Page 112 of Cinderella Is Faking It

“You don’t have to explain,” I squeezed her hand, “it’s fine.”

“I want to, please. I’ve not had friends since myfirsttimebeing held hostage.” She rolled her glistening eyes at the sound of that. “And even though I was always friendly with our staff, the cooks, the maids, the drivers, none of them were ever truly my friends. They moved on without so much as a goodbye, or they would talk behind closed doors about how much they pitied me. I knew you would move on, too. And when I told you that you should remember that you’re my employee, I was also talking to myself, because I knew that our relationship was first and foremost transactional. I don’t want it to stay that way though.”

“Cordelia.” I scooted closer, causing Fitzwilliam to hiss and sink his claws into the blanket over my feet. “This was never just transactional. That first night in the bathroom at Truman, I didn’t agree to wear that dress because of its resale value. I saw so much of myself in you, and I’m not talking about the hair or the eyes or the nose. All of which are kind of weird though.”

“Don’t worry. I had our DNA checked. We’re not actually related.”

“You had our- you know what, never mind. Just because we’re not biologically related, doesn’t mean anything. You let me borrow your clothes and you offer to buy me condoms and we eat ice cream when you have nightmares. I only have books for reference, but that sounds very sisterly to me.”

“I’m also the one who ate your Pringles. Not Victor. I had a midnight craving.”

“Are you kidding me? I gave him shit for days.”

“I know. He’s been covering for me. He doesn’t even like chips.”

“So when he put like 30 rolls of Pringles in the pantry...”

“He’s very good at being passive aggressive.”

We both laughed, days’ worth of tension rippling off our shoulders. When our laughter fizzled out, a single happy tear running down my cheek, I gave her hand another soft squeeze. “Have you talked to him? What happened with his family?”

“I’m not sure.” She nodded slowly. “It’s fine. We’ll be back to normal soon.”

“Don’t you want more than that?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want if it’s not reciprocated.”

“I see the way he looks at you, Cordelia, and I know the two of you have kissed before. Before you say anything, I tricked him into admitting that.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She stiffened and pulled her hand back, only to continue smoothing out her already smooth skirt. “For what it’s worth, Julian didn’t lie. Victor has a complicated past and an even more complicated family. He was upfront with me about it the day he interviewed for the job. I told him that I wasn’t going to leave this house unless there was an emergency, and he said that he needed a place to hide from the people that want his head on a platter.”

A knock on the doorframe had our heads snap up. “Sorry to interrupt,” Victor leaned against the door. “A messenger dropped this off for you, Del.”

He held up a gift box. I recognized its shape and the matte black color. No big red ribbon this time. My spine straightened at the memory of the last time I saw that box. Or a box just like it - depending on whether the original had survived the accident. “I don’t want it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Could you send it back?”

“Of course.” He wedged the box under his arm and shot a quick look at Cordelia, who was suddenly very distracted by a non-existent piece of lint on her sleeve. “I’ll get started on dinner.”

“Thanks,” Cordelia said without looking up.

I tried to offer him a reassuring smile, but his eyes were solely transfixed on Cordelia before he turned and left. Once he was gone, she let out a long, shaky breath.

“That didn’t look like it wasfine,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” she choked on a bitter laugh, “I’ll work harder on getting over the fact that he killed a man for me.”

Her words cracked my carefully built mental dam, and all the thoughts I’ve been walling up, the things I’ve been told not to worry about, broke flooded through me. “Julian’s dead?”

FORTY-SIX

11 DAYS.

That’s how long it took for my life to be irrevocably changed, only to fall back into a daily routine.

Access to his personal computers made it easy to link Julian to the money taken out of Axent’s accounts to pay off the Yelchin family, and with that in hand, it was even easier to make it look like he’d fled the country.