Page 14 of Sinful Obsession (Broken Vows #3)
“Then, a year later, I got a lead,” he said, stopping to face me, his blue eyes haunted. “A friend of yours—Ethan—had you in his house. When I found him, you were there, alive but... changed.”
“Ethan?” I asked, my voice trembling, the name a spark in the fog. “Who is he?”
A shadow crossed his face. “He was your friend, someone you trusted. He’s gone now, back to his family in Chicago. I made sure of it.” His tone held a possessive edge.
I nodded, my mind racing, already plotting ways to find this Ethan.
If he’d sheltered me, he might be one of the few I could trust—unlike Luca, Artem, my father, or even Vincent, my younger brother, whose call had stirred a vague sense of betrayal.
“So... how was I kidnapped?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Cassian’s eyes darkened, his hands clenching into fists.
“After you left me, your father and my brother, Luca, moved against you. They had you kidnapped, locked in a psych ward. They pumped you full of drugs—sedatives, hallucinogens—until you were seeing shadows that weren’t there, hearing voices that didn’t exist. They broke you, Charlotte, to keep you from me, from your legacy. ”
My breath caught, my vision blurring as I pressed a hand to my stomach, hiding the tremor.
A psych ward?
Drugged?
“And Ethan?” I asked, my voice shaking. “How did he find me?”
“He tracked you down before I could,” Cassian said, his voice bitter.
“He pulled you out, hid you in his house. When I found you, you were... damaged. From what I’d done to you in our marriage, from what they did in that ward.
I tried to win you back, Charlotte. I did everything—flowers, apologies, promises to change—but you were too far gone.
You asked for a divorce, said it was the only way to heal.
I granted it, hoping we could start fresh. ”
“But you wanted more. You demanded to leave New York, to start over in a new city. You were self-harming—cutting, starving yourself. I was terrified I’d wake up to find you’d taken your life. I tried to keep you, begged you to stay, but your mind was set. You said a fresh start would save you.”
“So you let me go?” I asked, my voice barely audible, my chest tight with the weight of his story.
“I did,” he said, his voice heavy with regret.
He pulled a chair forward, its legs scraping the floor, and sat facing me, his blue eyes raw. “But not entirely. The day you left, I got on a plane. Tracked you. Followed you to the city you moved to.”
“I watched you from the shadows—cameras in your apartment, bugs in your phone, a telescope from the building across the street. I hacked your emails, trailed you to coffee shops, stood outside your window at night, watching you sleep.”
His voice was low, confessional, but the creepiness of his obsession sent a chill down my spine. “For two months, I lived in your shadow, Charlotte. You were... alive again. Making friends—women, never men, keeping your promise to me. You were healing, and I was happy, even from a distance.
A shiver tore through me. “You stalked me.”
He didn’t flinch. “I protected you. I counted down the months until you swore you’d come back to me.” His voice broke for the first time. “But then I got the call. My sister was kidnapped. And she’s all I have left, my only family.
“Elodie...” I whispered.
“Yes. I went back to New York to tear the city apart for her. I shouldn’t have left you. Because the very day I stopped watching, you vanished. Kidnapped.”
My heart hammered. “I was taken that same day?” I asked, my breath catching, the nightmare’s masked man flashing in my mind.
Cassian’s gaze sharpened. “Yes.”
“Whoever it was, they were close. Close enough to take you from under my nose. I’ve gutted my enemies one by one, but I’ll find the one who dared touch you. I swear it.”
His words pressed on me like a vice. I tried to form pictures, flashes, anything to bridge the empty black years in my mind. But nothing came.
His story—our story—remained just that: words. And I was left staring at him, desperate for memory, while he looked at me like he already owned every piece of me I’d lost.
I looked down at the faint burn of the ring still etched into my fingers, my voice trembling. “Was my dream a memory?” I asked, my voice trembling, the nightmare’s chill lingering in my bones. “The boat, the masked man—was that part of the years I lost?”
“Could be.” His answer was flat.
His gaze pinned me like he was dissecting me.
“Your captor wasn’t your father. Wasn’t Luca.
He’s a ghost. A man clever enough to make the world believe you were dead, while he kept you hidden for three years.
.. then dumped you in your grandfather’s house like you were nothing more than discarded evidence. I still don’t understand his motive.”
My breath caught, my mind clicking into place.
No wonder I’d woken up in Grandfather’s cabin, disoriented, with no memory of how I’d arrived.
The realization hit like a blade. “What if... what if it wasn’t an accident? What if my memory loss was calculated? Like he stole those years from me on purpose?”
Cassian’s jaw flexed, sharp enough to cut glass. “it’s clear.” He said, his voice flat but laced with suppressed rage. “He erased your past, Charlotte. Deliberately.”
My stomach dropped. “Why? What does he want with me?”
“I don’t know.” His voice was a blade. “But when I find him, I’ll make him pay for every second of pain he caused you.”
I stared at him, confusion battling anger. “You’ll make him pay?” I asked, my voice sharp. “You hate me—you think I killed Elodie. Why would you care about my pain? And how do you know he hurt me?”
Cassian’s gaze burned into mine. “He sent me footage,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
“Videos of you—tortured, broken, screaming. I’ll kill him, Charlotte, not because I’ve forgiven you, but because he dared touch what’s mine.
He used Elodie’s kidnapping to distract me, then took you.
I’ll find him, and I’ll end him—slowly.” He swore under his breath, his words a vow etched in venom.
My throat went dry. “Show me. The footage. I want to see it.”
His stare didn’t waver. “No. They’re too vile.”
“But it already happened.” My voice cracked. “What difference does it make if I see? Did he—” I swallowed hard. “Did he rape me?”
Silence.
His eyes locked on mine. Expressionless. That was my answer—silence louder than words.
Finally, his voice cut through the air, merciless. “The doctor we met earlier will help you recover your memories,” he said finally, his voice evasive.
“He will guide you—therapy, tests, whatever it takes. But I can’t tell you more about your past, not now. If you want answers, you’ll get them. But not from me.”
A wave of panic surged.
“Why not?” I demanded, my voice breaking, fear and frustration boiling over.
“And how long, Cassian? How long do you plan to keep me your prisoner?”
His lips curved into something almost cruel. “Until I drag that ghost into the ground. Six feet under. Until then, you’ll stay under my roof—because if I let you out of my sight, he will take you again.”
I shook my head. “No. He’s done with me. No one could save me before, and then he just... let me go. If he wanted me, he’d have kept me. What makes you think he’ll still come?”
Cassian leaned forward, his voice like steel. “Men like him don’t let go. They play games. And you—” his gaze pinned me, “you’re still on the board.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“And even if you’re right about him, what about Luca?
Your father? Artem?” His voice cut through my defiance.
“They’re circling, Charlotte. Luca wants revenge for his eye—I stabbed him because of you.
And he’s always been obsessed with you. He wants you as his wife before December so your grandfather’s gold and vaults transfer to him.
“Your father wants control of you, so he can claim your share for himself.
“And Artem? He’s desperate to make himself the head of the five New York families. That position would give him leverage against me. All he has to do is use you as my weakness, and I’d be forced to pull out of the race.
“You are the key to every one of them. You’re not safe anywhere—not in the House of Devils, not on your own. Only with me.”
His verdict fell like a gavel.
“So you’ll remain here. Under my roof. Under my watch, until every threat is neutralized,” he said. “You’ll serve your punishment for Elodie’s death, but tonight...” His gaze lingered, softer for a fleeting second. “Tonight, I’ll let it pass because of your nightmare.”
At last he stood, dragging his chair back toward his desk, his back to me.
His voice dropped like a blade. “Don’t mistake mercy for forgiveness.”