Page 17 of Sinful Obsession (Broken Vows #3)

CHARLOTTE

I scanned the grounds for any sign of Ethan’s promised delivery, half-expecting nothing but disappointment.

Then, my eyes caught on something peculiar—an envelope, its crisp white edge tucked into the vibrant petals of a rosebush in the courtyard opposite the house.

My pulse quickened as I crossed the gravel path, the crunch of stones under my feet unnervingly loud in the silence.

I glanced over my shoulder, half-convinced Cassian’s watchful eyes—or worse, his cameras—were tracking my every move.

I plucked the envelope free, its weight surprisingly heavy in my hand, and tucked it behind my back, shielding it from any prying lenses as I hurried inside.

I didn’t dare open it in the open. Instead, I slipped through the mansion’s labyrinthine halls to the old library at the back of the house.

The lack of modern fixtures made it the one place I felt reasonably sure was free of Cassian’s surveillance.

My fingers trembled as I tore open the envelope, its wax seal crumbling under my touch like an ancient relic.

Inside was a sleek burner phone, its screen dark.

A genuine smile broke across my face, a flicker of hope in the suffocating darkness of my captivity.

Ethan had done it.

Tucked beside the phone were three pregnancy test kits, their sterile packaging gleaming.

My smile faltered, replaced by a cold knot of dread in my stomach.

The nausea, the dizziness, the morning sickness—they’d plagued me again today, each symptom a whisper of a truth I wasn’t ready to face.

I powered on the phone, my hands shaking as I dialed the only number programmed into it. Ethan’s voice came through instantly, warm but edged with tension. “Charlotte?”

“I got it,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

He exhaled. “God, I risked everything to get that to you. If Cassian had found it before you did, my entire family would be done for.”

My throat tightened at the weight of his sacrifice. “I’m so sorry, Ethan. I didn’t realize—”

“It’s fine,” he cut in, his tone firm but kind. “Just be careful with that phone. I’ve encrypted it with every tech trick I know to keep it undetectable, but you need a safe place to hide it.”

“I will,” I promised, glancing around the library’s shadowed corners. “Ethan... what if I’m pregnant?”

A long pause stretched between us, heavy with unspoken fears.

Then, the call switched to video, and his face filled the screen—sharp jawline, tousled dark hair, and those familiar eyes.

My breath caught as a memory slammed into me: Ethan, the scrawny kid from high school, always hunched under the weight of bullies’ taunts until I stepped in to shield him.

My fractured memory was a cruel puzzle, pieces locked away until something—or someone—jarred them loose.

It was the same with my mother, my brother, even my father, whose face only resurfaced when Cassian dragged me to that mafia meeting days ago.

Whoever had stolen three years of my life was a monster, but I’d claw my way back, no matter how long it took.

“Charlotte, can you hear me?” Ethan’s voice snapped me back, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, my cheeks flushing. “I got lost in my head.”

“I was saying, if you’re pregnant, Cassian might not react as badly as you think. He... he might still love you.”

I scoffed, the sound bitter. “Love me? Maybe once, but not now. He thinks I killed his sister, Ethan. He’s planning to punish me, and I don’t know what that looks like, but I know it’ll be cruel. And if I’m pregnant...” I swallowed hard, the words tasting like ash.

“Cassian and I haven’t been intimate since I woke up in my grandfather’s cabin last December, abandoned by whoever took me. If there’s a baby, it’s not his. It could be... it could be from someone who...” I couldn’t finish, the thought of violation too horrific to voice.

Ethan’s face paled on the screen, his jaw tightening. “That’s... complicated.”

“Exactly,” I said, my voice trembling. “If Cassian finds out I’m carrying another man’s child, his hatred will destroy me.”

“Let’s hope you’re not pregnant,” Ethan said firmly. “Do the test and let me know. If you are, I’m getting you out of there, no matter what it takes.”

My chest ached with gratitude, but another thought surfaced. “There’s something else. I told you about the House of Devils, that underground mafia competition...”

“I disguised myself as a man to join, to win enough power and money to claim my inheritance without marrying one of the Morettis.”

“My grandfather’s deal with their patriarch tied my inheritance to a Moretti marriage. But if I win the competition, I can strip my father of his title as Don and take revenge for what he did to me and grandfather.”

Ethan’s eyes widened. “An underground mafia competition? That sounds insane.”

“It is,” I said. “It’s a secret even among the clans. Male heirs fight for a chance at unimaginable wealth, gold, and a badge that commands respect across every mafia family in the world. But it’s brutal—death is the only way out if you don’t win.”

“Vincent’s too much of a coward to try, but I risked everything. Cassian found me there, pulled me out, and brought me here against my will. If I could get back in...”

“I’ll look into it,” Ethan promised, his voice resolute. “But you know Cassian will come for you again.”

“Not if I make sure he can’t,” I said, my voice hard with determination.

Ethan nodded, but before he could reply, a faint creak echoed from the hallway, like a door settling in its frame.

My heart leapt into my throat. “I have to go,” I whispered, ending the call with trembling fingers. I shoved the burner phone and two of the pregnancy tests into a hollowed-out book on the library shelf, grabbing the third test as I slipped out of the room.

I moved quickly, my pulse pounding as I headed for the guest bathroom on the second floor, far from the bedroom I shared with Cassian.

The hallway was dim.

At the bathroom door, I paused, peeking around the frame to ensure I was alone.

The room was small, tiled in cold white, with a single frosted window casting muted light.

I locked the door behind me, my hands shaking as I tore open the test kit.

The instructions blurred before my eyes, but I knew the drill. I crouched over the toilet, the plastic stick awkward in my grip, and waited, my breath shallow.

The seconds stretched into eternity.

When I finally glanced at the test, my world tilted.

Two bold red lines stared back at me, undeniable and merciless.

Pregnant.

My knees buckled, and I sank to the floor, the test slipping from my hand to clatter against the tiles.

My heart thundered, a deafening roar in my ears as the truth sank in: I was carrying a child, and it wasn’t Cassian’s.

It could only be the result of something done to me during those lost months, by someone whose face I couldn’t recall.

Nausea surged, not from the pregnancy but from the violation, the powerlessness, the horror of it all.

“What are you doing in there?” Cassian’s voice sliced through the door, suspicious.

I scrambled to my feet, shoving the test into the toilet and flushing it with a desperate jab.

The water swirled, carrying the evidence away as I adjusted my clothes and unlocked the door.

Stepping out, I met his gaze, his dark eyes narrowing as they studied me.

“Why are you looking for me?” I asked, forcing defiance into my voice to mask the panic clawing at my chest.

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, like a storm about to break.

“You’ve been acting strange.” His hand reached out, tilting my chin up as his thumb brushed beneath my eye, checking for signs of distress like a doctor assessing a patient. “I’m having the doctor run a full panel on you.”

“That’s not necessary,” I said, jerking away and brushing past him, my heart racing. “I’m fine.”

But he wasn’t done. As I reached the master bedroom, the door creaked open behind me, and I turned to find him standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable but heavy with intent.

“You’ve been hiding something,” he said, his voice low. “And I don’t tolerate secrets, Charlotte.”

Before I could respond, he crossed the room and gestured to a chair in the corner, its high back and leather upholstery giving it an almost throne-like menace.

“Sit,” he commanded.

My stomach twisted, but I obeyed, sinking into the chair as he loomed over me.

From a drawer, he produced a small, ornate box, its surface engraved with intricate patterns that seemed to pulse in the dim light.

He opened it, revealing a delicate silver bracelet, its surface etched with faint, cryptic symbols. “This,” he said, his voice cold, “is your first punishment.”

I frowned, confusion warring with fear. “A bracelet?”

“It’s not just a bracelet,” he said, fastening it around my wrist.

The metal was cold, biting into my skin, and a faint hum emanated from it, like a heartbeat just out of sync with my own.

“It’s a monitor. It tracks your every move, your heart rate, your stress levels. If you lie, if you hide anything from me, I’ll know. And if you try to remove it, it’ll send an alert to me—and to others who’d be very interested in your whereabouts.”

My breath caught as the implications sank in.

This wasn’t just surveillance; it was control, a psychological leash designed to strip away my autonomy.

My hand trembled as I touched the bracelet, its weight a constant reminder of my captivity.

And worse, it could detect changes in my body—changes like a pregnancy.

If Cassian found out, if he realized the child wasn’t his, the consequences would be unimaginable.

“You think I killed your sister,” I said, my voice shaking but defiant. “Why go through all this? Why not just... end it?”

His eyes darkened, a storm of emotions flickering across his face—anger, pain, something softer I couldn’t name.

“Because I need to know the truth,” he said. “And until I do, you’re mine to watch, mine to protect, mine to punish.”

He turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.