Page 130 of Cruel Deception
I looked up. Cassian had finished his call and dropped the phone on the floor beside his chair. He looked... drained. But I didn’t care. Not in that moment.
I crossed the room, my bare feet soundless against the marble.
Then his phone buzzed again.
I bent down and picked it up.
And what I saw shattered something inside me.
Unknown:Please come tonight. I’ve missed you. You can go back to her after we’re done.
No prior messages. He’d deleted the thread.
My blood ran cold.
Tears stung my eyes, but it was the burn in my chest that made me stumble back. Rage. Grief. A betrayal too deep for words.
I snatched the whiskey bottle off his table and hurled it at the wall.
It shattered on impact, shards scattering like the last thread of my patience, the sharp scent of liquor filling the room—raw, reckless, like the fury in my chest.
“You chained me,” I said, my voice trembling, thick with hurt. “You mocked my scars. You broke me—slowly, deliberately, piece by piece, in the dark.”
My hand shot toward the phone, the screen still glowing like a curse.
“But this?” My voice cracked. “Cheating on me, Cassian? You can shatter me a thousand ways, but this? This, I will never forgive.”
He stilled.
His eyes lit up—blazing, wild, furious.
“Who the fuck is cheating?” he roared, stalking forward like thunder on legs. “And why the hell are you wrecking my study like a lunatic?”
“Then what the fuck is this?” I screamed back, hurling the phone toward him. “Who’s begging you to come tonight? Who’s waiting for you to finish with me so you can go back to her?”
Before I could breathe—before I could blink—he moved.
Fast. Brutal.
He lunged, ripped the phone from my hand, and slammed me against the wall so hard the picture frames rattled.
His hand wrapped around my throat—not tight, not bruising, but enough to steal breath, enough to remind me exactly who he was.
His cedar scent flooded my senses, all sharp spice and danger.
“Who do you think you are?” he hissed, his voice low, lethal, inches from my lips.
“Invading my phone like some jealous little wife?” His eyes glittered with fury.
“You think because you know about my past, you get to act like one? Like you’ve earned that title?”
His grip tightened just a fraction.
“You’re still my fucking—”
“Say it,” I choke out, tears dripping, my voice defiant. “Slave, right?”
He releases me, his hand shaking, and steps back. “Know your place, Charlotte,” he says, his voice low, cold. “And don’t touch my phone again.” He turns to his chair, then pauses. “Elodie’s leaving today. She’s a traitor for telling you my past. I didn’t permit that.”
