SCARLET VOWS AND SILVER LIES

Genre: Mafia · Billionaire · College Life · Enemies to Lovers

Vibe: Dark Romance · Dramatic

Plot Twists: Secret Identity · Arranged Marriage · Hate Turned Passion

CHAPTER ONE: THE DEVORIA CURSE

"In this family, love is a luxury—and vengeance is law."

There were three rules Khalistta Denise Devoria was raised to obey:

Never trust a Goldenthorn.

Hide your identity outside the estate.

If they dare hurt you, destroy them with a smile.

The Devoria mansion stood like a fortress dipped in gold and blood, guarded by secrets that could bury empires. Inside, power was not inherited—it was forged in silence, sharpened by betrayal, and carried by the Devoria siblings like a second skin.

Khalistta was the youngest. The only daughter. The most protected.

But also, the most cursed.

She wasn’t Khalistta at Belcourt University.

There, she was Khalie Noir, a quiet girl with mahogany-red dyed hair, baggy clothes, and thick glasses. The kind no one looked at twice. That anonymity kept her safe—from enemies, suitors, and especially him.

Thadeous Goldenthorn.

The enemy. The arrogant billionaire heir. The walking storm with silver eyes, sculpted cruelty, and a name that made her brothers clench their jaws. He was everything the Devorias hated—especially after what the Goldenthorns did to their mother.

But at school?

He was Belcourt’s golden prince. Cold. Untouchable. Desired.

And unfortunately, the same man assigned to partner with her in the Advanced Strategic Politics course. Fate had a twisted sense of humor.

"You're late," Thadeous said, not looking up from his tablet. His voice was smooth like poisoned whiskey.

Khalie (Khalistta) slid into the seat beside him, pretending her hand wasn’t trembling beneath the desk. "You’re early. Try not to choke on your arrogance."

He raised a brow. Then slowly looked at her for the first time.

His smirk faltered.

His stare lingered too long.

His jaw clenched.

He doesn’t recognize me…

Good.

"Have we met before?" he asked, voice dipped in suspicion.

“No,” she replied without missing a beat, adjusting her glasses. “I tend to avoid egos the size of private jets.”

He stared at her, but she didn’t blink.

Devorias don’t flinch.

Back at the estate, her brothers were already circling around an incoming problem.

Marcus Devoria—cold-eyed, war-hardened, and the eldest—tossed the newspaper across the table. The headline read: “GOLDENTHORNS TO MERGE WITH YET EMPIRE IN SECRET ARRANGED DEAL?”

“I don’t care who they marry,” Mark Leo said lazily, twirling a pen between his fingers. “As long as they stay the hell away from our sister.”

Markis leaned forward, his tone sharp. “They won’t. Not if Don Emilio still has unfinished business with our father.”

Their silence was cut off by a soft laugh—Khalistta’s.

“Relax, boys,” she said, entering the room like a queen in sweatpants. “I’m invisible. Thadeous wouldn’t notice me if I danced on the table in heels.”

Marcus narrowed his eyes. “Still. I want Leo and Markis watching that boy.”

“You’re not my bodyguards.”

“No,” Mark Leo said gently. “But you’re our only sister. We’d kill the world for you. Remember that.”

But Khalistta’s lies began to unravel that very night.

A red invitation arrived. Embossed with gold foil. Sent directly to the Devoria estate.

"By decree of Don Emilio Goldenthorn and Lord Yet,

You are hereby invited to the official announcement of the arranged union between:

Thadeous G. Goldenthorn

and

Khalistta Denise Devoria

on the eve of October 17th, Belcourt Mansion.”

Everyone froze.

Ashley Noire dropped her soda can.

Ryan Aguilar cursed under his breath.

And Khalistta?

She laughed—cold and sharp like shattering crystal.

“Over my dead body.”

But outside, beneath the moonlight and her false identity, Thadeous Goldenthorn watched her from the shadows.

He whispered to himself, eyes narrowed.

“That girl isn’t who she says she is… and I’ll tear off every mask she wears.”

CHAPTER TWO: THE ARRANGEMENT

"The cruelest thing about fate isn't the pain—it’s the timing."

Khalistta Devoria did not cry.

Not when her mother was buried in an unmarked grave.

Not when the Goldenthorns turned on her family.

And not when her name appeared beside Thadeous Goldenthorn’s on a bloodstained invitation.

But that night—locked inside her rosewood room—she stared at the letter again, jaw clenched and fists trembling.

“An arranged marriage?” she spat.

Ashley Noire, her best friend since childhood, was pacing near her bed. “What the hell is your father thinking?! You hate him!”

“I don’t just hate him,” Khalistta snapped. “I want him destroyed.”

Ryan Aguilar leaned against the bookshelf, arms crossed. “If you want out of this, we’ll figure something. You know I got you, Khali.”

She turned to face them both, eyes like obsidian. “This isn’t just about me anymore. If my brothers find out who arranged this... there will be blood.”

Meanwhile — Goldenthorn Estate

Thadeous was not smiling.

Don Emilio stood at the grand dining table, sipping vintage wine like the devil he was. “The merger is simple. You marry the Devoria girl, we gain leverage, and the Yets get their alliance. It’s poetic.”

“I’m not marrying that viper,” Thadeous muttered coldly.

“She’s the only daughter of Marcus Devoria.”

“And I’m the son of the man who killed their mother. That won’t go down well over dinner.”

Don Emilio’s smile was vicious. “Then charm her. Break her. Or bend her.”

Thadeous’s fists clenched, veins twitching.

He didn’t fear the Devorias. He feared becoming his father.

Two Days Later — University Grounds

The announcement exploded like a bomb.

News of the arranged marriage spread through campus in whispers and headlines. And when Khalie—Khalistta in disguise—walked through the main hallway, she felt the stares.

She had to act fast.

Thadeous stood near the fountain with Queenie Yet beside him. Queenie—flawless, arrogant, and back from Paris with venom on her tongue—was draped on his arm like a silk chain.

“So it’s true,” Queenie said loudly when she spotted Khalie. “You’re the girl trying to marry my Thadeous?”

Khalistta’s jaw tightened.

“I didn’t ask for this arrangement,” she said calmly. “And he’s not yours.”

“Oh please,” Queenie scoffed. “You think he would ever choose you over me?”

That did it.

Khalistta walked up slowly, removed her glasses, and for the first time—let her full face show.

Thadeous froze.

So did Queenie.

“You…” he whispered.

“I knew I recognized those eyes.”

Queenie’s face drained of color.

“You’re… Khalistta Devoria?” she choked.

Khalistta smirked. “Surprise.”

Later That Night — Devoria Mansion

The brothers were livid.

Marcus slammed his fist on the table. “He knew this would provoke us. Don Emilio’s playing dirty.”

Mark Leo muttered, “I should have gutted him when I had the chance.”

Markis, the cruelest of them all, lit a cigar and said flatly, “If this marriage proceeds, it’s only to destroy them from within.”

Khalistta stood calmly in the center of the storm.

“I’ll marry him,” she said.

They all turned to her.

“What did you just say?” Marcus growled.

“I’ll marry him,” she repeated, her voice deadly. “But on one condition.”

Mark Leo narrowed his eyes. “Name it.”

“I do this my way. No backup. No interference. I’ll bring the Goldenthorns to their knees... as their bride.”

CHAPTER THREE: THE ENGAGEMENT FROM HELL

“It’s not the love they fear—it’s the woman who holds the power to destroy them with it.”

The chandeliers sparkled like shattered glass, and the air in the Belcourt Grand Ballroom dripped with secrets, silk, and tension. Every powerful family in the city had arrived in black-tie and blood-thick curiosity. Whispers floated beneath the golden archways—soft, poisonous things wrapped in forced applause.

All of them came for one reason.

To witness the union of two enemies.

Khalistta Denise Devoria and Thadeous Goldenthorn.

It wasn’t love.

It wasn’t desire.

It was strategy—wrapped in an engagement ring and coated with lies.

Khalistta stood before the tall mirror in the preparation lounge. Her scarlet gown clung to her curves like temptation itself, the deep slit revealing a dagger strapped to her thigh—not for decoration. Her black curls were pinned to perfection, a few cascading down her bare shoulder like sin. Her lips were painted crimson, her eyes rimmed in charcoal.

“You look like vengeance dressed as royalty,” Ashley Noire breathed, standing behind her in a blush-colored gown.

“That’s the goal,” Khalistta murmured. “If I can’t destroy them in war, I’ll ruin them at their own table.”

Ashley hesitated. “Are you sure you want to go through with this? With… him?”

Khalistta stared at her reflection a moment longer, then whispered, “I don’t want him. I want what marrying him will cost his family.”

Ashley touched her arm gently. “Then burn them. But don’t burn yourself with them, Khali.”

The ballroom fell into hush when the grand doors opened.

All heads turned as Khalistta descended the curved staircase. Every step echoed, her heels striking marble like warning shots. The moment her face was visible—no more glasses, no more fake identity—gasps filled the room.

She was no longer hiding.

Thadeous stood at the foot of the staircase, wine glass in hand, tuxedo immaculate, his silver eyes locked only on her.

She looked like a threat.

A beautiful, dangerous threat wrapped in red silk and fury.

His jaw twitched as he watched her walk.

He hated the way her presence made the air heavier.

He hated that the girl he once mocked was now the woman haunting his control.

But above all, he hated how much he wanted her.

“You clean up well,” he murmured when she reached him.

She gave him a cold, sharp smile. “You don’t.”

Thadeous smirked. “Touché.”

They stood under the golden arch as a hush fell over the crowd. The emcee’s voice echoed:

“Tonight, we gather not just for union, but for legacy.

To witness the official engagement of Thadeous Goldenthorn and Khalistta Devoria.”

The crowd clapped—fake, strained, forced.

The ring was presented.

Thadeous took her hand, eyes never leaving hers.

He slipped the ring on.

A fire lit in her chest.

Not love.

Not nerves.

War.

They posed for photos. The crowd swarmed. Every socialite and politician approached them with fake smiles and congratulatory poison.

“I didn’t think you’d show,” Thadeous said between smiles, leaning close.

“You didn’t think I had the spine?” she replied.

“I didn’t think you had the guts to face your enemies in a ballroom full of wolves.”

She leaned even closer. “I am a wolf.”

Their fake smiles met the flash of cameras.

Queenie Althea Reyna Yet had watched enough.

She stood slowly, glass of champagne in hand, her silver gown catching the light like ice.

The room quieted as she raised her glass, fake smile plastered on her plastic-perfect face.

“To the lovely couple,” she said sweetly, voice dripping venom. “May your lies be as pretty as your faces.”

A few laughs. A few nervous coughs.

But Queenie wasn’t done.

“Oh, and Khalistta…” she turned to her, stepping forward with deliberate grace. “Just a friendly reminder: no matter what your ring says, we both know who had him first. Who he’ll always come back to.”

Khalistta’s smile didn’t budge.

Instead, she stepped forward, slow and calm. Then, without warning—

SLAP.

The sound echoed. Cameras stopped clicking.

The ballroom froze.

“Thank you for reminding me, Queenie,” Khalistta said smoothly. “I forgot trash talks.”

Gasps.

Queenie stood stunned, a red mark forming on her cheek.

Khalistta leaned in, her voice icy. “He may have been yours once—but remember: men don’t leave fire for ash.”

The crowd erupted in whispered shock.

Thadeous watched her, stunned. Amused. Impressed.

And, infuriatingly, interested.

Backstage, minutes later.

“You enjoyed that,” Thadeous said, cornering her near the corridor wall.

“Which part?” Khalistta replied coolly, pulling a hairpin from her curls. “Humiliating your ex or showing the press I’m not a doll?”

He stepped closer. “You’re dangerous.”

“I’m not your type, remember?”

“Not even close,” he said.

They were too close. Too silent.

Her breath hitched. His eyes dropped to her lips.

Then—

“KHALIE!”

Ryan Aguilar stormed in, urgency in his voice.

Khalistta turned. “Ryan?”

His face was pale, jaw clenched. “There’s been a break-in. The Devoria estate. Your brothers are handling it, but it’s targeted. Someone’s trying to send a message.”

Her blood turned to ice.

She didn’t wait.

She threw off her heels and gown train and stormed out, Thadeous following without a word.

Behind them, Queenie watched it all from the shadows, her smile curling into something dark.

“This isn’t over,” she whispered to herself.

“Not by a long shot.”