Page 123 of Crushed Vow
He’s no longer my husband. And he never will be again. He needs to get that through his deluded head
As Manuel pulled out of the lot, I sat in rigid silence, still tasting the bitter venom of Cassian’s voice in my ears.
He glanced at me, one hand loosely on the wheel, the other tapping the steering column. “Your relationship with your ex-husband sounds... intense.”
I didn’t even look at him. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I snapped. My voice was flat, deadened, but the fury beneath it churned like a storm.
How dare he act like I owed him anything—after what he did to my mother, after leaving me humiliated, broken, gutted with scars that still hadn’t healed? The leash, the orders, the silence while others laughed at me like I was nothing.
No sacrifice could erase that. Not even him losing his sight in the fire—for me.
Forgiveness wasn’t just far away—it was dead. Distant like a dream I stopped having.
I shifted uncomfortably, realizing the streets outside weren’t familiar. The restaurant lights had long disappeared behind us.
My stomach twisted.
Wait.
I looked at the dashboard, then out the window.
Where the hell were we going?
We weren’t on the road to Cassian’s estate.
Not even close.
“I didn’t give you my address,” I said slowly, my voice tightening. “It’s 1427 Willow Lane. East side.”
“Got it,” Manuel said casually. “I just need to swing by my place real quick. Pick up a file. Then I’ll drop you off.”
My heart punched against my ribs.
“Excuse me?” My tone cut sharper now. “No. I’m not going to your house.”
“It’ll take two minutes,” he said, keeping his voice cool—but I saw it. The flicker of annoyance. The way his jaw clenched ever so slightly. His hands gripped the wheel tighter. “I just need to quickly do something,” he added. “That’s all.”
I turned fully to face him, my pulse pounding so loud it drowned the hum of the engine. “Pull over. Now.”
He didn’t answer.
The lights outside blurred. My palms were slick. My throat closed.
My mind raced. The way Cassian had sounded panicked on the phone, like he knew something.
I hadn’t listened.
God. What if he was right?
The memory of the psych ward slammed into me without warning. The thick leather straps.
The cold sting of the needle.
The hollow smile of the nurse as she pushed it into my veins. My screams swallowed by walls that didn’t care.
I gripped my phone so tight my fingers hurt.
Cassian would tear the city down to find me—if I could just reach him.
