Page 117 of Crushed Vow

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But what surprised me more—what terrified me more—was that he had my number. I’d changed it. Twice. Cassian’s men were supposed to erase every trace of me.

But Grayson was mafia.

And I was still his blood.

He would always find a way to crawl through the cracks.

My fingers moved before I could stop them. Fury steadied my hands in a way fear never could.

“I see how you raised Vincent to be just like you, Grayson. You’re doing a stellar job molding a monster. But I’ll be here, watching, when you finally fall.”

I hit send. No hesitation.

And walked.

Fast.

Painfully fast.

As if motion could shake off the filth of his presence, the way his eyes had crawled over me like insects.

Chapter 17

CHARLOTTE

“Charlotte!”

Manuel’s voice caught up with my footsteps, his loafers echoing against the concrete. “Wait—”

He jogged to my side, brows pinched, breath slightly winded. “Are you okay?”

I didn’t slow. Just nodded. Curt. A lump pressed hard against my throat.

“I need to go home.”

Home. If I could even call it that.

“I can see your relationship with your father is... complicated,” Manuel said gently, keeping pace beside me, his voice tentative, like he was trying not to spook a wounded animal.

I almost laughed.

Complicated?

“It is,” I said, voice clipped. “It always has been.”

Manuel paused beside my car, hands casually in his pockets, trying too hard to act unaffected. “Maybe we could try this again,” he said lightly. “Somewhere private. I could book a restaurant just for us—no interruptions, no surprises.”

His voice barely registered.

My mind was still swimming in the thick, black tar of Grayson’s words.

What does he see in you? A woman carved open. Incomplete. Broken

I nodded vaguely. “Maybe.”

My fingers trembled as I reached for my phone—still buzzing violently in my hand. I glanced down.

Cassian.

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