One Final Vow for the Heartless Man Who Thinks I Love Him

The night we finalized the date for our wedding, Kai Holden looked at me with an unnerving calm. “Anya,” he said, his voice flat. “I don’t think I love you anymore.” My hand, poised over a stack of creamy white invitations, froze. I let out a sharp, dismissive laugh. “Seriously? Another truth-or-dare game with the guys?” He didn’t smile. Instead, he pulled up his phone and scrolled through a gallery of damning evidence: explicit texts with other women, intimate photos, dinner receipts from dates he swore were “late studio sessions.” The eyes that used to blaze with fierce, possessive heat now held a cold detachment, mixed with a sliver of pity. “You and I are different, Anya. I can’t keep lying to you.” He paused, letting the words sink in like stones. “If you still want to marry me, I will. I’ll go through with it. But I won’t be faithful.” My pen dragged a long, scarlet streak across the delicate paper. My breath caught in my throat. After a long, stretching silence, I heard my own voice—strangely steady—reply. “We’ll get married. Of course, we will.” Only after the wedding. Only after I completed the mission could I return to my original world.

1. A flash of genuine bewilderment crossed Kai’s eyes when he heard my answer. He leaned closer, his fingers gripping my chin, his tone mocking and soft. “Anya, I know you’re the quiet type, but I never expected this. Finding out everything I’ve done and you don’t scream? You don’t even throw a lamp?” “Are you even capable of a temper?” His voice sounded distant, as if speaking through a tunnel. Then, he began to peel away the layers, revealing uglier truths. “My proposal? That whole fireworks-and-drone spectacular? That was her idea. She was standing in the crowd of well-wishers, watching us.” “When you were in the hospital with pneumonia and I told you I was on a business trip overseas? I was on a private jet to the Caribbean with her.” “And the time you called, crying because you missed me so much? Honestly, I just felt annoyed.” My mind blanked, then a chaotic flood of images washed over me. First, the proposal. A thousand fireworks exploded across the night sky. Drones formed a massive, shimmering portrait of us, instantly trending on every social media platform. I was drunk on the spectacle, blinded by the perceived happiness, and I hadn’t noticed that flicker of fond affection in his eyes as he looked past me, toward the crowd. Then, the pneumonia. I had pushed myself to the brink planning the latest tour for his band, Free. Days without sleep. The relentless ache of a fever. In a moment of weakness, my head pounding, I grabbed my phone and dialed his number. My voice was a rough rasp—a strangled sound. “Kai, I miss you…” I could vaguely hear a rowdy noise on his end, like a packed club or a house party. His voice was laced with a tone of soothing persuasion. “I’m stuck on a deal in Europe, baby. I’ll send a private nurse. Just ditch the work for a bit, okay? Don’t sacrifice yourself for this band.” Worried about interrupting his work, I hung up quickly. Later, when the doctor told me I needed a family member present because my condition was serious, I never called him again. I grew up with a heightened sensitivity due to my messed-up family life. I’d felt the shift in us for a while, a creeping suspicion, but I’d been too afraid to dig. I never imagined he’d just…confess. Kai studied my face. There was a faint guilt, but mostly, a great, relieved exhale. “Anya, I hope you can understand this. I don’t want to be tethered to one person for the rest of my life. Life is meant to be a spectrum of experiences.” “I’ll give you one last chance. If you walk away, I’ll give you the majority of my assets. If you stay, you have to learn to be a quiet, agreeable Mrs. Holden.” I wanted to ask why, but the question choked in my throat. He’d already done the damage; what difference would the reason make now? I gave a numb nod. He ruffled my hair, the casual, condescending gesture of rewarding a compliant pet. “That settles it, then. No backsliding, no sudden breakdowns, no drama.” The shrill ring of his phone shattered the tension. Kai picked up, a smile widening across his face as he agreed to something. He grabbed his leather jacket and headed for the door. “My girl says she misses me. Gotta go.” He paused in the doorframe, an afterthought. “I’ll be gone for about three days. The wedding invites are all yours.” He strode out as if the girl on the other end of the line was the one he was walking toward the altar with. The click of the door latch sent a sharp, painful gasp through me. The tears, delayed and useless, finally began to fall. When the storm passed, I spoke to the System in my mind, a voice I hadn’t accessed for months. [Does simply marrying Kai complete the mission?] [Affirmative. Mission complete. Upon the body’s death, you will be immediately returned to your original world.] I stared blankly at the sweet, smiling photo of us on my phone screen. How could a person change so completely? I lay awake all night. By morning, the news had hit the internet: Kai Holden, lead singer of Free, spotted watching the sunrise with his mistress on a mountain retreat.

2. Not long ago, the headline had been: “Kai Holden’s Extravagant Proposal to Childhood Sweetheart.” Everyone had called him a man of integrity. Now, he was being photographed on a romantic getaway with a mistress. In one night, his social media was flooded with hate. Two-Timing Rat. Ditching the One Who Stuck By Him. Not a Real Man. The girl, who turned out to be a minor social media influencer, was relentlessly trolled until she locked all her accounts. My phone was buzzing with 99+ missed calls from Kai. I was confused; Kai was never the type to panic over a little bad press. Another call came in. I answered. Kai’s voice, languid and laced with a new kind of authority, came through. “Anya, baby. Can you post something on social media? Just clarify that Sasha is your cousin, and you were there watching the sunrise, too.” My throat felt tight and dry. Every word was a struggle. “Why?” He sighed, his tone laced with protective concern. “She’s never dealt with online hate before. She’s completely terrified and crying her eyes out.” “It’s just a sentence, sweetheart. It won’t take long, will it?” A muffled sob echoed on his end. Kai’s voice immediately softened, syrupy with affection. “Stop crying, little one. I’m figuring this out. Everything will be fine. Trust me.” My fingertips were ice cold. A bitter, sour feeling spread from my chest through my entire body. Kai was used to public backlash. When Free first started, critics trashed his voice, saying he sounded like a dying cat. Haters wanted to drown him in their negativity. I remember one gig where some jerk threw a rotten egg at him, and Kai just laughed it off. I rushed back to the backstage area, but someone threw a plastic water bottle that hit me in the head. Kai’s face changed in an instant. He vaulted over the stage, landing a punch that broke the guy’s front tooth. For the next two weeks, he was relentlessly mocked by haters and the clueless public. He would read the cruelest comments out loud, always grinning, never bothered. But when he saw my red-rimmed eyes, he gently pulled my head onto his shoulder. “Don’t cry. I genuinely don’t care what they say about me.” “They can call me names, throw things at me, but nobody hurts my Anya. Nobody.” Now, I was the shield for a new girl. “What if I say no?” A brief silence. Then, a quiet, dangerous chuckle. “You know I have a hundred ways to make you agree, Anya. But I don’t want to hurt you. Don’t push me.” I just wanted to test his limits. Now I knew them. My expression blank, I typed out the clarification and posted it to my profile. Some believed it, others were suspicious. But with the aggressive devotion of Kai’s fan base and his PR team’s swift action, the scandal quickly faded. While I frantically planned our wedding, Kai was out yachting and hiking with the new girl. One afternoon, I received an anonymous text—a video. It was explicit, rated R, with vivid sound. Kai was lost in a wild, unrestrained passion, a side of him I had never seen. With me, he was always gentle, restrained, claiming he was afraid of hurting me. Was it fear of injury, or just a lack of real desire? The irony was crushing. The anonymous number followed up with a text: [Old woman, get the hint? Kai loves me. I heard you’re so obsessed you’re still trying to marry him even though he cheated. Don’t be such a pathetic, desperate cliché. Just let him go.] I was in a bridal boutique, trying on my wedding dress, when I saw the video and the message. The assistant noticed my furrowed brow. “Ma’am, is something wrong? Do you dislike the style? We have hundreds of others to choose from.” I shook my head, managing a strained smile. “No, this one is perfect.” It was the most expensive one, after all. I changed out of the gown. I screenshotted the video and the text and sent them directly to Kai. [Control your girl. This video will ruin your career if it leaks.] [Oh, and I’ve selected the dress. Charged to your card.] Kai replied immediately. [Got it. I’ll handle it.]

3. Kai’s way of ‘handling it’ was to ruthlessly cut the girl loose. The woman he’d been treating like a fragile treasure days earlier was now left sobbing outside his villa in the pouring rain, trying every tearful, desperate tactic she could think of. He didn’t give her a second glance. He caught my confused look. “I can spoil her, but that doesn’t mean she gets to insult you,” he explained, a twisted sense of loyalty in his smile. “You are going to be Mrs. Holden. No one gets to disrespect you.” “You’re my girl, Anya. Nobody messes with you.” A flicker of memory—a younger, fiercely protective voice—burned in my mind. In the ninth grade, my mother remarried. My stepfather’s son, a year younger than me, was a little monster. Sister this, sister that to my face, but behind my back, he shredded my textbooks, locked me in a dark utility closet, and encouraged his friends to bully me. When I cried to my mother, she refused to meet my eyes, telling me I needed to be patient and endure. My stepfather was wealthy, and this was her hard-won life; she wasn’t going to let me jeopardize it. The next time my stepbrother cornered me after school, demanding I go hang out with his older friends, Kai sprinted past us. He was wearing a faded denim jacket, and a faint scent of cheap laundry detergent drifted on the wind he created when he slammed his fist into my stepbrother’s face. He was the school’s notorious delinquent, feared by everyone. My stepbrother screamed and ran. That was our first real interaction. Brief, but unforgettable. Later that winter, I found Kai in a park, sitting on a swing set, covered in fresh bruises, gnawing on a dry piece of bread. He grinned when he saw me. “Hey, Short Stack. Buy me dinner?” His life was no better than mine: an absent mother, an abusive, alcoholic father. Sitting in the warmth of a little diner, he slurped his noodles quickly. “I could have beaten that guy worse, but I was worried I’d break the old man’s jaw,” he said, referring to his dad. After the meal, he looked at me, his eyes bright with conviction. “Thanks for the food. From now on, you’re under my protection. I swear, no one will ever mess with you again.” The boy’s breath was light, but his promise felt heavy, binding. After that, no one dared to touch me. But how could that young Kai know that, in the future, the person who would hurt me the most would be himself? For a brief, naive moment, I thought his claim of not loving me was a lie, a test. But then he turned his attention back to his phone, happily chatting up some new girl on an anonymous forum. I laughed a dry, bitter laugh at myself. Within two weeks, he had a replacement. This time, a shy, fresh-faced college student. She lowered her eyes and quietly greeted me, as if I were some kind of dangerous predator. Kai smiled, stroking her hair. “Don’t worry, Anya’s a good person.” The words were a deep, stinging sarcasm to my ears. During that time, I started receiving strange packages. Dead animals, blood-soaked wigs, voodoo dolls pierced with needles… When I finally traced the source, it was the sweet, innocent-looking college student. I hadn’t even had time to react, but Kai had already sent someone to douse the girl in a bucket of red paint as she left class. Then, they sent a week of graphic, horrifying texts to her phone, terrifying her so badly she wouldn’t even leave her dorm room. For the next two months, the women came and went. The longest lasted half a month, the shortest, three hours. No matter who they were, how beautiful they were, or how much he seemed to like them, if they showed the slightest disrespect to me, he cut them off without hesitation. Everyone who knew him was confused. “You’re obsessed with Anya, man. You must be madly in love.” Kai only smirked. He didn’t deny his love; he just didn’t want to limit his entire life to just me. And my heart, with each betrayal, had grown dull, stiff, and utterly numb. Nothing could stir it anymore. A month before the wedding, a new woman appeared. Kai’s friends started a betting pool on how long this one would last. “I bet three days.” “I’ll say a week.” “I’m putting a grand on a month! The wedding is in a month; there’s no way she makes it past the ceremony.” The new girl, Sasha Bell, was a recent college graduate and a phenomenal drummer. Free’s drummer had been in a minor car accident the week before, and she was brought in to save the show. Tiny in stature but with explosive energy, she was mesmerizing on stage. The moment the show ended, Kai got her number. Three days later, he had her. He brought her to a friend’s party. She wasn’t shy, quickly integrating with the group. A few drinks in, one of the guys, Josh, suddenly asked, “Kai, where’s Anya? You should call her, let her come hang out.” Kai smiled. “Sure, I’ll call her.” The whole room froze.

4. Everyone knew I hated the smell of smoke and alcohol and had zero interest in their lavish party scene. The previous women had tried to provoke me by urging Kai to call me, but he had always refused. This time, he was agreeable. Kai called me just as I was sealing the final invitation. When he told me why he was calling, I instantly refused. Usually, he’d just hang up. But this time, his voice dropped slightly, a dangerous, low tone. “Anya. Get over here.” He used my full name when he was angry. I was baffled. He knew exactly why I hated the smell of smoke and alcohol. But before I could protest, he hung up. I was confused, but I didn’t want a pre-wedding argument to derail my ticket home. I arrived and pushed the door open, immediately hit by a thick, cloying cloud of cigarette smoke. I winced. Kai waved me over. Sasha was sitting right next to him. She saw me and offered a smug, challenging smile. She walked over, holding a glass of amber liquid. “I want to toast you, Mrs.-to-Be!” She drained her glass, then offered the challenge to me. “I don’t drink.” Kai took a glass and pushed it into my hand. “It’s just one drink. The girl next to me just downed hers.” The smell of alcohol was overpowering. I had to suppress a gag reflex, pushing the glass away. Sasha chuckled. “I must not have been convincing enough. My bad. I’ll drink three more!” She chugged three in quick succession. When she reached for a fourth, Kai snatched the glass away. His eyes, full of genuine fury, locked onto mine. “It’s one drink, Anya. Are you going to die if you drink one glass?” The heart that had become so numb finally gave a vicious, painful twitch. In high school, after Kai started protecting me, I was safe for a while. That changed after my stepfather complimented me for getting top marks. My stepbrother, in revenge, spiked my water with a handful of sleeping pills. I woke up in a smoke-filled, high-end private club. Strangers surrounded me, smoking, drinking, then grabbing my jaw and pouring high-proof liquor down my throat. Just as things were about to escalate, Kai, who had installed a discreet tracking device in my watch, smashed his way in. He was like a maniac, breaking everything, holding a jagged shard of glass, his eyes bloodshot. The men scattered. I collapsed into his arms, vomiting until my stomach was empty. After that, alcohol and smoke became my forbidden zone. Kai never drank or smoked around me. And yet, for Sasha, he was breaking that promise. I smiled, a cold, mocking curve of my lips. I snatched the glass from his hand and downed it in one go. My stomach heaved. The next second, I was vomiting violently onto the floor. Kai was stunned. The memory of my past trauma seemed to hit him all at once. He rushed forward. “Anya!” I pushed his hand away, a sneer on my face. “Happy now?” In the dim light, his eyes were complex, unreadable. I shoved past him and ran out of the room. I couldn’t stand that disgusting place for another second. Over the next month, Kai’s devotion to Sasha exceeded all expectations. He took her everywhere, showing her off. He brought her home, into our bedroom, leaving her to flaunt her presence. She openly challenged me. He always defended her, saying she was young and I should ignore it. Everyone was starting to whisper that Kai had finally been caught. They looked at me with pity. My heart remained dead to it all. I just wanted the ceremony to be over. The System said the mission would be completed the moment we exchanged rings. I only needed to find a way to kill this body afterward. The wedding day arrived. The ceremony proceeded smoothly. I walked out of the shadows and into the bright lights, getting closer and closer to Kai. I had fantasized about this moment a million times—walking toward him, anticipating a life together. Now, I just wanted to get it done. When he took my hand, Kai’s eyes flickered with a strange emotion. “Anya, I promise you will be Mrs. Holden forever.” He took the ring, about to slide it onto my finger. Suddenly, a distinct phone chime—the special tone he reserved for certain calls—rang out. He interrupted the ceremony without hesitation, answered, and his face instantly twisted in shock. “Sasha was in an accident!” He spun to leave. I grabbed his arm, holding tight. “Kai, you haven’t put the ring on me yet.” “Anya, now is not the time for this!” Ignoring the gasps of the guests, he violently wrenched his arm from my grip. My heel twisted, and I tumbled off the stage. The crowd gasped. Kai rushed back, a flash of pure panic in his eyes. “Anya! Are you hurt?” I ignored the sharp, searing pain in my ankle, my voice a broken whisper. “Put the ring on. Do it now, and I won’t stop you.” He thought I was desperate to marry him. He grabbed my hand and slid the ring onto my finger. Done. He turned and rushed for the door. Suddenly, the crowd erupted in a horrified clamor. He stopped, confused. He turned back, and his pupils constricted in terror at the sight before him.