Page 16 of Cruel Deception
His boots crunch closer, each step a hammer to my racing heart.
The air shifts, heavy with his presence, as if the world bends to his will. He crouches before me, his leather creaking, and grips my chin, forcing my eyes to his. Those blue eyes burn, stripping me bare. “You belong to the Morettis,” he says, his voice a low growl, each word a chain. “How dare you let another man touch you.”
“He was forcing me,” I snap, my voice trembling but fierce, pain making me reckless. “I didn’t want it.”
“Thieves lie,” he says, his grip tightening, his thumb brushing my jaw with a dangerous tenderness. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
His command sends a shiver through me, fear and pain tangling in my chest.
I try to turn away, but his hold is unyielding, his eyes locking me in place. “Why’re you clutching your chest?” he asks, his tone mocking. “Playing the damsel now? Ashamed of your little stunt?”
Relief flickers—he doesn’t know about my surgery.
Thank God. But the pain is unbearable, a fire spreading through my ribs. I need a mirror, a doctor, something to check if the stitches tore. I’m still curled on the ground, one hand pressed to my chest, as if letting go will make it worse. “I’m not pretending,” I whisper, my voice weak.
“Get up,” he orders, standing, his shadow swallowing me.
“I can’t,” I say, not defiance but truth. The pain spikes with every movement, pinning me to the dirt. If I stand, I’m afraid I’ll collapse, the agony too much to bear.
Cassian’s eyes narrow, his jaw tight, as if my refusal is a personal insult.
He steps closer, looming over me, his presence a storm I can’t escape. “You’re testing my patience, Charlotte,” he says, his voice low, dangerous, promising something worse than pain. “You’ll learn to obey, one way or another.”
Cassian’s arms swept me up without warning, his grip unyielding yet strangely gentle, as if I were a fragile thing he could crush or cradle at will.
I didn’t fight him—not because I didn’t want to, but because my body betrayed me, too weak to resist.
All I wanted was to crawl home, check the scars from my surgery, and pray the strain hadn’t torn something open.
But being pressed against him, his cedar-and-smoke scent wrapping around me, made me feel small, insignificant, like a sparrow caught in a storm.
He carried me with one arm, my weight nothing to his corded strength, and set me gently on the back of his sleek black motorcycle.
The leather seat was cold against my thighs, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from him. “Hold me tight,” he said, his voice a low growl as he straddled the bike, pulling on his helmet. “I drive fast.”
My breath caught, the pain in my chest flaring at the thought of pressing it against his back. The surgical scars, still tender, would scream under the pressure.
I slid off the bike, swallowing a wince as I forced myself to stand tall, hiding my weakness. “I’m sick,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “The bike will hurt too much. Can we take a car?”
Cassian froze, the roar of the engine dying as he yanked off his helmet.
His dark eyes narrowed, pinning me in place, but I held my ground, clutching my resolve like a shield. “Being stubborn won’t help you,” he said, his tone laced with warning.
“I’m not being stubborn.” I met his gaze, though my heart pounded. “I’m in pain. The bike will make it worse.”
For a moment, he just stared, his jaw tight, as if weighing whether to drag me back onto the bike or snap my neck.
Then he turned, stalking toward Nico’s lifeless body sprawled in the alley, blood pooling beneath him like spilled ink.
He crouched, rifling through Nico’s jacket, and pulled out a set of car keys. Without a word, he strode to a black SUV parked nearby, slid into the driver’s seat, and started the engine.
I opened the back door, but before I could climb in, his voice cut through the air like a blade. “I’m not your driver, Charlotte. Sit in front.”
I’d already defied him once, and the weight of his stare told me pushing further would be a mistake.
Swallowing my pride, I shut the back door and slid into the passenger seat, the leather creaking under me.
The silence was suffocating as he drove, the city lights blurring past like ghosts. I didn’t know where he was taking me, and the uncertainty gnawed at my insides.
