Page 74 of Sinful Obsession
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed on the nightstand, a strange number flashing on the screen—no name, just digits.
It could be from the company, a new client inquiring about a design, or perhaps a supplier. I picked it up, switching to my professional tone. “Good afternoon, this is Charlotte,” I greeted in Russian, my accent polished from years of immersion.
“Charlotte,” came the voice on the other end, deep and commanding, laced with that familiar intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.
Cassian. My heart stopped, the world tilting.
“Who is that, Mommy?” Aria asked, tilting her head curiously, her defiance forgotten for a moment.
“Baby, please wait for me outside,” I said, my voice strained as I helped her off my lap and guided her to the door.
She pouted but obeyed, her little feet padding away.
I slammed the door shut behind her, leaning against it as my knees weakened.
Hearing his voice after six years—it did something to me, a tingle in my stomach I hated, a pull I’d tried so hard to sever.
Tears burned my eyes, but I wouldn’t let them fall. Not for him.
“What do you want?” I asked, forcing my voice to be emotionless, even as my insides unraveled.
“Tell me where you are right now, Charlotte,” he demanded, urgent and possessive, like no time had passed. “And that man better leave before I get there.”
“What man?” I snapped, confusion mixing with anger.
“That man you’re calling ‘baby,’” he growled, jealousy dripping from every word. “How can you move on, Charlotte? After everything?”
“Are you kidding me?” I laughed, bitter and sharp, wiping away a traitorous tear. “How can I move on after six years? You’ve truly lost your mind. Why are you calling? How did you even get this number?”
He hung up without another word, the line going dead.
Rage surged through me, and I smashed the phone against the floor, the screen cracking with a satisfying shatter.
How dare he?
Accusing me of moving on when he’d been the one to shove me out of his life like garbage.
Six years—long enough to build walls, to forget the way his touch set me on fire.
But one call, and it all cracked.
And how had he gotten my number? I’d ditched my old line the moment I landed in Moscow, starting fresh with a new SIM, untraceable. Or so I thought.
I took a deep breath, composing myself before stepping out to the living room.
Aria and Asher were on the rug, surrounded by crayons and paper, Asher’s glitter pencil clutched possessively in his small hand.
He looked so much like Cassian—same intense blue eyes, dark hair falling over his forehead, a serious expression that belied his age.
Aria, with her curls and sparkly personality, was my mirror, defiant and full of life. “Okay, you two,” I said, clapping my hands to get their attention. “Let’s play a game. How about tag in the backyard?”
“Yay!” Aria squealed, jumping up, her earlier pout forgotten. Asher nodded, more reserved, but his eyes lit up.
We headed to the small courtyard behind the apartment, a fenced patch of grass with a swing set and flower pots I’d planted last spring.
The sun was warm, birds chirping in the nearby trees. “You’re it, Mommy!” Aria yelled, darting away with a giggle.
I chased them, laughter bubbling up despite the ache in my chest.
