Page 80 of Crushed Vow
“Let’s go, Charlotte.”
“I’m not following you,” I snapped, the words trembling with rage and grief. “You don’t own me anymore. We signed the damn papers.”
“Stop acting like you’re still my husband,” I added, louder now, my voice echoing off the sterile walls.
He didn’t move. Just stood there like a storm held in human form.
A muscle ticked in his cheek.
Then he turned without a word and walked out.
I turned back to Ethan, hoping we finally had a moment. But just as I reached for the chair beside his bed, the door opened again—and two hospital security guards stepped in.
“Mrs. Charlotte?” one said. “We’ve been instructed to escort you out.”
My jaw dropped.
Cassian.
Of course.
He hadn’t just walked away. He had ordered my removal the second he stepped into that hallway.
“I’m not done visiting him—!”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. These are strict instructions.”
I looked at Ethan, my chest twisting with guilt and rage. “I swear I’ll find a way back. I promise.”
Ethan gave a tired smile, something bittersweet behind his eyes. “You’ve always been stubborn, Charlotte. I don’t doubt you.”
I nodded, lips trembling.
Then I turned—and stormed out of the ward with fury crawling beneath my skin like fire ants. My fists were clenched. My jaw locked tight.
A nurse passed by in the hallway just as I did. I shoved past her shoulder, hard. Nearly slammed into her, but I didn’t stop. She muttered something behind me—maybe a curse, maybe concern, but I didn’t care.
I was choking on anger.
Choking on humiliation.
Cassian had thrown me out of a hospital room like I was some side piece. Like I didn’t matter. Like Ethan didn’t matter.
Like everything I’d fought for—my freedom, my healing, my right to exist on my own terms—was still negotiable.
And then I saw him.
Standing outside the hospital doors, tall and poised like sin itself.
Cassian Moretti.
Right beside his matte-black motorcycle—Sophia—his precious machine, glinting in the sunlight.
The key remote twirled lazily in his fingers, his back half-leaned against a pillar like he was waiting for me to fall in line. Like nothing that had just happened inside the hospital room was wrong.
Like he hadn’t just ordered me to be removed from someone I cared about.
My blood screamed.
