Page 31 of Crushed Vow

Ethan gave a tight nod. “Understood.”

Cassian said nothing for a while, then finally sat beside me. His jaw was tight. His hand found mine under the table—not possessive, not forceful. Just... there.

I didn’t pull away.

“Do you have a family?” He asked quietly, turning to Ethan.

Cassian didn’t hesitate. His voice was sharp—like a blade against glass.

“Because if you interfere with the Bratva, they won’t come after you first. They’ll come for your family. All of them. That’s how this works. You don’t get to poke the bear and walk away untouched.”

Ethan didn’t flinch. “I’m aware of the risks.”

“No, you’re not,” Cassian said flatly. “You think you’re smart, but you’re assuming the Bratva don’t have tech guys smarter than you, better funded than you. They do. You’re not invincible, and you’re not untouchable. Stay out of it. I already have men on the inside.”

Ethan’s expression hardened. “Your men didn’t find Charlotte. I did. While you were tearing continents apart, I walked into a psych ward and got her out. Maybe don’t underestimate me either, Mr. Moretti.”

Cassian’s eyes flicked with warning. “So why are you here, then? If you’re such a hero, why not do it yourself?”

“Because I’m not stupid. I need backup.” Ethan folded his arms. “I need at least two of your best men stationed at my place full-time. And I want armed coverage when I’m out. Give me that, and I’ll get Vincent out within two weeks.”

I looked between them, anxiety twisting in my chest. This felt like something volatile—something one word away from exploding.

Cassian let out a low, dark laugh. “You think you’re royalty, boy? Do you have any idea how much my men cost me per month?”

“You’re one of the wealthiest men on the eastern seaboard,” Ethan said calmly. “And this is for your wife’s brother. That makes it your problem.”

Cassian went quiet. He turned to me. “Charlotte. Do you care about this boy?”

“He’s my friend,” I said honestly. “He’s more like family now.”

“And you don’t want him dead.”

I shook my head. “Of course not.”

Cassian stared at Ethan again. “Then tell him to walk away. Because that’s what the Bratva does—they kill. And I don’t want you losing someone else you love.”

“I’m not backing down,” Ethan said, voice even. “You’ll have to learn to live with that.”

I looked at him, uncertain. “Ethan... are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he said gently. “Trust me.”

I wanted to. God, I did. But I’d seen what Cassian was capable of. I’d seen what the Bratva could do. And suddenly, this didn’t feel like loyalty—it felt like a death sentence wrapped in good intentions.

“I don’t know,” I said, voice quiet. “I want Vincent back... but not like this. Not if it means losing you.”

Ethan stepped forward, calm but resolute. “I’ve risked my life for less. If I die doing this, I’ll die knowing I did something that mattered.”

Cassian stood, the chair groaning slightly under his shift in weight. He stared down at Ethan with pure suspicion.

“Why?” he asked, voice low. “Why would you risk everything for her? And don’t give me that bullshit about childhood friendship. What’s the real reason?”

I reached for his arm, sensing the heat rising beneath his skin.

“I’m not in love with her, if that’s what you’re implying,” Ethan said simply. “She matters to me. That’s enough.”

He adjusted his jacket and glanced at me, then turned back toward the door.