The Billionaire’s Second Vow

Chapter 1 — A Ghost from the Past

The traffic light ahead had barely turned green when Joanna Kingsley's brand-new Mercedes suddenly sputtered and died.

“Oh, you've got to be kidding me!”

She gripped the steering wheel, staring at the dashboard as if sheer hatred might somehow bring the engine back to life.

It was the second time in less than a month.

Furious, she snatched her phone from the passenger seat and called the dealership.

“Do you have any idea how ridiculous this is? I bought this car three weeks ago, and this is already the second breakdown! The vehicle is blocking traffic at the intersection of Madison Avenue. I'll leave the doors unlocked and the keys inside. Send someone to tow it immediately!”

She ended the call before the unfortunate employee could offer another meaningless apology.

A series of impatient honks sounded behind her.

Joanna glanced into the rearview mirror.

A black Rolls-Royce Phantom was sitting directly behind her.

Wonderful. Just what she needed.

She pushed a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear, grabbed her designer handbag, and stepped out of the car. After checking her reflection in the slightly tinted window, she retrieved her sunglasses and slipped them on.

Seven-inch heels clicked against the pavement as she approached the luxurious vehicle.

She knocked twice on the passenger-side window.

“Excuse me! My car has broken down. You'll have to take another lane.”

It was meant to be a simple courtesy.

Then the rear window began to descend.

Joanna turned instinctively.

And froze.

For one impossible moment, the entire world seemed to stop moving.

The man sitting in the back seat had a face she knew better than her own.

The same sharp jawline. The same dark eyes. The same perfectly sculpted features that had haunted her dreams for five long years.

Damian.

Her husband.

The man who had died saving her.

Her fingers went numb.

“No...”

She pulled off her sunglasses, staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

The resemblance was beyond anything she could have imagined. It wasn't merely similar. It was as though someone had reached into her memories and brought the dead back to life.

She stumbled closer, gripping the edge of the open window.

“Are you Damian Ashford?”

Her voice trembled.

“Tell me. Are you Damian?”

The man regarded her with an expression so cold it made her heart ache.

“My name is Lucian Ashford.”

His voice was deep, calm, and entirely unfamiliar in its indifference.

Joanna shook her head violently.

“No. That's impossible. You can't expect me to believe that.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I know your face. I know your voice. I couldn't possibly mistake you for someone else!”

Five years.

It had been five years since Damian had pushed her out of the path of an oncoming vehicle during a terrible accident. He had taken the full impact himself.

She had survived.

He hadn't.

She had attended his funeral, watched his coffin disappear beneath the earth, and spent years learning how to live with the emptiness he had left behind.

And now a stranger with his face was sitting in front of her.

“Miss, please move aside.”

The driver sounded increasingly impatient.

Joanna barely heard him.

“Damian, please. Just look at me. You remember me, don't you?”

The man glanced at the Rolex on his wrist. His expression darkened slightly before his gaze returned to hers.

“Miss, you've mistaken me for someone else.”

The words were delivered without hesitation.

Without recognition.

Without even a trace of curiosity.

Something inside Joanna cracked.

She had spent five years convincing herself that Damian was gone. She knew that dead men did not simply return, and that identical faces could exist in the world.

She needed to be rational.

“I'm sorry.”

She stepped away from the vehicle.

Lucian's eyes swept briefly over her face before the tinted window rose again.

“Drive.”

The Rolls-Royce pulled away, disappearing into the morning traffic.

Joanna stood motionless until its taillights vanished.

Only then did she lower her head and take a shaky breath.

Whatever that encounter had been, she couldn't afford to dwell on it.

She had a far more important battle waiting for her.

The Westbridge District development auction.

She checked her phone.

9:02 a.m.

“D*mn it!”

She hurried to the roadside, flagged down a cab, and gave the driver the auction venue's address.

Today was too important to lose.

Three years earlier, Sterling Global Group had emerged almost overnight. Within two years, the corporation had swallowed up dozens of smaller companies across Manhattan, establishing itself as one of the most aggressive players in the city's commercial property market.

Now its ambitions had expanded into large-scale urban development.

And today's auction concerned the most valuable undeveloped parcel in Westbridge District.

Naturally, Sterling would be there.

Joanna had spent months studying the property. Its location, projected returns, and future commercial potential made it an exceptional investment.

If she secured it, she would have a serious chance of becoming the next managing director of her company.

She wasn't going to let that opportunity slip away.

By the time her cab reached the venue, the auction room was already packed.

Joanna hurried inside, found her assigned seat, and settled down just as the proceedings began.

The auctioneer introduced the property before opening the bidding.

The offers came quickly.

Three million.

Four million.

Five million.

Within minutes, the price had climbed to seven million.

One by one, the bidders began withdrawing.

Joanna inhaled slowly.

This was her moment.

She straightened in her chair and raised her bidding paddle.

“Seven million!”

A wave of whispers swept through the room.

Several investors exchanged uncertain glances. The price was already substantial, and not everyone was convinced the property justified such an aggressive investment.

Joanna allowed herself a small smile.

Perfect.

If Sterling didn't show up, she might actually secure the land at a reasonable price.

But her relief lasted only seconds.

“Eight million.”

The voice came from the front row.

Joanna's smile vanished.

She looked up.

A tall man in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit lowered his bidding paddle.

Even from behind, she recognized him.

Lucian Ashford.

Her fingers tightened around her own paddle.

You have got to be kidding me.

Of all the people in Manhattan, why did it have to be him?

And why was he here?

A glance at the name displayed on the bidder's registration confirmed her suspicions.

Sterling Global Group.

Lucian Ashford was its president.

Joanna nearly laughed in disbelief.

Of course. The man who had just shattered her morning was also the person standing between her and the most important deal of her career.

“Eight and a half million!”

She raised her paddle again, though her heart was already protesting at the price.

“Nine million.”

Lucian didn't even turn around.

Joanna clenched her teeth.

“Nine and a half million!”

The room grew quieter.

“One million more,” Lucian replied calmly. “Ten million.”

Joanna stared at the back of his head.

Was he deliberately targeting her?

Her original budget had been ten million. She had already stretched beyond what her financial projections considered comfortable.

The auctioneer lifted his gavel.

“Ten million from Sterling Global. Going once...”

Joanna's hand tightened around the paddle.

She could still stop.

She could accept the loss and explain the situation to her board.

But the thought of watching Lucian walk away with the property was suddenly unbearable.

“Wait!”

Her paddle shot into the air.

“Ten million and fifty thousand!”

Several heads turned.

Joanna kept her chin raised, refusing to show the strain behind her smile.

Lucian finally spoke again.

“Eleven million.”

Just like that.

No hesitation. No calculation visible on his face. No sign that the additional million meant anything to him.

The auctioneer brought down the gavel.

“Eleven million! Sold to Sterling Global Group!”

Applause filled the room.

Joanna slowly lowered her paddle.

For a moment, she simply stared at the man in the front row.

Then she let out a quiet breath and folded her arms across her chest.

Fine.

If he had money to burn, she had no obligation to save him from himself.

At least he had paid an extra million for the privilege of winning.

The auction concluded shortly afterward. Investors began gathering their belongings and exchanging business cards as the crowd gradually dispersed.

Joanna slipped out without approaching anyone.

In the women's restroom, she washed her hands, pulled several paper towels from the dispenser, and dried them carefully.

She gathered her long, dark curls over one shoulder, adjusted her handbag, and checked her reflection in the mirror.

Her expression had returned to its usual composure.

She had lost the property.

She had lost her chance to secure an easy promotion.

And, somehow, she had encountered a man who looked exactly like the husband she had buried five years ago.

What a spectacularly terrible morning.

Still, there was one thing she didn't regret.

The extra fifty thousand dollars she had forced Lucian to spend.

For the first time since seeing his face, Joanna allowed herself a satisfied smile.

At least that had felt good.

Chapter 2 — Tell Me You're Him!

Joanna had barely stepped out of the restroom when her phone began ringing.

With her head lowered, she rummaged through her handbag while walking down the corridor. She finally found the device, but before she could answer, she collided headfirst with something solid.

Or rather, someone.

“Ow!”

Her phone slipped from her fingers, hit the marble floor, and skidded beneath a nearby console table.

The screen went black.

“Seriously? Do people around here not know how to watch where they're going?”

Already having endured the worst morning of her life, Joanna had very little patience left.

She crouched to retrieve her phone, pressing the power button repeatedly in the hope that it would come back to life.

Then she looked up.

And her breath caught.

Lucian Ashford stood directly in front of her.

His lips curved into an infuriatingly handsome smile.

“Excuse me, Miss. You're the