Page 46 of Crushed Vow

Static crackled, then a choked breath. “Charlotte... it’s me.”

My spine straightened. “Ethan?”

“I made it out.” His words were strained, broken, like they were being forced through gritted teeth. “I barely made it out of the Volkov Bratva estate. Got a bullet in my back for it.”

“What?” I shot to my feet, the panic rushing back. “Where are you? Where are you right now?”

He paused. “Somewhere deep in the woods off the old Kreshnik trail. There’s a clearing near the dried-up creek. I couldn’t go far. I—I think they’re still looking.”

“I’m coming,” I breathed, already stumbling toward the dresser for jeans. “Don’t move. Don’t go anywhere.”

“I can’t,” he rasped. “Just... be careful.”

The line went dead.

I pulled on the first hoodie I could find, barely zipping it as I crossed the room in shaky strides. My palms were still damp. My throat still raw.

When I opened the door again—ready to bolt, I stopped.

Something lay at my doorstep.

A bouquet.

Roses. Blood red. Their petals bruised from the night air.

A black silk ribbon wound tightly around the stems—too tight, like it was holding something in.

And nestled between the blooms, a folded note.

My name etched on it in his handwriting.

Cassian.

My breath hitched. My fingers hovered before I finally picked it up.

The paper trembled in my grip as I opened it.

Charlotte,

I stood outside your door longer than I should have.

Not because I thought you’d let me in.

But because I didn’t know where else to go.

I know I broke you.

I know I don’t deserve to be the one who holds your pain.

But I’ll wait—for the rest of my life if I have to.

And if you never come back, I’ll understand.

But you’ll always have a home, Charlotte.

Even if it’s not with me.

—Cassian.