Page 34 of Crushed Vow (Broken Vows #2)

“Charlotte, you can keep talking on the phone in the car,” Manuel said, voice calm, coaxing, as he slipped behind the wheel and started the engine. The hum filled the lot like a warning.

I didn’t move.

My feet were nailed to the pavement. My gut screamed ‘don’t.’ The air around me felt charged, like the moment before lightning splits the sky.

Then Cassian’s voice cracked through the speaker—low, guttural, shaking with fury.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve done for you, Charlotte? The wars I’ve fought, the deals I’ve made to keep you safe? I’ve bled for you. Killed for you. Burned alive for you.”

His breath hitched—just for a second—but it sounded like he’d punched a wall.

“And this is how you repay me?” His voice turned hoarse, gutted.

“By going on a date with a man... eating with him... smiling at him like he earned it?” He exhaled hard, shaky.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

“I haven’t done anything wrong. I went on a date, that’s all. Will you come get me or not?”“ I fired back, forcing strength into my voice

A pause. The kind that felt like the breath before a massacre.

“Twenty minutes,” he gritted out. “I’m coming. Don’t fucking move.”

“I’m sorry,” I said coldly. “I can’t wait.”

There was silence on the other end.

Then—so soft it chilled me:

“Oh, you’ll wait, Charlotte. You’ll wait—unless you want me to burn this entire city to the ground. With him in it.”

I flinched. “You’re insane.”

“No. I’m in love,” he hissed. “Which is worse.”

“Watch me,” I snapped, then ended the call before I could change my mind.

My fingers trembled as I reached for the handle. I slid into the car.

The door shut with a heavy, final thud. It felt like locking myself in a cage.

He’s no longer my husband. And he never will be again. He needs to get that through his deluded head

As Manuel pulled out of the lot, I sat in rigid silence, still tasting the bitter venom of Cassian’s voice in my ears.

He glanced at me, one hand loosely on the wheel, the other tapping the steering column. “Your relationship with your ex-husband sounds... intense.”

I didn’t even look at him. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I snapped. My voice was flat, deadened, but the fury beneath it churned like a storm.

How dare he act like I owed him anything—after what he did to my mother, after leaving me humiliated, broken, gutted with scars that still hadn’t healed? The leash, the orders, the silence while others laughed at me like I was nothing.

No sacrifice could erase that. Not even him losing his sight in the fire—for me.

Forgiveness wasn’t just far away—it was dead. Distant like a dream I stopped having.

I shifted uncomfortably, realizing the streets outside weren’t familiar. The restaurant lights had long disappeared behind us.

My stomach twisted.

Wait.

I looked at the dashboard, then out the window.

Where the hell were we going?

We weren’t on the road to Cassian’s estate.

Not even close.

“I didn’t give you my address,” I said slowly, my voice tightening. “It’s 1427 Willow Lane. East side.”

“Got it,” Manuel said casually. “I just need to swing by my place real quick. Pick up a file. Then I’ll drop you off.”

My heart punched against my ribs.

“Excuse me?” My tone cut sharper now. “No. I’m not going to your house.”

“It’ll take two minutes,” he said, keeping his voice cool—but I saw it. The flicker of annoyance. The way his jaw clenched ever so slightly. His hands gripped the wheel tighter. “I just need to quickly do something,” he added. “That’s all.”

I turned fully to face him, my pulse pounding so loud it drowned the hum of the engine. “Pull over. Now.”

He didn’t answer.

The lights outside blurred. My palms were slick. My throat closed.

My mind raced. The way Cassian had sounded panicked on the phone, like he knew something.

I hadn’t listened.

God. What if he was right?

The memory of the psych ward slammed into me without warning. The thick leather straps.

The cold sting of the needle.

The hollow smile of the nurse as she pushed it into my veins. My screams swallowed by walls that didn’t care.

I gripped my phone so tight my fingers hurt.

Cassian would tear the city down to find me—if I could just reach him.

If I wasn’t already too late.

The street ahead curved into a dark stretch of nothing. No houses. No lights. No way this was the path to his house.

I was alone. Again.

And something told me... I wasn’t getting home tonight.

Manuel brought the car to a halt.

Then—without a word of warning, he stepped out.

“I’ll drive you home, I promise,” he tossed over his shoulder. No explanation. No glance back.

His figure retreated toward the darkened house.

It wasn’t late. But it felt like midnight had swallowed the sun.

I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust this.

I didn’t care if I looked paranoid anymore, I opened the door and stepped out. My heels hit the pavement in sharp, panicked bursts.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Faster.

Tap-tap-tap.

Then into a full sprint.

I glanced over my shoulder. His door was still open. But I wasn’t waiting to see him return.

That’s when my phone rang.

Cassian.

My breath hitched as I answered, mid-stride. “Why are you calling me?”

His voice came through ragged, strained, like he’d been holding it back too long. “You disappeared off the map. Where are you?”

I slowed, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I was tracking you, Charlotte,” he snapped. “And suddenly—nothing. You vanished. That doesn’t happen unless your phone’s off, or—”

A beat. A darker silence.

“Or you’re in danger.”

I stiffened.

“You were yelling at me,” I snapped, walking faster again, clutching the phone tighter. “So why are you tracking me?”

“I wasn’t.” His voice cracked. “I was angry you went out with another man. I didn’t mean—”

“You always mean it when it hurts.”

“I set out the second you left. But now I can’t find you. I’m worried—deeply. Where the hell are you?”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “Now you care?”

“I’ve always cared,” he said softly. Too softly. “Tell me where you are. Please.”

I hesitated.

“I’m... in his house,” I lied.

Because I didn’t want to sound helpless. Because I wanted to be strong. Because I didn’t want him to save me.

I hung up before he could say anything else. Just then, a cab rolled past. I flagged it down, practically throwing myself into the backseat. Gave my address and didn’t look back.

I silenced my phone.

By the time I reached the estate gate, the guards looked baffled—probably wondering why I wasn’t in the same car I left with. But they didn’t ask questions. One of them offered to escort me to my building.

Once I reached the house, I slammed the door shut behind me and let out a sharp breath

Safe.

But my phone started ringing again.

It was Manuel.

I hesitated, then answered. “Hey.”

“You didn’t wait for me?” His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it.

“You were acting weird,” I said, my fingers tightening around the phone. “And I’ve got trust issues, okay?”

A pause, then a heavy sigh. “I get it. My daughter’s asthmatic, Charlotte. She called me while I was by your car—she couldn’t find her inhaler. I had a spare in the house, and I needed to get it to her. It’s a life-or-death thing for her.”

Guilt flickered in my chest, but it was quickly drowned by suspicion. “I didn’t know that,” I said, my voice neutral and guarded.

“I know your past is rough,” he continued, his tone softening, almost pleading. “But you need to believe there are still good people out there. If I was going to hurt you, I would’ve done it already. I didn’t even touch you.”

“Or maybe you were waiting for the right moment,” I shot back, my voice sharp.

“Look, I don’t know you well enough to trust you, and I don’t want to keep this going.

We’re not friends. What happened at the hospital was a mistake, like I told you.

Don’t call me again, Manuel. I mean it. If you do, I’ll block you.

I’m sorry if this sounds harsh, but from now on, we’re strangers. Goodbye.”

I hung up, my hand trembling as I tossed the phone onto the couch.

I sank deeper into the cushions, my breath shaky, my chest tight with the weight of the night—Grayson’s venom, the flat tires that felt too deliberate to be coincidence. Manuel’s detour.

I didn’t even know when sleep had claimed me. One minute I was curled in the armchair, heart pounding from the night’s chaos—

And the next—

BANG.

The front door exploded open with a force so violent I screamed, nearly tumbling from the chair. My heart slammed against my ribs as I jolted upright, breath caught in my throat.

Cassian.

He stood in the doorway like something ripped from a nightmare.

His long black coat flared out behind him like wings, soaked and whipping from the wind outside.

His hair was disheveled. His jaw clenched so hard the veins in his neck were taut. The concave glasses masked his ruined eyes, but even through them, I could feel it—his rage.

A shiver cut down my spine.

“Surprised I made it home?” I managed, trying to keep my voice steady as I rose to my feet. My fists clenched at my sides, hiding their tremble.

His boots hit the floor with heavy, deliberate steps as he entered, his presence suffocating.

“You wouldn’t have made it home without me,” he said. Each word vibrated with restrained violence.

I blinked. “What?”

“Manuel works for Luca.”

The blood drained from my face. My knees gave out, and I dropped onto the couch.

“What?” I whispered again, barely able to form the word.

Cassian didn’t sit beside me. He dropped into the chair across from me like a loaded weapon.

“The plan was simple,” he said. “He was meant to drive you straight to a warehouse outside the city. Luca was waiting. No cameras. No witnesses. No body.”

His tone cracked like a whip.

“This time, Luca wouldn’t make the mistake of getting caught. Not after the deal I forced him into. He can’t touch you directly—not anymore. But that doesn’t stop him from using men like Manuel. Doctors. Drivers. Ghosts.”

My mind raced—back to the dinner, to the flat tires, to the sudden detour.

“You’re lying.”

He leaned forward slowly.

“One of my men went to his house,” he said, voice graveled with hatred. “He made his daughter call him. He told her to say she couldn’t find her inhaler. That she couldn’t breathe. That’s why he stopped by. That’s the only reason you’re still here.”

A hollow silence stretched between us.

Everything fell into place.

The detour. The way he touched the wheel too tightly. The fake calm in his voice.

“You... you did that?” I choked, pressing shaking hands to my face. “You used his daughter?”

“I used what I had,” Cassian growled. “You think I’d let them take you again? You think I’d gamble with your life?”

My stomach twisted.

Then his voice dropped lower. “Didn’t I tell you not to go out without telling me?”

“I’m not your prisoner,” I snapped, defiance cracking through my fear like a whip. “I go where I want, when I want. Whether I tell you or not is my decision.”

He moved closer.

“You could’ve been kidnapped—or worse, killed. Do you even understand that? I risked everything for you. Everything. And still, you walked straight into a trap.”

His fists clenched.

“After everything we’ve been through, you still won’t listen to me.”

He faltered.

“Why?”

His voice frayed on the last word, like something in him was breaking.

“Because I don’t belong to you,” I bit out, even though my pulse was skittering like a trapped bird.

“No,” he whispered, voice shaking with obsession. “But you did. And I keep waking up every damn day hoping you’ll remember what it felt like. To be mine.”

There was a flicker in his voice then—something almost vulnerable—but it was quickly drowned by something darker.

His gaze raked over me, and his expression turned to ice. “What happened between you and him?” he asked, the words clipped. “Did he touch you?”

“That’s none of your business.”

That was the wrong answer.

He straightened slowly, something shifting behind his glasses—some ancient, territorial fury waking up.

Then, without taking his eyes off me, he pulled out his phone and tapped something. One second passed. Two. Then the door slammed open with a violent crack.

Brooks stepped in—dragging Manuel.

He was unrecognizable. His crisp blazer was soaked and torn, his face a canvas of bruises and dried blood. His lip was split, one eye nearly swollen shut. Chains bit into his wrists and ankles as he hit the floor with a sound that made my stomach twist.

“Cassian, what the hell—” I shot to my feet.

“He didn’t touch me!” The words burst out of me, panicked. “I swear—he didn’t lay a hand on me!”

Cassian’s expression didn’t waver. “Then explain the hickey on your neck.”

“What?” My hand froze in the air. “There’s no—”

But even as I said it, my fingers scrambled for my phone. I turned on the front camera, angling it shakily toward my neck.

My stomach dropped.

There it was.

Faint. Purple. A kiss-shaped bruise blooming just below my jawline—delicate, damning.

“I... I don’t...” I couldn’t finish. My voice broke. “I don’t know how that got there.”

Cassian said nothing.

Nothing.

Just stared.

Behind his glasses, I saw it—his breath catching, his shoulders stilling.

Fear.

Not the fear of being betrayed.

But the fear of losing me all over again.

The way his hands trembled at his sides, like he didn’t know whether to destroy or fall to his knees. Like this single mark on my skin had undone him. And maybe it had.

“I swear to you,” I whispered, barely able to breathe. “No one touched me. I don’t know where this came from, Cassian, I swear on everything I have left—”

“You’re mine,” he whispered, brokenly. “You were mine. And I’ve been trying, I’ve been trying so goddamn hard. but I can’t keep doing this if you don’t let me protect you. I can’t—” His breath stuttered. “You have no idea what I’ve done to keep you breathing.”

And just like that, the man who’d once dragged me in chains stood before me—shaking.

Unmoored. Not from power. But from me.

And I didn’t know whether to scream or weep.