Page 82 of Sinful Obsession
“You just didn’t trust me,” I countered, turning to face him. “You thought it’d make you look weak. Newsflash, Cassian—every adult has health challenges. Some are just louder than others. So, for once, tell me the truth. Are you really dying?”
He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he stared at the road. “The cancer... it’s relentless,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a clinical tone, as if distancing himself from the reality.
“Five surgeries over the years, each time excising malignant tumors from my lymphatic system. Chemotherapy, radiation, targeted inhibitors—they slow it down, but it always recurs, metastasizing faster than before. Recovery takes twelve months, minimum, if I’m lucky. Right now, I’m in remission, but scans last month showed potential new growths. I won’t know until the next biopsy.”
I swallowed hard, his words sinking in, a mix of pity and anger stirring in my chest.
“I’m sorry you keep going through this,” I said quietly, my gaze dropping to my hands.
I’d had one breast surgery years ago, a lumpectomy to remove a benign mass, and since then, I’d been healthy—no recurrence, no complications.
But the loss of my breast had left scars, not just physical. I’d considered implants, artificial curves to fill the void, but every time, I’d backed away.
I hated anything fake now—fake promises, fake lives. I’d learned to accept my flat chest, my body as it was, scars and all. It was mine, and that was enough.
Cassian pulled over in front of Aurora Designs.
“Charlotte, you still have money, right?” he asked, his voice softer, almost concerned.
“I’ve got a little over six million left,” I said, meeting his gaze briefly. “It was more than enough. I work because I want to—not because I have to.”
He nodded, his eyes lingering on me, searching for something I wasn’t willing to give.
I was about to step out when I paused, turning back to him.
Looking at him was like staring at Asher—same sharp jaw, same piercing blue eyes, a mirror of the son he’d never know.
The thought twisted in my gut, a pang of what could’ve been.
If he knew his kids were alive, he’d fight for them, drag us back into his world of blood and power. But they deserved better—peace, safety, a life free of his shadow.
“I’m really sorry about your health,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be.
“Don’t pity me,” he snapped, pride flaring in his eyes.
“It’s not a curse to feel for someone,” I said, sighing. “You’re human, Cassian, not a god. Goodbye.” I stepped out, the cold air hitting my face as I walked toward the office, my heart heavy with the lie I’d told and the truth I’d hidden.
Inside, I barely reached my desk, my sketchpad open to a half-finished gown design, when a shadow loomed in the corner.
I flinched, my breath catching as I saw Viktor Kuznetsov leaning against the wall, his pockmarked face and beady eyes watching me with that unsettling intensity.
“Mr. Kuznetsov, why are you there?” I asked, my voice tight, irritation masking my unease.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on you,” he said, his Russian accent thick, a smug grin spreading across his face. “That man you were with—I think he’s dangerous. I took a photo of him and sent it to the police for investigation.”
My blood boiled, and I stepped closer, fists clenched.
“What? That’s none of your business! I told you he’s family. Why are you poking into my life?”
“I don’t want you hurt,” he said, his tone softening, but his eyes gleamed with something that made my skin crawl.
I laughed, sharp and bitter. “You think I can’t protect myself? You’re my boss, Viktor, not my keeper. Why are you acting like you’re more?”
He took a step forward, too close, his cologne overpowering, his bulk looming. “Because I want to be more, Charlotte,” he said, his voice low, earnest in a way that felt wrong. “I want us together. I’m single, you’re single. In the five years you’ve worked here, I’ve never seen a man with you. I was too slow to say it, but I want you—as my woman, my wife even. That man today, he’s your ex, isn’t he? Trying to crawl back into your life.”
My stomach churned, disgust rising at his audacity.
Viktor, with his brutish face and greedy eyes, thought he could claim me? “I’m not interested,” I said, my voice cold, stepping back to put distance between us. “And let this be the last time you meddle in my personal life. Now, please leave.”
