Page 13 of Crushed Vow

I stared into the darkness, into the quiet street that now felt like it belonged to him. And I hated that I couldn’t say the truth. That part of me still ached for him in ways that felt like sickness.

Instead, I whispered, “Go to hell.”

Then I hung up.

The phone trembled in my hand. I stared at it like it might burn me.

Ethan was already walking toward me. “Did he say anything threatening?”

“Yes,” I said. “Everything out of his mouth felt like a threat.”

Ethan didn’t argue. He looked at me for a long second, like he was trying to figure out what part of me Cassian had already broken. Then he nodded slowly, stepped forward, and reached for the door.

But I didn’t move.

I stood there, frozen, staring into the empty street beyond us.

The silence wrapped around me like a shroud.

I wasn’t alone anymore.

And somehow, that terrified me more than the solitude ever had.

Chapter 3

CHARLOTTE

I stood beside my brother, staring at the grave of the only woman who ever loved me unconditionally.

The soil was fresh, the tombstone gray and plain. My fingers gripped the bouquet tighter as I knelt down and placed it gently on her grave. Vincent did the same, the silence between us a fragile kind of mourning.

I didn’t know the version of my mother who was cruel to Cassian’s family. I only knew the woman who tucked me in at night, who called me her miracle.

Tears slipped down my cheeks. I hated that I hadn’t gotten to say goodbye. That she’d died while I was locked away—while the man who claimed to love me had every opportunity to let me see her and chose not to.

Grief buckled my knees. I sank to the ground, my fingers curling into the grass as pain crashed through me like a wave I couldn’t outrun.

Vincent knelt beside me. He didn’t pull me into a hug or try to hush the sobs. He just rested his rough hand on my shoulder.

“She loved you, Charlotte,” he said, voice low and thick with grief. “Whatever else people say about her... the parts that were good? They were real. And they were yours.”

We stayed like that for a moment—knees in the dirt, our mother’s name etched in stone between us.

Then we stood together, turning slowly from the grave.

Vincent’s expression hardened.

His jaw clenched, “I swear to God,” he muttered, “Father told me you’d left the country. Said he’d done everything to find you. I didn’t know he’d had you locked in a psych ward. If I had...” He shook his head, fury simmering just beneath the surface. “I wouldn’t have let that happen.”

I gave a small, tired smile. “It’s okay. I’m out now.”

I looked up at him. “And you don’t have to worry about me, alright? I’ll be fine.”

We both knew that was a lie, but I need him to believe it, need to protect the only family I have left.

What hurt most wasn’t just that she was gone—it was that Cassian denied me the chance to see her. He could’ve told me. He could’ve let me visit. But he chose silence. And now she was dust beneath my feet.

He thinks I’ll forgive him? Not even in his best fantasy.