Page 27 of Sinful Obsession (Broken Vows #3)
CHARLOTTE
The evening wrapped the house in a quiet cocoon.
I’d picked Asher and Aria up from kindergarten.
Now, the kitchen was warm with the aroma of chicken kiev, its golden crust glistening beside creamy mashed potatoes— one of their favorites.
I served their plates, ruffling Asher’s hair as he reached for a fork, and ensured Aria ate before retreating to my bedroom, exhaustion tugging at my bones.
I’d barely collapsed onto the bed when my phone buzzed on the nightstand.
The screen lit up with an unfamiliar number, but my gut twisted with certainty: Cassian.
His persistence was relentless.
I stared at the glowing digits, my thumb hovering over the decline button.
Let him call.
I wasn’t ready to face him. I silenced the phone and let sleep pull me under, a merciful escape.
Morning sunlight slipped through the curtains, pulling me out of sleep.
I reached for my phone, and my stomach dropped when I saw the screen: 109 missed calls.
My mouth fell open.
Had he even slept at all?
The endless calls said more than words could—Cassian Moretti wasn’t the kind of man who let go, and this was proof of it. His obsession clung to me like a shadow.
I pushed the dread aside and forced myself into the rhythm of the morning.
Breakfast for the twins, their cheerful voices filling the kitchen as they argued about which cartoon character was better. Then the drive to kindergarten, their little hands waving excitedly from the car window while I smiled back, hiding the storm inside me.
Work should have been my escape, but as soon as I walked into the office, the normal steady hum of typing and phone calls was gone.
In its place was restless chatter. Small groups of staff huddled together, whispering, papers stacked untouched on desks, half-drunk coffee cups going cold.
The disorder scraped against my nerves.
Usually, I kept to myself here.
My twins were the only ones who truly knew me. But today curiosity pulled me toward Jenna, one of the few coworkers I could stand. She was a bright-eyed marketing assistant, always quick with gossip and never without a story to tell.
“What’s going on?” I asked, keeping my voice low. “Shouldn’t everyone be prepping for the day?”
Jenna leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “A new buyer just took over the company. We’ve got a new boss—new CEO, actually.”
My stomach dropped.
Five years I’d worked here, climbing the ranks in project management, watching the company rake in profits.
Why would the owner sell now?
Before I could press further, a commotion erupted behind me.
I turned to see Viktor, my department head, striding forward alongside the COO, Margaret Hensley, and the CFO, David Ruiz. Their faces were tight, professional masks barely concealing unease.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Margaret began, her voice cutting through the murmurs. “As detailed in the email sent this morning, we have a new owner and CEO. Please welcome Mr. Cassian Moretti.”
The world tilted.
The air left my lungs.
No. No, it couldn’t be—
My eyes locked on the figure stepping forward, and there he was—Cassian, in a tailored black suit that hugged his broad shoulders, the fabric catching the light with a subtle sheen.
His dark hair was swept back, accentuating the sharp angles of his face, and his eyes, those piercing blue eyes, radiated power and danger.
A silver watch gleamed at his wrist, and his posture—commanding, unyielding—made the room feel smaller, as if he owned every inch of it.
“Oh my God, he’s gorgeous!” Jenna squealed beside me, her voice barely hushed.
“Look at that jawline,” whispered Sarah from accounting, fanning herself dramatically. “I’d let him ruin my life.”
“Tall, hot, and probably loaded,” added Mia from HR, giggling. “I’m volunteering for overtime in his office.”
Their chatter grated, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from Cassian.
His gaze found mine, and a slow, predatory smirk curled his lips, sending a shiver down my spine.
He addressed the room, his voice smooth and authoritative, outlining vague plans for “growth” and “efficiency” before dismissing us with a wave.
The staff dispersed, buzzing with excitement, but I stood frozen, my mind racing.
He’d bought the company I worked for?
Why?
What game was he playing?
I tried to focus on my tasks, but my hands trembled as I sorted through project files.
An hour later, the internal phone on my desk rang, Margaret’s voice crisp on the line. “Charlotte, report to the CEO’s office. Now.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I hung up, my fingers lingering on the receiver as dread coiled in my gut.
Standing, I smoothed my blouse, forcing composure into my posture despite the panic screaming inside me.
The walk to the top floor felt endless, each step echoing in the sterile hallway.
At the CEO’s office door, a polished mahogany slab with “Cassian Moretti” already etched on a nameplate, I paused.
My hand shook as I gripped the handle, the cold metal grounding me for a moment before I pushed the door open.
Cassian sat behind a massive desk, the city skyline sprawling through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him.
He looked every bit the king, leaning back in his leather chair, one hand resting on a stack of files, the other tapping a pen with deliberate rhythm.
“Charlotte,” he said, his voice low and laced with amusement. “Close the door.”
I stepped inside, letting the door click shut, and dropped all pretense. “Cassian, what the hell are you doing?”
He leaned forward, elbows on the desk, his smirk widening. “Showing you that with money, you can have anything you want.”
I dragged the chair opposite him back and sat, crossing my arms. “Okay, boss . I’m here. What do you want?”
His expression darkened. “I had someone investigate the grave you claimed the kids were buried in. It was a lie, Charlotte. Two elderly people, not children. Why are you hiding the truth?”
My blood ran cold.
I’d never expected him to dig that deep, to question the story I’d spun to keep Asher and Aria safe from his world.
“You’re everywhere, Cassian,” I snapped, leaning forward. “You’re suffocating me, mentally and emotionally. I hate you for this.”
His jaw tightened, but his gaze softened, just for a moment. “Where are my kids?”
“Your kids?” I scoffed, my voice sharp with defiance. “You don’t even know if they’re yours.”
“Don’t tell me they’re with another man,” he growled. “You know what I’m capable of.”
I held his stare. “Is there anything work-related you called me for? Or are you just here to play detective?”
“You’ll speak to your boss with respect,” he said, his tone icy.
I laughed bitterly, standing so fast the chair scraped against the floor. “Respect? I’ve got millions in my account, Cassian. I don’t need this job—or you. I’m resigning.”
“Charlotte!” he called as I stormed toward the door, his voice sharp, then softer. “Charlotte, wait.”
I didn’t look back, my pulse thundering as I returned to my desk.
The job had been my anchor, a slice of normalcy amidst the chaos of my life, but with Cassian as CEO, that joy would curdle into dread.
I opened my laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as I drafted my resignation letter, each word a release of pent-up fury.
I printed it, the paper crisp in my hands, and marched to Viktor’s office, the protocol for resignations.
Viktor looked up from his cluttered desk, surprise flickering across his boyish features. “Charlotte, what’s this?”
I slid the letter across his desk. “My resignation. I can’t stay here.”
He scanned the letter, his brow furrowing. “Is this because your ex is the new boss?”
I stiffened, caught off guard. “I never said he was my ex. But yes, Cassian Moretti is why I’m leaving. I can’t work under him.”
Viktor leaned back, sighing. “Babe, we’ve got multiple high-stakes projects—your team’s leading three of them. If you leave now, it’ll be chaos. No one can pick up your work midstream.”
Before I could respond, the door swung open, and Cassian’s presence filled the room like a storm cloud.
My heart sank, my fingers curling into fists.
He glanced at the letter on Viktor’s desk, his expression unreadable. “What’s this about resigning?”
Viktor hesitated, then gestured to the letter.
“Charlotte’s stepping down, sir. But per her employment contract, section 4.
2, the company reserves the right to delay acceptance of a resignation for up to nine months to ensure project continuity and knowledge transfer.
After that period, the resignation is automatically valid. ”
I clenched my fists, rage simmering beneath my skin. Trapped again—by paperwork, of all things. “That’s ridiculous,” I snapped. “I’m done here.”
Cassian’s eyes flicked to Viktor, his voice sharp. “And why are you calling her ‘babe,’ Viktor?”
Viktor paled, stammering. “Sir, I—It was a slip. And about our first meeting... I owe you an apology. I was only looking out for Charlotte—the way I do for all my staff.”
Cassian’s gaze darkened, pinning Viktor like a predator. “Or you have feelings for her.”
Viktor shook his head, then froze, his shoulders slumping. “Fine, sir. I do have feelings for her. I can’t control that. And it’s clear you do too, but she’s obviously not into you anymore.”
I stood frozen, caught between Viktor’s reckless confession and Cassian’s barely restrained fury.
Who the hell gave Viktor the audacity to challenge a man like Cassian Moretti?
He might think Cassian was just some polished billionaire CEO, but I’d seen the truth—Cassian was a mafia kingpin, his hands stained with blood, his power absolute.
Men like him didn’t negotiate; they eradicated.
Cassian stalked to Viktor’s desk, his movements deliberate.
His gaze swept over the cluttered files, spreadsheets pinned under coffee mugs, and half-finished proposals—Viktor’s fifteen years of work laid bare.
The company relied on him; his client relationships were its backbone. Any rational leader would see his value. But Cassian wasn’t rational, not when it came to me.