Page 19 of Sinful Obsession
“Yes, sir,” I replied, my tone steady despite the tremor in my core.
“Charles, you realize you’re the smallest and slightest here, don’t you?” he said, his words laced with a dark amusement that felt like a challenge.
“Sir, Dmitri told me,” I said, my voice hardening with resolve, my chin lifting. “But I’m here to prove I can hold my own. I’ll survive this, no matter the odds.”
Dmitri and Misha stood at the altar, watching us, their expressions unreadable, perhaps questioning why Cassian had singled me out.
He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear, and whispered, “You may deceive others, but not me, Charlotte.”
My heart stopped, the air sucked from my lungs.
He knew—not just my disguise, but my name.
How?
I stayed silent, acutely aware of Dmitri and Misha’s presence, my mind racing to keep my composure. “Elodie is dead because of you,” he whispered, his voice a venomous hiss.
Elodie?
The name was a void, yet it struck like a spark, igniting a fog of memory.
A face, blurred and fleeting, flashes that vanished before I could grasp them.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my voice steady.
His hand shot out, seizing my throat, and he slammed me against the iron wall with a force that rattled my bones.
He lifted me until my feet dangled, my boots scraping uselessly against the steel.
I gasped, clawing at his hand, my lungs burning as I fought for air.
“Don’t play games with me,” he growled, his frown deepening, his blue eyes blazing with a fury that felt ancient. “You betrayed me, Charlotte. You had her killed.”
“I... I don’t—” I tried to speak, but he squeezed harder.
“Don’t play dumb,” he growled.
My vision started to blur. I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but the rage in his voice wasn’t just professional. It was personal.
My strength ebbed fast, hands slapping weakly against his iron grip. Just as darkness crept in, he released me. I collapsed, coughing, clutching my throat, my body trembling as I fought to breathe.
He stood above me, looming like a judgment, his face a mask of ice, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Playing dumb won’t save you,” he said, voice like gravel. “You think coming here makes you untouchable? That I’ll forget what you did?”
His jaw flexed.
“I don’t care what name you go by now, or how innocent you pretend to be. I know what you did. And when I’m done with you... you’ll wish you’d never been born—let alone stepped foot in the House of Devils.”
Then he turned and walked off, leaving me gasping on the cold floor with nothing but a single name echoing in my mind:
Elodie.
I stood frozen, his words slamming into me harder than the wall ever could.
Wait... was he talking about the missing years? From early 2024 to late 2027?
A blank stretch in my memory—total darkness.
