Page 26 of Sinful Obsession (Broken Vows #3)

CHARLOTTE

Cassian’s piercing blue eyes that haunted my dreams, locked onto mine, his voice low and certain.

“That boy... he looks like me.”

My heart pounded, fear and fury warring in my chest.

“Cassian, go back to the States,” I snapped, my voice sharp.

“You sent me away like an animal, remember? So why the fuck are you here now? I’m running out of patience, and this isn’t Chicago where you’ve got every cop in your pocket. I could call the police right now.”

He didn’t flinch, his gaze sweeping the living room.

He stood, moving toward a small toy truck on the coffee table, picking it up with a reverence that made my stomach twist.

He turned it over in his hands, then looked at me, his voice steady but heavy. “You have kids now, Charlotte.”

“Ethan’s kids,” I lied, the words bitter on my tongue, desperate to keep my twins from his grasp.

He smirked, a dark, knowing curve of his lips.

“No. I think they’re mine.” He paused, his eyes narrowing as he sank back onto the couch, deep in thought.

“I found out Ethan had a low sperm count—practically infertile. The chances of him fathering a child are next to zero. That ‘daughter’ he claimed? Not his. His ex-girlfriend lied to bleed him for child support.”

My breath caught, my lie crumbling under his scrutiny.

He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “I need to perform a DNA test on your kids to be sure they’re mine.”

“I don’t need you to be sure of anything,” I hissed, stepping closer, my fists clenched. “Hell, I don’t need you at all.”

“If I have kids, it’s my right to be in their lives,” he said, standing now, towering over me with that commanding presence that once made me weak. “Take me to them, Charlotte, so I can get a DNA sample.”

“You think you can waltz in here and control my life again?” I shot back, my voice trembling with rage. “You still think you own me, huh?”

“I should at least have a say in my kids’ lives,” he growled, his eyes burning with intensity. “Take me to them. Now.”

I stared at him, my mind racing.

He wasn’t going to leave, not without answers.

I needed him out of my house, away from the traces of Aria and Asher.

“Okay,” I said, nodding slowly, my voice cold. “Follow me.”

I walked out, my heart hammering, and he followed, his boots heavy on the wooden floor.

Outside, he pointed to a sleek black Bentley parked by the curb. “I brought a car,” he said, opening the passenger door for me.

I slid in.

“Where to?” he asked, starting the ignition with a low rumble.

I gave him an address, one I’d memorized for this exact moment, my voice steady despite the lie forming in my mind.

He punched it into the GPS, his fingers swift, and pulled into traffic.

As he drove, his gaze flicked to me, his voice raw with something like regret. “If those kids are mine... I’ll never forgive myself for sending you away, Charlotte.”

I looked out the window, refusing to meet his eyes.

“You don’t get to regret it now,” I said, my voice tight. “Being a single mother isn’t for the weak. You have no idea what I went through.”

The drive felt endless.

We arrived at a quiet, overgrown cemetery on the city’s outskirts.

Cassian parked, stepping out with a frown, and I led him through the grass, my heart pounding as I stopped before two small, unmarked graves, their stones weathered and bare.

He stood beside me.

“What is this?” he asked, his voice uncertain.

“This is where I buried my twin,” I lied, my voice steady.

“One had a weak heart—it gave out before she even turned three. The other developed something worse, a shadow in her lungs that spread too fast. I lost them both before I could even try to save them.”

I looked down, swallowing hard. “It hurts. Every day, it hurts.”

Cassian’s face went still, carved from stone, but his eyes searched the graves as if they might confess what my lips wouldn’t. His voice cracked when he finally spoke.

“Did they look like me?” A pause. “Did they... know about me?”

I forced myself to hold his gaze, steady, even as my chest burned.

“Yes.” The word cut like glass. “I told them their father cast me out like filth. And yes, they both had your eyes.”

His fists clenched, knuckles white, regret etched into every line of his face. “I fucked up. Again.” He grabbed my arms gently, his touch electric despite my anger. “Charlotte, I’m so sorry.”

I smirked, pulling away. “Sorry? That’s all you’ve got?”

“I know apologies can’t undo what I did,” he said, his voice raw, his blue eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“But I didn’t send you away because I thought you carried another man’s child. I was facing a fourth surgery three months later—cancer, they said, less than a ten percent chance of survival. I was sure I’d die. I wanted you free, Charlotte, free from my world, my chains.”

I swallowed hard, his words slicing through me. “I was pregnant with your child, Cassian, and you wouldn’t even believe me.”

“The logic didn’t add up,” he exhaled shakily.

“No man would’ve believed it. But I was wrong not to give you a chance. From the moment you left, I had nine bodyguards watching you in secret. Your father, Luca, Artem—they tried to find you, but I made sure they couldn’t. How do you think you made it out of the States without being stopped?”

My breath hitched, shock mingling with anger.

“So I’m supposed to forgive you because your reasons were noble?

” I snapped. “You sent me away, Cassian. No excuse changes that. I was pregnant, alone, with no one to lean on. My back ached every night, no one to rub it. Morning sickness that lasted all day, no one to bring me water. Labor pains for hours, screaming in a hospital with strangers, no family to hold my hand. The twins—God, they were so heavy, pressing on my spine, kicking until I couldn’t sleep.

And after, raising them alone, every fever, every tear, every moment I thought I’d break. You weren’t there.”

“And they died,” I added, the lie bitter but necessary, “and I watched them slip away, helpless. You come here now, asking for forgiveness? We’re not destined to be together, Cassian. Six years is long enough to move on.”

“Have you?” he asked, his voice sharp, eyes flicking back to the graves. “With that man who dropped you off?”

“Have you slept with another woman since you threw me out like trash?” I shot back, turning his question against him.

“No,” he said, his voice fierce. “You’re the last woman I’ll ever touch, Charlotte.”

His words hit like a wave, stirring the love I’d buried deep.

I pushed it down, stepping away.

“Marry me, Charlotte,” he said, his voice a plea as we walked back to the car. “I’ll leave everything in New York—my empire, my name—and come here for you.”

“I can’t be with you again, let alone marry you,” I said, climbing into the passenger seat, my heart heavy. “And no, that man wasn’t my lover. He’s just my boss, Viktor Kuznetsov.”

Cassian nodded, his jaw tight as he started the engine. “I see.”

“Drop me off at work,” I said, giving him the address for Aurora Designs.

He drove in silence, the city flashing by, my mind a tangle of pain and resolve.

“So, are you leaving Russia soon?” I asked, my voice sharp.

Cassian’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.

“My life’s meaningless without you, Charlotte,” he said, his voice raw with that obsessive intensity that used to make my knees weak.

“So, no, I’m staying here until... until I force destiny to put us back together.

I still fucking love you, and I will until my last breath. ”

“Your last breath?” I snapped, my tone biting.

“I’m not dying anytime soon,” he said, his blue eyes flicking to me briefly. “I’m fine now.”

I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “I can’t believe a word you say, Cassian. Six years ago, you swore you were fine, too. If you really loved me, why couldn’t you tell me about your health? You think I’m too weak to handle it?”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” he cut in.

“You just didn’t trust me,” I countered, turning to face him. “You thought it’d make you look weak. Newsflash, Cassian— every adult has health challenges. Some are just louder than others. So, for once, tell me the truth. Are you really dying?”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he stared at the road. “The cancer... it’s relentless,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a clinical tone, as if distancing himself from the reality.

“Five surgeries over the years, each time excising malignant tumors from my lymphatic system. Chemotherapy, radiation, targeted inhibitors—they slow it down, but it always recurs, metastasizing faster than before. Recovery takes twelve months, minimum, if I’m lucky.

Right now, I’m in remission, but scans last month showed potential new growths. I won’t know until the next biopsy.”

I swallowed hard, his words sinking in, a mix of pity and anger stirring in my chest.

“I’m sorry you keep going through this,” I said quietly, my gaze dropping to my hands.

I’d had one breast surgery years ago, a lumpectomy to remove a benign mass, and since then, I’d been healthy—no recurrence, no complications.

But the loss of my breast had left scars, not just physical. I’d considered implants, artificial curves to fill the void, but every time, I’d backed away.

I hated anything fake now—fake promises, fake lives. I’d learned to accept my flat chest, my body as it was, scars and all. It was mine, and that was enough.

Cassian pulled over in front of Aurora Designs.

“Charlotte, you still have money, right?” he asked, his voice softer, almost concerned.

“I’ve got a little over six million left,” I said, meeting his gaze briefly. “It was more than enough. I work because I want to—not because I have to.”

He nodded, his eyes lingering on me, searching for something I wasn’t willing to give.

I was about to step out when I paused, turning back to him.

Looking at him was like staring at Asher—same sharp jaw, same piercing blue eyes, a mirror of the son he’d never know.

The thought twisted in my gut, a pang of what could’ve been.

If he knew his kids were alive, he’d fight for them, drag us back into his world of blood and power. But they deserved better—peace, safety, a life free of his shadow.

“I’m really sorry about your health,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

“Don’t pity me,” he snapped, pride flaring in his eyes.

“It’s not a curse to feel for someone,” I said, sighing. “You’re human, Cassian, not a god. Goodbye.” I stepped out, the cold air hitting my face as I walked toward the office, my heart heavy with the lie I’d told and the truth I’d hidden.

Inside, I barely reached my desk, my sketchpad open to a half-finished gown design, when a shadow loomed in the corner.

I flinched, my breath catching as I saw Viktor Kuznetsov leaning against the wall, his pockmarked face and beady eyes watching me with that unsettling intensity.

“Mr. Kuznetsov, why are you there?” I asked, my voice tight, irritation masking my unease.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you,” he said, his Russian accent thick, a smug grin spreading across his face. “That man you were with—I think he’s dangerous. I took a photo of him and sent it to the police for investigation.”

My blood boiled, and I stepped closer, fists clenched.

“What? That’s none of your business! I told you he’s family. Why are you poking into my life?”

“I don’t want you hurt,” he said, his tone softening, but his eyes gleamed with something that made my skin crawl.

I laughed, sharp and bitter. “You think I can’t protect myself? You’re my boss, Viktor, not my keeper. Why are you acting like you’re more?”

He took a step forward, too close, his cologne overpowering, his bulk looming.

“Because I want to be more, Charlotte,” he said, his voice low, earnest in a way that felt wrong.

“I want us together. I’m single, you’re single.

In the five years you’ve worked here, I’ve never seen a man with you.

I was too slow to say it, but I want you—as my woman, my wife even.

That man today, he’s your ex, isn’t he? Trying to crawl back into your life. ”

My stomach churned, disgust rising at his audacity.

Viktor, with his brutish face and greedy eyes, thought he could claim me? “I’m not interested,” I said, my voice cold, stepping back to put distance between us. “And let this be the last time you meddle in my personal life. Now, please leave.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping, but his eyes didn’t lose that predatory glint. “Think about it,” he said, lingering a moment before turning and walking out, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hall.

I sank into my chair, my hands trembling as I gripped my sketchpad.

Viktor’s words, Cassian’s presence, the lie about the twins—it was all too much.

My life, so carefully built, felt like it was unraveling.