Page 24 of Cinderella and the Daddy

She melts against me for a heartbeat, her lips soft and yielding. Then she bites my lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

I pull back, touching my tongue to the wound, tasting copper and defiance.

"Careful,dikaya," I murmur against her ear. "You're playing with fire."

"Good," she whispers back, her voice rough with want and anger. "I've been cold for too long."

“You belong to me. Don’t make me prove it.”

7

CINDY

The silence in the car on the way back to the compound feels different.

Tense, but in a way I don’t really understand.

The silk dress feels foreign against my skin, like I'm wearing someone else's life.

I stare out the window and think about my life. It’s divided into a before and after Luka. I can’t decide if it’s better or worse. If I’m being really honest with myself, being with Luka is better in a lot of ways.

But it’s so uncertain.

When does the “after Luka” start?

I've had enough of the mixed signals, the possessive bullshit followed by cold distance. If I'm going to be trapped here, I deserve answers.

Luka escorts me upstairs but doesn't follow me down the hall to where my room is. He starts to walk away, dismissing me like I'm some employee he's done with for the evening.

"Oh hell no," I mutter, kicking off the torture devices masquerading as heels. "We're not done."

I chase after him in bare feet, the silk dress hiked up so I can move. "Luka!"

He stops but doesn't turn around. His shoulders are rigid beneath the expensive suit jacket.

"What the hell was that back there?" I demand, circling to face him. "You drag me to that dinner, parade me around like your property, then get all psychotic when other men talk to me. What am I to you?"

His hazel eyes are unreadable in the moonlight. "You're here."

"That's not an answer." Frustration boils over. A lifetime of being dismissed and ignored has brought me to the point of a fucking volcanic eruption.

I’m done.

I’m done being a fucking pawn in everyone else’s life.

"Why keep me here if you don't trust me? Why get jealous when we're not even really together? One night in your garage doesn't mean you own me."

Something dangerous flickers across his face. "Doesn't it?"

"No! It doesn't!" I shove against his chest, but he doesn't budge. "I'm not your possession. I'm not your girlfriend. I'm not your anything except your fucking prisoner."

The words hang between us like a challenge. Then he moves faster than I can react, backing me against the wall. His hands brace on either side of my head, caging me in.

"Mine," he growls, his voice low and deadly. "Say it."

"Go fuck yourself."

His jaw clenches. The muscle in his cheek twitches. "Say it, Cindy."