me.

Smash.

The solid wood slammed into my ribs. The air expelled from my lungs. Gravity ripped me downward. My skull cracked against the brutal concrete. A blinding white flash exploded behind my eyes.

Then, the sickening warmth. Thick, hot liquid pooled down my forehead, soaking into my eyelashes. I couldn't even push myself up before Darla grabbed a massive bundle of unpruned roses and swung them down like a bat.

"You little slut!" she shrieked, her face twisted in absolute rage. "Trying to be the other woman? Trying to steal my daughter's boyfriend? I'll kill you!"

The heavy stems thrashed against my shoulders. The thorns ripped across my cheeks. They shredded through my thin silk blouse. Burning, stinging trails of fire ignited across my bare skin.

Tristan finally moved. He grabbed Darla's wrists, yanking her back. "Darla, stop! She's not the other woman!"

Darlas chest heaved. She glared daggers at him. "If she isn't the homewrecker, then what does that make my daughter?!"

Tristans jaw locked. His mouth opened, but the words evaporated. He stared blankly, utterly paralyzed by the accusation.

"Your daughter is exactly" I choked out the words, tasting copper on my tongue.

A loud, dramatic sob cut me off. Chloe threw her arms around her mother. Tears streamed down her flawless face. "Mom, please! Don't get worked up, your heart condition can't take this!" She turned her glistening, tear-filled eyes toward Tristan, giving him a look specifically designed to break a man's heart.

Tristan knelt onto the bloody concrete. He leaned in close. The familiar scent of sandalwood mixed with the metallic stench of my own blood. His breath brushed against my ear. A harsh, quiet whisper meant strictly for me. "Today, you take the hit. You're the other woman, Kensington. Deal with it."

Chapter 5