Page 85 of Crushed Vow

The driver turned, startled. “Uh—ma’am, are you okay—”

“Drive!” I screamed, almost sobbing now. “Fucking drive!”

He obeyed instantly, tires rolling forward.

As we pulled away, I caught one last glimpse of them through the window. One was still laughing, while the other clutched his crotch on the ground, red-faced and wheezing.

Behind them, leaning against the pillar like a phantom out of my nightmares—

Cassian.

Still watching.

Still saying nothing.

And it broke something I didn’t even know was left to break.

The moment we were out of sight, the sobs broke free.

Tears spilled hot down my cheeks, my throat closing as I tried to keep quiet—but I couldn’t. My chest heaved with every ragged breath. I pressed a hand to my mouth, trying not to wail.

It was too much.

The shame. The grief. The fact that Cassian—Cassian, who used to rip men apart for even looking at me—stood by and did nothing.

My vision blurred. I couldn’t breathe. The pain wasn’t just in my chest—it was in my bones. In every memory. In every cell.

I curled into myself in the backseat like a child, arms wrapped around my knees, sobbing so hard I could barely see the streetlights pass.

He watched me fall apart.

And didn’t even blink.

It wasn’t just the mockery that was shredding me from the inside—it was the fact that Cassian stood there. He stood there and watched. Maybe if he hadn’t been there, the words wouldn’t have hit so deep. Maybe the jokes about my chest would’ve stung, but not gutted me the way they did. But he was. He heard it all. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t move.

I wiped at my tears furiously as the Uber driver pulled to a stop and said gently, “We’re here, ma’am.”

He didn’t ask why I was crying. Good. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want anyone to know. I just wanted to disappear.

I paid him, stepped out without another word, and dragged my body toward the estate gates. The security guards recognized me and, without a word, drove me in one of the estate cars back to the house he’d given me—my own gilded cage across the street from his.

I shouldn’t have come here. I should’ve gone anywhere else—miles away from him, from this world. But the truth was, anywhere far from him felt like a war zone. Unsafe. Empty. Incomplete.

He had made sure no part of me could breathe without him.

Inside, I locked the door behind me, tore off my shoes like they were suffocating me, and stripped as I stormed into the bedroom.

The towel, the dress, everything—ripped off my body and discarded like dead skin. Now bare, I walked up to the mirror and stared.

My reflection blinked back at me. My chest—flat, almost fully healed—looked foreign. Hollow. Like someone had stolen a part of me and left the shell behind.

I used to have curves.

I used to have breasts that filled out dresses, made men look twice, made me feel like a woman. I used to walk into rooms and own them. Now... now I couldn’t even look at myself without wincing.

No one wanted me anymore.

Not Cassian. Not Ethan. Not even that hot doctor who, for one fleeting second, I’d tried to flirt with to get away from this pain. But he’d looked at my chest too. He’d tried to hide it behind words, behind a business card, behind gentle doctorly sympathy—but I saw it. I felt it. I knew.