Page 20 of Cinderella and the Daddy

For him, it’s a picture.

For me, it’s a trap I almost don’t want to escape.

"Leo, I need you to listen to me, okay?" I keep my voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill over. "Things might change around here. Your papa might decide I can't stay."

"No. You can't leave. You're my..."

He doesn't say the word, but I hear it anyway. The same word that slipped out during story time two nights ago. The word has been bouncing around in my head ever since.

“Shh, sleep,” I murmur.

6

LUKA

Ifind Leo in her bed this morning after ten gut-wrenching minutes of searching the grounds. I had mobilized half my security team before Viktor suggested checking Cindy's room.

They are both sound asleep. Leo curled against her side like a kitten seeking warmth. Her arm wrapped protectively around him, even in sleep.

She’s beautiful. I rarely look at a woman and see beauty. I see sex. I see tits and ass and think about the many ways they can please me.

But Cindy, she’s different. She’s tough and soft at the same time. I want to know her story. How the fuck did she end up with the Tremaines?

She wakes suddenly. Sees me looming over them. Her eyes are filled with fear—but she still brings a finger to her lips, silently telling me not to wake Leo. That small gesture, putting his peace before her own safety, makes my heart feel like it is caught in a vise.

I leave them, but station two guards outside her door. I can't trust her—not after yesterday—but in my gut, I know she would never hurt Leo.

Two hours later, I return to her room. She didn’t come to breakfast. I assume she’s pouting.

"You're coming with me tonight," I tell her.

Her head snaps up. "Where?"

"Bratva dinner. You're going to be my girlfriend." The words taste strange on my tongue. "Fiancée, actually."

She shakes her head. “No.”

“It wasn’t a request.”

“I’m not your girlfriend,” she hisses. "I’m your captive."

After yesterday, I need her where I can see her. Where I can control the variables.

“You’ll be ready at six.”

She scoffs. “And what makes you think I won’t try and run?”

“Because I’ll kill you if you do.”

Her mouth drops open. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would. There will be a dress delivered soon. Wear it. Don’t fuck around. I’m not in the mood.”

I turn and am about to leave when I step back inside. “And go get some fucking breakfast. I’m not doing this whole hunger strike thing.”

She glares at me. “I thought I was confined to my room—you know, just in case I try to escape.”

I walk to her, watching her tense up. She’s afraid of me.