Page 85 of Sinful Obsession

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. Ihateyou 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.”