Page 12 of Sinful Obsession (Broken Vows #3)

“She was in an accident. Severe amnesia.”

The doctor leaned in, eyes scanning me carefully. He was professional, but I saw something in his gaze. Sympathy, maybe. Or dread.

I said quietly, “I remember most of my past... but the last three years are just gone. It’s like someone cut them out with a scalpel. I need to know what’s wrong with me—and how to get them back.”

The doctor gave a measured nod, his eyes scanning the chart before meeting mine. “Memory loss of this nature could be due to several causes—traumatic brain injury, severe psychological trauma, or even dissociative amnesia triggered by extreme stress.”

“Given the specificity of the timeframe, dissociative amnesia is likely, often linked to a significant event your mind has suppressed to protect you.”

He leaned forward, his voice steady. “We’ll need to run tests—an MRI to rule out physical damage, and a psychological evaluation to assess trauma. In the meantime, therapy, such as cognitive behavioral therapy or EMDR, can help unlock suppressed memories.”

“Journaling, revisiting familiar places, or talking with people from your past may also trigger recall, but it must be done carefully to avoid overwhelming you.”

He asked me more questions—simple ones, things I should’ve known without thinking. But my mind stayed blank. Every answer felt like grasping smoke.

Cassian sat beside me the entire time, never more than a breath away. Every time I trembled, his hand steadied me. Every time my voice wavered, his presence wrapped around me like armor.

“We’ll run scans, but trauma-induced memory loss is unpredictable.” The doctor finally said.

“Start whatever needs to be started,” Cassian said.

The doctor nodded solemnly. “But you need to understand—there’s a chance she may never recover all of her memories.”

Cassian’s response was instant and ice-cold. “That’s not an option,” he said. “She will remember. Every second. Or you’ll be looking for another job.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

I stared at him, my pulse roaring in my ears.

We left the office, his hand on my lower back, guiding me back to the bike. The ride home was silent.

Back home, Cassian had been unusually quiet. Like he was holding in more than words.

His gaze settled on me like a weight. “You need to be careful, Charlotte,” he said, voice controlled.

“There are people who would use your memory loss against you. Luca—my brother—is no longer just blood, he’s a threat.

He wants to dismantle what I built. Artem, the new Bratva boss—his father’s barely in the ground, and already he’s circling like a vulture.

And your father, Grayson... he’s not above using his own daughter to get what he wants. ”

I blinked, unsettled. “So... no one knows I’ve lost my memory?”

He shook his head once. “And they shouldn’t. The moment they find out, they’ll come for you. Twist you. Use you.”

A beat passed in silence.

“I heard... someone mention we were married. But now divorced?”

Cassian’s eyes didn’t flinch. “We’re still married.”

“But—”

“I let them believe we divorced.” His tone was unreadable—too calm.

I couldn’t tell if he was lying. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

My chest tightened. “You hate me. But you still protected me from those men? And you’re still keeping me here?”

“Yes,” he said. His voice was steady, almost gentle. “Because only here can I make you suffer for what you did to me.”

I swallowed hard. “For killing your sister... and betraying you?”

He stared at me for a long, dragging moment.

He moved then, walking to the largest couch and sinking into it like a king reclaiming his throne.

“Don’t bother trying to leave the estate. The guards have orders not to let you step one foot outside.”

My eyes narrowed. “So I’m your prisoner.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Charlotte. You are.”

I nodded slowly, pulse pounding beneath my skin. “I see...”

I finally shifted the conversation, needing distance from the storm behind his eyes.

I stared at him, my heart racing. “What happens,” I asked carefully, “if you don’t win the leadership trials?”

His gaze snapped to mine. “Then I lose everything.”

He leaned forward, forearms braced on his knees. “My empire. My power. My men. You.”

I flinched. “Me?”

He nodded once. “If I fall, you become a pawn in someone else’s hands. Artem. Luca. Your father. Maybe even your captor. Do you think any of them would protect you the way I do? No. They’ll devour you. Piece by piece.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it.

“I need the truth,” I said, my voice steady despite the panic. “About Elodie, about my captor, about us. I’ll find it, Cassian, with or without you.”

“Without me,” he said, voice lethal, “you won’t find anything. You’ll only find danger. Lies. And men who want to tear you apart for sport.”

“Then tell me.”

He stood and stepped closer, his presence suffocating. “You’re so desperate to remember,” he said, voice cruelly calm. “But if you knew what you did... or what was done to you...”

His eyes didn’t waver, and neither did the chill behind them.

“You’d beg to forget again. You’d claw at your skull trying to rip the memories out. And you’d realize the dark was the only mercy you ever had.”

I swallowed hard, fighting the panic rising in my chest.

“I need to go back to the House of Devils,” I whispered, my voice resolute, “Please.”

Begging was the only card I had left. “You’re one of the bosses there. If anyone can get me back in, it’s you. And you’re needed. You know that.”

His silence pushed a lump to my throat, but I kept going.

“I need to finish the contest. It’s the only way I can claim what my grandfather left me.”

“It’s not the only way,” Cassian said coolly. “Your grandfather and mine made a pact. As long as we stay married until December of this year... you get everything tied to the Grayson name. Every coin, every ounce of power.”

“Being married to you means you get a share of it,” I said, my voice cutting like glass. “You’d control me. My legacy. Everything my grandfather meant for me.”

He stepped forward and grabbed my jaw, his grip firm but not bruising—yet. “I don’t need a share.”

He tilted my face to his. “You... are enough for me.”

I tried not to flinch. “Easy to say,” I muttered. “But I don’t want you to be part of my win. I want a divorce. Then I’ll go back and finish what I started. Alone.”

Cassian released me, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips.

“What makes you think you’d survive there?

” he said mockingly. “Among dozens of burly mafia heirs, you—a slip of a girl pretending to be Charles—would’ve turned to ash in the first trial.

The fire ring would’ve consumed you, and yet you want to go back? ”

“I’d be safer there,” I shot back, my voice rising, desperation breaking through. “Luca, Artem, my father—they can’t touch me in the underworld. I’d be free, in a way, not your locked-up criminal here.”

He hummed thoughtfully, stepping in until all I could breathe was him.

“Please,” I whispered, placing a hand on his chest without thinking.

He grabbed it and looked down at my ring with a flash of cold fury.

“Take it off.”

I blinked. “Isn’t it your ring?” I asked.

Unless they were right—Luca, Artem, my father—unless we were already divorced. Unless I was kidnapped and married to someone else.

He stared at the ring like he wanted to tear it off with his teeth.

“I tried,” I said quickly. “It won’t come off. It’s... burned into my skin.”

Cassian’s eyes darkened. “Then I’ll bring someone to remove it. Today.”

My heart dropped. “Why?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he said. “Your first torture begins tonight. On my bed.”

Then he turned away, leaving me trembling, swallowed by a wave of fear and disbelief.

My first torture? For sins I can’t even remember?

Frustration exploded inside me.

I sank to my knees, hands trembling, fighting back a breaking scream.