Page 51 of Cruel Deception
“What the fuck did you do to her?!”
Vincent.
I barely had time to process his voice before he stormed in, rage spilling off him like smoke.
His suit was wrinkled. His eyes, bloodshot. His face was wild with something feral and reckless.
His fists were clenched as he stalked toward Cassian—who stood at the window, silent, gloved hands behind his back like this was a business meeting.
“Vincent,” I rasped. My voice was a ghost of itself.
He turned to me fast—his whole expression cracked open. Grief. Fury. Guilt. “Charlotte...” He crossed the room in two long strides, kneeling beside the bed, taking my cold hand into both of his. “God. What the hell did he do to you?”
“She’s awake.” Cassian said flatly from behind him, without turning.
Vincent stood slowly. “Don’t talk.”
Cassian tilted his head. Still calm. “Don’t try me.”
“You locked her in a hole and left her there like a dog. You think you can get away with that because you wear a suit and bark orders?”
“Vincent—please,” I said, voice shaking. I didn’t want him dead. Not here. Not for me.
But Vincent’s fury didn’t soften. He stepped toward Cassian again.
“I swear, if anything happens to her again, I will shoot you in the goddamn head myself.”
Cassian didn’t move. His eyes didn’t even flicker to Vincent.
“If you take one more step forward,” he said, calm as winter, “I’ll make this room your grave.”
Vincent froze.
Because even in his anger, he wasn’t stupid.
Other mafia bosses had bodyguards. Cassian was the bodyguard. No security detail. No men flanking him. Just one man, a bike, and a reputation that made entire crime families flinch.
Vincent’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t take that final step.
He turned to me instead. His voice cracked. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. I didn’t think it’d be this bad.”
Cassian stayed still, a soldier at parade rest.
“Can we have some privacy?” Vincent asked, gesturing toward the door.
“No,” Cassian said.
Vincent looked like he might punch a wall.
He sank back onto the edge of the bed, still holding my hand. “What did he do to you? Did he hurt you? Did he...” He couldn’t finish it.
Cassian’s voice lashed out like a whip. “Take your hands off my wife.”
Vincent stiffened. “What?”
“He’s my brother!” I snapped.
Vincent stood. “I’ve known her since she was in diapers. You think claiming her with a ring changes that?”
