Page 60 of Sinful Obsession
Could a man like Cassian, forged in blood and betrayal, have a heart soft enough to care?
I wanted to believe it, wanted to trust him, but fear kept the truth locked inside me.
Exhausted, I let his warmth pull me under, and sleep claimed me at last.
When I woke, the bed was empty, the duvet still tucked around my naked body.
Cassian was gone, his absence a cold void.
I didn’t bother dressing before stumbling to the library, my bare feet silent on the marble floor.
My burner phone blinked with three missed calls from Ethan.
My heart leaped—had he found a way out?
I dialed, and he answered on the first ring. “Ethan, any update?” My voice was breathless, urgent.
“Yeah,” he said, his tone clipped but excited. “There’s a river north of Cassian’s estate, through the woods. It’s two kilometers, a tough trek, especially in your condition. I doubt you can make it without tiring or Cassian catching you.”
“I’m not that weak,” I snapped, though my hand rested on my belly, the slight bump a reminder of my limits. “Is that the only way?”
“Yes. His estate’s a fortress—highest-grade tech, cameras everywhere. I barely got that burner phone and the test kit to you with a stealth drone, and even then, I thought his tech guys would spot it. I risked everything, Charlotte—my family, my life.”
I sighed, guilt twisting in my gut. “Thank you, Ethan. How long is a two-kilometer trek?”
“About thirty minutes at a steady pace,” he said. “Less if you’re fast, more if you’re... struggling.”
I swallowed. “I can do it.”
“It’s your only shot. At the river, there’s an electric boat waiting. Drive it to the other side, and I’ll be there with a chopper to take you to Chicago, where Cassian will never find you.”
Where Cassian will never find me.The words echoed, familiar yet wrong, like a memory I couldn’t place. “You’re in New York already?” I asked.
“Yeah, for you. Once you’re across, we’re gone.”
“Okay. I’ll keep you updated.” I hung up, my hands trembling as I slipped the phone back into its hiding place.
I bathed quickly, dressing in loose housewear, and headed to the kitchen.
Cassian’s cameras were everywhere, watching, so I moved with purpose, chopping vegetables with shaking hands, my heart pounding.
What would the woods be like?
Would I make it?
If Cassian caught me, would he kill me? The thought of his eyes—obsessed, hurt, betrayed—made my chest ache.
I ate alone, the silence deafening.
Cassian wasn’t in the dining room, the study, or the lounge.
The cameras would’ve alerted him if he were watching, but I sensed his absence.
It was now or never.
I slipped into my room, trading my housewear for jeans and a fitted top—clothes I could run in.
Standing before the mirror, I placed a hand on my belly, the small bump a quiet promise. “I don’t care who your father is,” I whispered, my voice fierce. “I’ll do anything to protect you.”
