Page 115 of Cruel Deception
“Are you staying?” I asked, almost desperate.
“For now,” she said with a smile. “You’re not alone.”
“Cassian planned to keep me chained forever,” I murmured.
“No. He won’t.”
I looked at her, eyes red, swollen. “Why?”
She stood, offering me a hand. “Come. Let’s go for a walk. Just a few minutes of fresh air.”
“He listens to you?”
“Not really,” she said, amused. “But he has not been himself since yesterday.”
“What do you mean?”
She hesitated. “I mean... something’s wrong. I came to see him this morning and found two empty bottles of alcohol on his desk.”
I blinked. “He doesn’t drink?”
“Never. Not once in all these years. That’s how I knew what happened with you broke something in him.”
My chest constricted.
She led me outside the mansion walls, through a short paved path to a surprisingly open garden space. In the middle was a small recreation area—a ping pong table, some seating, a few benches. Men were playing, laughter echoing softly. But when they saw us—two women, me in a clean dress, Elodie in her confident posture—they looked like wolves scenting something vulnerable.
I tensed, but Elodie looped her arm around mine. “Ignore them. They don’t have the balls to touch you while I’m here.”
“I didn’t know a place like this even existed here.”
“It does. I come here every time I visit him. It’s kind of my secret escape.”
“You’re still in school?” I asked, reading between the lines.
“University. Last year.”
God, I hoped her holiday would last longer.
We sat on the benches, watching the men play.
“You think he regrets it?” I asked. “What he did to me?”
She hesitated. “He didn’t say it, no. Cassian doesn’t open up to anyone anymore. But I know him. The alcohol... the way he sat in silence when I entered. He’s not okay.”
I scoffed, bitter. “That man has no heart.”
She smiled faintly. “He does. It’s just buried under too much pain.”
She looked over at me with a crooked smile, her tone light. “You really don’t know anything about your husband, do you?
I swallowed, shame stinging like salt in a wound. “Honestly? Our marriage has been nothing but hell.”
Elodie shrugged lightly, as if that wasn’t a surprise. “So... you planning to leave him one day?” she asked, already fishing a slim cigarette from her small leather pouch.
“You smoke?” I asked, caught off guard as she flicked the lighter and took a slow drag, like she’d done it a thousand times before.
“Who doesn’t?” she said with a smirk, offering me the cigarette.
