Page 17 of Crushed Vow (Broken Vows #2)

I ducked, dragging Ethan with me, my arms tightening around his waist as he coughed into his shoulder, blood staining his sleeve darker.

My eyes burned. And yet—we kept moving.

Step by blistered step.

A full-blown war. All because one man, one broken, dangerous, beautiful man, refused to let me go.

Cassian.

My knees buckled. The building groaned like it was alive.

We ran. Crawled. Fell and dragged ourselves up again.

Smoke poured down the halls like a living thing, swallowing the light, choking what little hope we had left.

Ethan collapsed once.

I hauled him back up, his arm a dead weight over my shoulder.

We had nothing left but instinct and each other.

Minutes passed—or hours, I couldn’t tell. Time was a blur of heat and ash and Ethan’s body against mine.

And then—

We were trapped.

A wall of steel.

No handle. No knob. No exit.

Just a keypad beside it, flickering dimly in the smoke.

Ethan slumped beside me, wheezing, one arm wrapped around his abdomen. Blood seeped through his shirt.

My heart was beating too fast to keep up with.

I stood there, swaying, staring at it through stinging eyes.

The fire was behind us now—closer than breath. Roaring. Screaming. Alive.

And then—through the fire, the bullets, the chaos—

I heard it.

“Charlotte!”

My name.

My soul froze.

Not in fear.

In recognition.

That voice, sharp with desperation, hoarse with smoke—his voice.

“Cassian?” I gasped, spinning wildly, but I could see nothing—just waves of heat and falling ash.

A gunshot cracked too close. A bullet tore through the wall beside me, so close it kissed my cheek with a sting.

“Cassian?!” I screamed, louder now. “Cassian—I’m here!”

“CHARLOTTE!” he called again, louder this time, closer. “Where are you?!”

“Here! I’m here—please—” My voice cracked. The smoke robbed it from me. I coughed, collapsing to my knees, hand stretched out into the darkness like I could touch him through it.

And then—

He appeared.

Staggering through the haze.

Cassian.

He looked like a ghost of the man I knew—hair wild, clothes torn, suit burned at the sleeves, a walking stick in one hand as he limped through the smoke like death itself couldn’t stop him.

And I ran.

I ran like I was drowning and he was air.

“Cassian!” I sobbed, crashing into him. His arms wrapped around me instantly, strong and trembling, holding me like I was something he’d been dying to touch.

He smelled of smoke and blood. I could feel the heat radiating from his back, the exhaustion in the way he leaned into me. He was shaking.

“What happened to you?” I cried into his chest, my fingers buried in his shirt. “Why are you—why—”

“4040,” he choked. “The code. For the door.”

“What?!”

“The vault door. 4040,” he rasped. “It’s a safe passage.”

“Cassian!” Ethan shouted from behind, barely able to raise his voice. “I got it!”

But the fire surged again—an explosion rocked the hallway, heat slamming into us like a freight train. One of the pillars collapsed behind Cassian. I screamed as he shoved me aside and dove with me to the floor, shielding my body with his.

Flames licked at the walls.

Gunfire faded into the background.

There was only him. His hand on my back. His lips brushing mine in the chaos.

“I love you,” I whispered into the smoke. “God, Cassian, I love you.”

His breath hitched—his voice cracked.

“My life ended when you walked away from me, Charlotte,” he whispered, tears hot on my neck. “And ever since I saw that divorce paper, I’ve been breathing through the pain—every second, every hour, just trying to survive it

I kissed him—just once. Through the fire. Through the terror. A kiss that tasted of smoke and death and years of aching silence.

And then—

“The vault’s open!” Ethan yelled.

We turned. Light flickered beyond the metal door. Safety.

“Only two can pass,” Cassian said, chest heaving. “One more body and it’ll collapse. It was designed that way.”

“Go!” I shouted. “Cassian—go with Ethan. Please, just go! You’re hurt—”

“Hell no.” He dragged me toward the door instead, forcing my hand into Ethan’s. “Keep her safe,” he barked. “If I don’t make it, you better make sure she lives.”

“Cassian, stop it!” I yelled, fighting him. “I’m not leaving you here!”

“You are. I’d die for you a thousand times over.”

The flames surged again.

A second blast rocked the ceiling.

A beam came down—right behind him—and fire caught his back. He screamed.

“Cassian!” I shrieked, reaching for him as smoke engulfed him. “CASSIAN!”

But Ethan grabbed me.

“No—NO! Let me go!” I thrashed, nails clawing at Ethan’s iron grip, my screams tearing through the smoke-choked air.

But he dragged me forward, his strength unyielding as the house burned behind us. Flames roared, my feet stumbled over debris, and Ethan yanked me into a dark tunnel—the metal vault door hissing shut with a final, deafening clang.

My knees buckled. My screams turned to sobs.

I turned back, but there was no door. No window. No sound.

Just fire on the other side.

“Cassian...” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Cassian...”

Ethan slumped beside me, his breath ragged, blood seeping through the makeshift bandages on his back and thigh. “Is he... gone?” he rasped, his voice barely audible over the pounding in my ears.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, collapsing against the wall. “God, I don’t know.”

My chest cracked open, grief and guilt spilling like blood. Sobs shook me, burning like ash in my lungs.

He came for me. After I’d divorced him, after I’d shattered his heart and walked away, Cassian had still stormed into this war, this inferno, for me. And I’d left him behind.

Was he alive? Was he burning? Was he screaming my name as the flames consumed him?

The thought was a knife, twisting deeper with every heartbeat. I’d never forgive myself—not for leaving, not for the divorce papers, not for loving him only when it was too late.

Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the soot and blood on my skin. I was crying so hard I couldn’t even see where we were going. My fingers shook with every step.

Cassian was gone.

That kiss. That last kiss.

The way he cupped my face like he knew it would be the last time.

The way I tasted smoke and blood and everything I still hadn’t said.

I would carry it like a wound.

We found a door at the end of the vault—a small steel exit that led out the back of the estate into the woods. Ethan collapsed beside a tree, panting, clutching his stitched-up side. He needed a hospital. Not painkillers or pressure pads.

“I can’t walk much farther,” he said, his face pale. “But if we can get to the main road, maybe we can find a cab. We could go to my apartment—”

“No.” My voice cracked. “No, it’s too risky. If there’s still a bounty on my head, the Bratva will be watching your place. They’ll be watching everyone.”

He nodded, eyes fluttering. “Then where?”

I swallowed. “Cassian’s penthouse. It’s heavily guarded. His estate is probably the safest place left in this city.”

We were silent for a beat. Cassian’s name tasted like grief in my mouth.

“Do you think he...?”

I couldn’t finish the sentence.

Ethan didn’t answer either.

Somehow—by sheer miracle—we flagged down a cab just off the service road. I gave the driver the address of Cassian’s estate. Ethan leaned heavily on my shoulder, the car bouncing under the weight of silence. Neither of us had a wallet. No cash. No cards.

When the car pulled up to the estate gates, I turned to Ethan.

“They’ll let me in. You should come with me.”

He shook his head. “You’re safer inside. I’ll find a hospital.”

“You don’t even have money for the cab,” I whispered.

“I’ll manage.” He tried to smile but winced from the pain. “Besides... you being out here is dangerous. Every mafia crew is probably looking for you by now. If Luca leaked anything—”

“No.” My fingers gripped his arm. “You’re bleeding. You’re not going alone—”

He reached for me. Hugged me. “I’ll be okay. I promise. Just go. Get inside.”

I held him a little longer. Maybe too long.

He was the only person I had left. And I didn’t even have a way to reach him if something went wrong.

“Be careful,” I whispered.

“You too.”

I opened the door.

Security guards at the gate recognized me instantly. Their eyes widened as I approached—covered in ash, blood, eyes hollowed from crying.

“Mrs. Moretti,” one of them said carefully. “Are you alright?”

No. I wasn’t.

But I nodded.

They ushered me into one of the estate cars and drove me up the winding path. The moment I stepped into the penthouse—

I collapsed.

The scent of him hit me immediately. He was everywhere.

But not here.

And maybe never again.

I fell to my knees right there in the living room, the lights casting sharp shadows over everything. My sobs broke the silence.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, crumpling into the couch. “I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve let you in at the hotel. I should’ve kept the letter. I should’ve held you... not pushed you away.”

The bouquet. The ribbon. The folded paper tucked in those blood-red petals. Still lying outside my hotel room door.

Unopened. Forgotten. Like him.

“Cassian,” I choked. “Please. Don’t die.”

I couldn’t sleep.

I curled up on his bed, pressing my face to his pillow. It didn’t smell the same—just smoke and sterilized silence. But I imagined it. I imagined his arm slung over me like it used to be. His voice rough against my ear, whispering my name.

I remembered the fire. The way he kissed me like he already knew it would be goodbye. The way his tears fell against my skin in the middle of chaos.

And the way I let him go.

“You can’t die,” I whispered again into the dark. “Not after everything. Not after you sacrificed your life for mine.”

I thought about Ethan, dragging me into that vault. Saving me. Even while bleeding. And now alone, on his way to a hospital I couldn’t even call.

But nothing hurt more than Vincent.

My own brother.

Choosing Luca. Shooting Ethan. Locking me up like I was no better than a pawn.

He used to call me little warrior.

Now he called me weak.

But none of that pain compared to the empty space where Cassian should’ve been.

Not in the kitchen, hovering with a plate of food.

Not pacing the hallway.

Not reading in the chair by the fireplace with his glasses on.

And maybe never again.

I curled tighter on the bed, silent tears dripping into the silk sheets. The fire still echoed behind my eyes. So did his voice.

“ I love you.”

“My life ended when you walked away from me.”

“I’d die for you a thousand times.”

What if he did?

What if he already had?