Page 99 of Cruel Deception
He stared at me—stoic, silent.
And still, he walked toward me.
“Stay back!” I screamed. “Don’t tempt me—just tell me where my mother is.”
He didn’t stop. Didn’t hesitate.
“Cassian, I’m begging you... where is she?” My voice was rising, breaking apart. The gun shook in my hand, one finger trembling over the trigger. “Tell me now!”
In a flash, he lunged—to disarm me.
The shot fired before I even registered the pressure of my finger pulling.
The bullet pierced his chest.
His body jerked, hands flying to the wound. He looked at me—not with anger—but with pain. Shock. And betrayal.
“Charlotte...” he gasped.
He staggered backward, reaching toward me like he still wanted to hold me. Like he wanted to speak.
But his body crumpled.
He collapsed.
His eyes closed.
And everything—everything—went still.
The gun fell from my hand with a loud thud, echoing off the walls like thunder in an empty church.
My knees gave way.
“No... no, no, no.” I scrambled toward him, dropping beside his body, pressing my palms to his chest, desperate. “Cassian... please...”
His face was pale. His body still. Blood was soaking through his shirt and staining my fingers.
“I didn’t mean to—I didn’t...” I pressed my ear to his chest. Nothing. I started CPR, slamming my palms into his chest, counting through tears, pushing the air into his mouth, trying again, and again, and again.
But he didn’t move.
He didn’t blink.
He didn’t breathe.
“Wake up!” I screamed. “Cassian—please—I didn’t mean to shoot you! Wake the fuck up!”
Tears streamed down my cheeks, blinding me. I clutched his shirt, sobbing, rocking back and forth like a woman unraveling.
What if I misjudged him?
What if he wasn’t like Luca at all?
What if the woman locked up wasn’t even my mother?
God, what have I done?
Still on the floor, heart crushed, mind splintered, I fumbled for my phone with shaking hands. My only family left. My last resort.
