Page 22 of Crushed Vow (Broken Vows #2)

“The thing between you two?” Cassian said, his voice low and lethal, eyes never leaving Ethan. “It’s not something I can tolerate anymore.”

“You’re in her heart,” he went on, each word deliberate. “And I hate it. I hate the way she breathes easier when you’re in the room. The way she still tries to protect you.”

His voice darkened as he stepped closer to Ethan’s bedside.

“She belongs to me. Whether she wants to admit it or not. And I will burn the world before I let her give that part of herself to anyone else.”

“You don’t get to talk like that!” I snapped, stepping between them. “He’s barely recovering, Cassian. He’s not your enemy.”

Ethan, ever calm despite the threat of death, sat up a little straighter. “I’m healing,” he said, his voice steady but hoarse. “Doc said walking might be rough for a few weeks, but I’m not dying.”

“Oh my God, Ethan...” I exhaled, walking to the foot of the bed, trying to keep distance between him and Cassian. “I’m so sorry. I was terrified. I didn’t know if you’d made.”

He gave me a tired smile. “It’s okay. But thank Cassian, not me. I didn’t have a dollar when I got here. He sent one of his best guys. Said he had orders to make sure I got the best care. Got me into a private wing.”

I blinked, stunned. “What?”

Cassian didn’t react. He just stood there like a marble statue with a blade tucked in his suit.

If I hadn’t heard it from Ethan, I wouldn’t have believed it.

Cassian, the same man who just threw a knife at Ethan—also made sure he didn’t bleed out.

“Thank you,” I said softly, glancing at Cassian. The words stung on my tongue. But they were real.

He didn’t respond to me.

He just turned his cold, unreadable stare back to Ethan.

“I want you out of New York. For good,” he said, voice flat. “If I see you again, if I feel your presence near her again, I swear I’ll put a bullet through your spine and not lose a minute of sleep over it.”

His hand curled slowly into a fist at his side, but his tone never rose, never cracked. That made it worse.

“I can’t stand how much of her heart you occupy. She shouldn’t care this deeply about any man who isn’t me. She shouldn’t worry like this—shouldn’t look at anyone the way she looked at you just now. That’s mine. It was always supposed to be mine.”

He took one small, deliberate step forward, like he could end Ethan with just that movement.

“You accept my offer or not?” he asked, voice colder than steel.

Ethan sighed. It was a quiet sound, but it carried years of pain, war, and weariness.

“When I can walk again, I’ll go,” he said. “I want to see my daughter anyway.”

My heart stuttered.

“You... you have a daughter?”

He didn’t meet my eyes. Just stared down at his hands — hands that had held me once when I was broken. Hands now pale and bruised and barely healed.

“Yeah,” he said flatly. No trace of pride. No smile. “She lives with her mom. Woman’s married now... to someone else. I gave her full custody. Wasn’t in any state to be a father. Not back then.”

A lump rose in my throat, and I couldn’t swallow it. My voice cracked. “Ethan... I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said quickly, but not unkindly. “It’s life. We make our choices. Or sometimes... they’re made for us.”

Silence settled again.

“I need to see my parents too,” he added after a beat. “Haven’t been home in years. Guess... Chicago’s calling me back.”

He said it like a goodbye.

And maybe it was.

I reached for his hand, just to offer comfort—but Cassian’s voice cut through the air like a whip.

“Don’t.”

I froze. Inches from Ethan’s fingers.

“Charlotte,” Cassian warned, his tone dark, “don’t tempt me.”

I turned to him slowly, trembling with fury and disbelief. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“She’s not yours to command,” Ethan added, voice calm but firm.

Cassian didn’t flinch. His eyes—hidden behind those damn glasses—were unreadable.

“We’re divorced,” I said, as if that would change anything. As if anything could ever be simple with Cassian Moretti.

Ethan’s brows lifted. “Officially?”

I nodded. “Officially.”

He looked like he wanted to say something, maybe even vulnerable, but his eyes flicked back to Cassian.

And just like that, the words died in his throat.

He swallowed them.

Because Cassian was still watching. And no one survived being the target of Cassian’s wrath twice.

I hated that. Hated how Cassian’s presence stifled everything good. Every breath. Every conversation.

“I’ll come see you again tomorrow,” I told Ethan, my voice gentler. “I promise. You’re not alone here.”

But Cassian shook his head. “No, you won’t.”

“What?”

“I already gave the order. You won’t be allowed back after today.”

I took a step forward, furious. “Why the hell not?!”

“Because I won’t stand here and watch you fall for someone else while I’m trying to claw my way out of the wreckage I made of you,” he bit out. “I’m trying to fix what I broke, Charlotte. Piece by piece. And I won’t let you slip away while I’m still bleeding for the damage I caused.”

His voice cracked on the last words, but there was no apology in his eyes. Only possession. Only torment. Only a man unraveling at the seams but still desperate to hold on.

“Let’s go, Charlotte.”

“I’m not following you,” I snapped, the words trembling with rage and grief. “You don’t own me anymore. We signed the damn papers.”

“Stop acting like you’re still my husband,” I added, louder now, my voice echoing off the sterile walls.

He didn’t move. Just stood there like a storm held in human form.

A muscle ticked in his cheek.

Then he turned without a word and walked out.

I turned back to Ethan, hoping we finally had a moment. But just as I reached for the chair beside his bed, the door opened again—and two hospital security guards stepped in.

“Mrs. Charlotte?” one said. “We’ve been instructed to escort you out.”

My jaw dropped.

Cassian.

Of course.

He hadn’t just walked away. He had ordered my removal the second he stepped into that hallway.

“I’m not done visiting him—!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. These are strict instructions.”

I looked at Ethan, my chest twisting with guilt and rage. “I swear I’ll find a way back. I promise.”

Ethan gave a tired smile, something bittersweet behind his eyes. “You’ve always been stubborn, Charlotte. I don’t doubt you.”

I nodded, lips trembling.

Then I turned—and stormed out of the ward with fury crawling beneath my skin like fire ants. My fists were clenched. My jaw locked tight.

A nurse passed by in the hallway just as I did. I shoved past her shoulder, hard. Nearly slammed into her, but I didn’t stop. She muttered something behind me—maybe a curse, maybe concern, but I didn’t care.

I was choking on anger.

Choking on humiliation.

Cassian had thrown me out of a hospital room like I was some side piece. Like I didn’t matter. Like Ethan didn’t matter.

Like everything I’d fought for—my freedom, my healing, my right to exist on my own terms—was still negotiable.

And then I saw him.

Standing outside the hospital doors, tall and poised like sin itself.

Cassian Moretti.

Right beside his matte-black motorcycle—Sophia—his precious machine, glinting in the sunlight.

The key remote twirled lazily in his fingers, his back half-leaned against a pillar like he was waiting for me to fall in line. Like nothing that had just happened inside the hospital room was wrong.

Like he hadn’t just ordered me to be removed from someone I cared about.

My blood screamed.

I didn’t slow. Didn’t look at him.

I walked right past him.

I would not get on that bike.