Page 17 of Cruel Deception
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice small, “but I couldn’t find your bike.”
Cassian’s hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles whitening. “The one I brought was for Luca,” he said, his voice cold enough to freeze blood. “You still owe me mine.”
“I looked everywhere,” I said, desperation creeping in. “Someone must’ve stolen it. Don’t you have a tracker on it?”
He didn’t answer, his silence more menacing than words.
The SUV rolled through iron gates into the sprawling Moretti estate, a fortress of wealth and power cloaked in dusk.
The mansion loomed ahead, its windows glowing like predatory eyes. Cassian stepped out, and I followed, forcing myself to move as if the pain in my chest wasn’t a living thing trying to claw its way out.
“Come,” he said, a single word that brooked no argument.
I trailed him, my steps measured to hide my discomfort, though every movement sent a fresh stab through my ribs.
It was past seven, the sky bruising purple, and I wondered if he’d kill me here, in this gilded cage.
He hadn’t killed me at my grandfather’s house, where Nico’s body still lay, but the Morettis were unpredictable.
Nico’s death would ripple. Would my father wage war over it? God, I should’ve stayed away from the Morettis, but they were my only link to my mother.
We climbed a grand staircase to a private lounge, all dark wood and leather, where men in tailored suits lounged like kings.
Their eyes flicked to Cassian, then to me, assessing, calculating. With a wave of his hand, they rose and filed out, leaving us alone.
Cassian shrugged off his jacket, revealing a tight black undershirt that clung to his muscled frame, scars peeking from the edges like whispered threats. Before I could process, another figure entered—a man in a white coat, carrying a medical bag. My heart slammed against my aching chest. A doctor? Already?
Cassian gestured toward me, his eyes unreadable. “Check her.”
The doctor approached, his demeanor calm but clinical. “How are you feeling, miss?”
“Just a headache,” I lied, my voice tight. I couldn’t let them know about the surgery, the secret I’d buried beneath layers of shame and fear.
He raised an eyebrow, his gaze piercing, as if he could see the pain I was hiding. “Is that all?”
I nodded, forcing a smile. He opened his bag, pulling out a small vial of painkillers—ibuprofen, 800 mg—and a bottle of water. “Take two now,” he said, handing them to me. “They’ll ease the discomfort. Rest, and you should feel better in a few hours.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled, swallowing the pills with a sip of water. The doctor packed up and left with another wave from Cassian, who leaned against the bar, his presence filling the room like a storm cloud.
“Can I use the restroom?” I asked, needing a moment to breathe, to check my scars in private.
He pointed to a door across the lounge, his expression unreadable. “Go.”
I locked the bathroom door behind me, my hands trembling as I lifted my shirt and peeled off the padded bra hiding my surgical scars.
In the mirror, my chest looked intact—no tears, no blood, just the faint pink lines from the mastectomy. The pain was likely a strain from fighting Nico, but the relief was fleeting. I dressed quickly, smoothing my shirt, and stepped back into the lounge.
Cassian was at the bar now, speaking in low tones to someone—Luca.
My pulse spiked. Would Cassian tell him what happened with Nico? That I’d been too weak to stop him, that I’d let things spiral?
Luca was my fiancé, bound to me by duty, not love, but the Moretti brothers shared everything. If Cassian spoke, would Luca call off the marriage? Should I call it off? Honoring my grandfather’s wish had been my anchor, but now, standing in the heart of their empire, I felt like I was drowning.
I squared my shoulders and walked toward them, ready to end it, to tell them I couldn’t marry into this chaos. But Luca turned, his smile warm, disarming, nothing like the cold fire in Cassian’s eyes. “Miss Charlotte,” he said, keeping a respectful distance, his voice smooth like aged whiskey. “Cassian was just telling me—”
His phone rang, a shrill interruption that made my heart lurch.
My legs wobbled, and I glanced at Cassian, whose gaze burned into me, stripping me bare.
