Page 65 of Crushed Vow

I stormed past him without another word. My heart slammed against my chest, every beat a reminder that he was still here.

Why couldn’t he have just stayed gone?

“We need to talk,” I snapped.

The living room was dim, early light filtering in through the windows. I stood in the middle, arms crossed, as he followed—each step slower than the last. He reached the nearest armchair and nearly missed it before sinking into it stiffly, his hands trailing over the fabric like he couldn’t see it.

I stared.

He was walking like someone who couldn’t see clearly.

But I didn’t care.

Not now.

“You had my mother killed, didn’t you?”

He didn’t flinch.

“Answer me,” I barked. “You lied to me. You told me she died. Naturally. Like her heart just stopped on its own.”

He exhaled. Leaned forward slightly, fingers twitching over the edge of his knee.

“I saved your life,” he said. His voice low, raw. “I dragged myself through fire. Nearly died to get you out. And this is the first thing you want to talk about?”

“Don’t you dare make yourself the victim.”

He stilled.

“You want me to thank you for setting her up in some private ward, only to put her down like a dog when it became too hard to manage?” My voice cracked. “You killed her, Cassian. You took that from me.”

“Where did you hear this?” he asked quietly.

“Does it matter?” I spit. “Did you do it or not?”

A pause.

Then, finally, a slow nod. “Yes. I gave the order. But—”

“But what?!” I screamed. “She was my mother! I should’ve been the one to decide! You had no right.”

He pushed up from the chair suddenly, stumbling slightly like his world tilted differently now. “She was in pain, Charlotte. Screaming. Begging. The doctors—”

“I don’t care what they said. You lied.” My hands trembled as I backed away. “And you wonder why I divorced you. Why I left.”

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to break what little was left of you.”

“You broke me the moment you told me to get out of your study—after calling me the slutty daughter of a whore,” I hissed.

“Then why did you cry when you thought I died?”

I froze.

“Why did you beg me to live in that fire, Charlotte? Why did you kiss me like you hadn’t already walked away?”

Silence.

“Because,” I said shakily, “I didn’t want you to die before I had the chance to hate you properly.”