The Broken Vows: Zane and Celeste’s Story (The Windsors)

I look up in surprise when a man wearing the ugliest yellow suit walks into my office, holding a potted plant and what appears to be a shoebox. “Ms. Harrison,” he says, smiling. “I’ve got a delivery for you.”

My eyes run down his suit, and I frown. It’s yellow with tiny pink stars all over it, and my first thought is why? Who designed this, and who in their right mind would actually wear it? I clear my throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

He grins as he carefully places both the plant pot and the shoe box on the edge of my desk before reaching into his inner suit jacket. My eyes widen when I realize the lining is bright pink. It’s… a lot.

“My name is Mike Mitchells,” he says as he hands me his business card. I tense, recognizing the name. “I’m Zane Windsor’s secretary.”

I raise a brow and cross my arms. “And how, pray tell, did you get into the building?” I’m pretty sure that anyone even remotely affiliated with Windsor Hotels is banned from coming anywhere near our offices.

“I’m extremely good at my job, Ms. Harrison. My boss told me to deliver this to you, so that’s what I did.”

“Not an answer, Mike.”

He smiles at me adorably, but that doesn’t hide the cunning look in his eyes. From what I know, he’s been working for Zane for years now. There’s no way he could’ve lasted that long if he isn’t incredibly smart. “I was also told to hand you this card personally.”

I take the sealed envelope from him, my heart skipping a beat when I notice Zane’s handwriting on the front. Celestial, it’s addressed to.

Dear Celeste,

I hope you enjoy the Lily of the Valley that I planted for you. It’s from the observatory I took you to last week, and they were always meant for you. Just like we do, Lily of the Valley has a long history.

In the Victorian era, they represented a return to happiness, but in ancient times, they represented the goddess Ostara. The perfect plant for my own goddess, don’t you think?

More recently, this beautiful plant has been associated with apologies and a fresh start if that apology is well received. That’s what this is — a reminder that my apology was sincere, and that I want nothing more than a fresh start with you.

PS. Since they’re so fragrant, it is my hope that you’ll think of me each time you smell them, because I certainly haven’t stopped thinking about the way it felt to kiss you again.

– ZW

I can’t keep the smile off my face, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Mike. His expression is carefully blank, but he fails to hide that calculating look in his eyes. I clear my throat and nod at him politely. “Please express my gratitude to your boss,” I tell him, my voice sounding a little more flustered than I’d have liked.

He smiles at me before stepping away, only to pause at the door and throw me a knowing look. “I’ll see you around, Ms. Harrison.”

I narrow my eyes as he walks out, mildly annoyed by his audacity and insinuation. I bet Zane’s attitude rubbed off on him.

I sigh happily as I reach for the shoebox, only for my lips to part in shock when I see what’s inside — the most beautiful black satin pumps adorned with small white gemstones in shapes reminiscent of the galaxy, and the word Celestial on the inner soles. I take a closer look and freeze when I realize that some of the stones aren’t crystals at all… they’re diamonds.

I carefully examine them, but can’t find a brand anywhere. There’s nothing but the small outline of a raven on the bottom. He clearly had these custom made for me, and I can’t help but wonder about his intentions.

He seemed serious when he apologized, and I can’t deny that he seemed nothing like the mean boy he’d been, but part of me is still scared to trust him. My experience with him makes me fear that this truly is an elaborate ruse, one that might not even be aimed at me personally, but rather at Harrison Developments.

I raise the tips of my fingers to my lips, my eyes fluttering closed as I think of the way he kissed me. He couldn’t have faked that look in his eyes, could he? Could this be real?

This thing between us… I don’t know what it is, but I can tell you it certainly isn’t hatred. Don’t you want to find out what it is, what we could be? Has the thought truly never crossed your mind?

I haven’t wanted to admit it, but underneath all my hatred for him, there’s always been something more. At first, it was a need for acceptance and wanting him to admit that I’m just as good as he is, if not better. As the years passed, it turned into something more, something a little darker, a little more illicit.

When was the first time I imagined Zane ending one of our countless arguments with a kiss? I must’ve been sixteen, and the thought had horrified me, but it wouldn’t leave me either.

By the time he laid me down in his beautiful observatory, I’d already wanted him far longer than he could’ve possibly suspected. It wasn’t rational, my need for him. It felt like my body and mind were at odds with each other each time I found myself daydreaming about him, but I couldn’t stop either.

I’d be lying if I said being with him never crossed my mind. For years, I wondered what it’d be like if he didn’t hate me, didn’t provoke me. More than once, I wondered what it’d be like to have his undivided attention in an entirely different way — not as his rival, but as a girl he wanted.

My hand trembles as I reach for my phone, unsure of what to do. It’d be impolite not to thank him, right? I bite down on my lip, hesitating. If this is all a ploy, I’m not sure I’ll recover.

The phone only rings once before he picks up. “Celestial,” he says, his voice deep and pleased, like he’d been expecting my call.

I hesitate a beat and tighten my grip on the phone. “Thank you,” I murmur. “For the beautiful lilies and the shoes. It’s… Zane, it’s too much.”

He chuckles, and the sound cascades over me, driving the butterflies in my stomach wild. “It’s nothing, Celeste. I told you I’d buy you new shoes, didn’t I? I’m going to keep every promise I make you, every vow, until you realize you truly can trust me.”

I lean back in my seat, feeling conflicted. “Where did you get the shoes?” I ask, in an attempt to turn to a lighter topic. “They’re beautiful.”

I hear some shuffling on the other end of the phone, like he’s putting some work aside to speak to me. “One of my friends designed them for you. She’s an up-and-coming designer, and I just knew she’d be able to capture what I had in mind. I’m glad you like them. They’re worth a fortune based on the materials, but someday, when she makes it as big as I think she will, they’ll be a collector’s item for sure.”

He sounds so proud of this woman, and it does something unexpected to me — it fills me with hot, searing jealousy. “So you saw an opportunity to support her without being blatant about it and took it. That’s so nice of you,” I say, my tone sharper than intended.

Zane falls quiet for a moment, and then he laughs, the sound light and melodious. “You’re jealous,” he says, his tone filled with wonder. “Of a woman that genuinely is like a sister to me.”

I part my lips in outrage. “I most certainly am not,” I snap, instantly agitated. I shouldn’t have called him, and really, I should just hang up, but instead, I find myself holding my phone a little tighter.

“Let me take you on a date next Sunday. That fresh start I mentioned? I’ve waited for it longer than you can imagine. Don’t make me wait even longer, Celestial. Please.”

I blink in surprise, my heart racing. “I can’t on Sunday,” I murmur, my tone filled with regret. “Truly. I promised my mom I’d spend the day with her. The week after, though… I’m free then.”

What am I doing? I should take his apology and consider it closure, but once again, I’m letting Zane pull me into something that can only be described as trouble.

“It’s a date,” he says, and I try my hardest to suppress a smile. I might very well have lost my mind.