Page 26 of Falling for Them (Cinderella’s Daddies #1)

Twenty-Three

Kingston

“Wait a minute.” Sebastian’s voice goes low and quiet. He glares at me from across my office. “Say that again.”

“I said, my asshole son posted a sex tape of him and Ella.”

Bash blinks at me, like it’s still not sinking in. I called him here so I could tell him in person and we could figure out what the fuck to do, but he’s not being any help.

Then I realize it’s because he’s wound so tight, if he moves, he’ll fucking explode.

I know the feeling, because it’s the same with me. I’m holding tightly to the edge of my desk and it’s taking all of my self-control not to flip it completely over, stomp one of the legs off, and beat my son with it.

“Where is he now,” Sebastian says.

No inflection. No emotion.

I’ve seen him like this once before—seven years ago. So full of rage, he nearly shut down. Only then, the rage was directed inward. It was a scary fucking time, and I’d worried about my friend.

Now, though, I’m just worried about Ella.

“King,” Sebastian says. “Where is he.”

“No fucking clue,” I say.

He nods grimly. “That’s probably best. And where’s Ella?”

I hold up my phone. “I’ve been trying to call her since before I called you.”

“Her phone isn’t working—”

“It’s going to voicemail now, so it is.” I put the call on speaker and try once more.

It goes straight to the automated answering message.

I hang up before the beep sounds, because I’ve already left enough messages.

There can be no doubt in Ella’s mind that I want to talk to her.

At least, there won’t be, as long as she listens to her messages.

“We have to find her,” Sebastian says.

“I know.”

“We know what building she lives in.” He’s turning toward the door. “Let’s go.”

My phone rings. It’s my ex, Rayanne, so I decline the call. I can’t deal with her shit right now, on top of everything else. I slip on my jacket.

My phone rings again. This time, it isn’t Rayanne, but the Maids in Heaven owner, Melinda Nokim. Shit.

My finger hovers over the decline button. But maybe she has info on where Ella is, and how Bash and I can get to her faster.

“I have to take this,” I say to Bash.

He frowns. “Don’t you dare. We have one major issue to deal with—finding Ella.”

“Just wait a second,” I say.

“Fuck you, I’m not waiting,” he says, turning around and marching out of my office.

Then he’s gone.

Asshole thinks I’m taking a work call, at a time like this? I answer Melinda. “Kingston here. I know about the video.”

Her voice is hard and cold as ice. “Tell me why I shouldn’t drag your company through the mud.”

She could do it, too. She might not have the biggest, most profitable company in San Esteban, but she’s more influential than the richest CEOs put together.

So I answer her honestly. “You’re well within your rights to do that, and maybe I would deserve it. But you should know, I’m doing everything in my power to stop this immediately.”

“For a maid?” she says.

“Yes.”

“Because you want her for yourself.”

“I would do it for anyone,” I say. “I already have tech working on it. None of our internal communication is up right now.”

“You shut things down in the interim?” she asks, sounding shocked. She can probably guess how much money a company like mine will lose when it shuts everything down.

“Of course. I am not letting shit like that fly.”

“Do you know who posted the video?” She must know it was my son, but she’s not saying so.

“I do.”

“Does he still have a job?”

“Not for long.” I clear my throat. “I guess you’ve spoken with Ella?”

“You know,” Melinda says thoughtfully, “a few days ago, I asked her why she wanted to stop working in your building. It’s one of the best in the rotation.

I wanted to make sure no one had hurt her there.

She didn’t squeal on your son, although I can see now that what he was doing was highly inappropriate.

I’m not excusing her behavior—she shouldn’t have been messing around with someone at a building where she worked, either.

But I have a feeling she was still doing her job, at least.”

“She was. We had no complaints about the work she did.”

“Ultimately, it comes down to power, and who abused it.” The chill is back in Melinda’s tone.

“I agree.”

“I think you’re a good man, Kingston. I wish I could say the same for your son.”

So do I. But I don’t want to talk about Joel. I don’t even want to think about him. My priority right now is my little girl.

“Is Ella with you now?” I ask.

Melinda snorts, her professional veneer cracking. “As if I would tell you one way or the other. You lost your in with me. Find her in some other way. I’m not a part of this any longer.”

She ends the call.

I’m already walking out of my office, following in Bash’s angry footsteps. He’s nowhere in sight, but I’ll catch up with him.

Sebastian

I can’t fucking believe this. Ella’s not answering her phone. I’ve texted her a hundred times, and I’m sure King has, too.

I’m staring up at Ella’s apartment building and getting weird looks from a couple of ladies who sit on the steps on the next building over.

“Just waiting for a friend,” I say, waving at them.

The late January sun does nothing to warm me. My fingers feel brittle. All I can think of is Ella, knowing there’s a sex tape of her, and what she must be feeling right now.

Well, I’m also thinking about beating Joel to a pulp. But mostly I’m thinking of Ella.

“Have you seen her yet?” Kingston asks, walking up from where his driver parked.

“No. Have you finished your important call?” I can’t keep the sarcasm from my voice.

“That call was with Ella’s boss at Maids in Heaven, asshole. I was hoping she could give me some information.”

“I would think Ella is more important than—wait.” I allow his meaning to sink in. “Did she have info to share?”

He shakes his head. “She wouldn’t tell me anything, other than she’s going to rake my company through the coals if I don’t fix this.”

“Which you’re already doing,” I say. He doesn’t even have to confirm that—I know my friend, and I know he’s doing the right thing.

Still, he nods. “Of course I am. And as soon as I find Joel, I’m firing his ass.”

“Rayanne’s not going to be too happy about that,” I say.

“She can give him a position at Perdure,” King says offhandedly.

“Yeah. Let him be Mr. and Mrs. Hackler’s problem instead of yours,” I say, although I wonder if Rayanne might have wanted Joel at Tyler Analytics for a reason…

the reason being she could keep an eye on King’s business.

I haven’t wanted to voice the suspicion out loud, though, because I’m already vocal enough about my hatred of Rayanne. I’ve never met a more conniving person.

King and I wait another half hour.

“We could go to the pub where she works,” I say.

“She’s supposed to go out with us tonight,” King says. “I doubt she’s working.”

“Oh, right. Shit, where is she? Do you think she’s staying in her apartment? Should we go into the building?”

“We’re not breaking into her building.” Kingston’s voice is firm.

I know he’s right, but damn it.

We wait a couple more hours, but after no sign of Ella, we finally give up.

“I’m coming back tomorrow,” I say. “Or I’m tracking her down at her other job.”

“We’re not stalkers,” King says.

“I know. I’m not stalking. I’m just trying to find a woman who’s been wronged, and who I want to make feel better.”

“Said every stalker ever,” Kingston mutters.

“Fuck you.” There’s no heat in my words—I’m too worried about Ella.

“Fuck you, too.” He sounds just as exhausted and worried as I am.

Ella

Kevin gives me a ride home from Bartleby’s, which means I don’t get home until two a.m.

“Thanks for giving me the shift on short notice,” I say.

“Nicholas was happy enough to have Friday off.”

Nicholas-don’t-call-me-Nick is always happy to skip Fridays.

“Be careful out there,” Kevin says, likely still remembering those guys who were hassling me the other night.

Thankfully, he doesn’t know about the sex tape or anything else going on. I didn’t hear from Joel for the rest of the day, and other than finally confessing everything to Melinda at Maids in Heaven, I’ve kept my head down and tried not to think about it.

The worst thing for me with a sex tape is…what? I don’t have much of a family to disappoint. Tommy will be mad, but ultimately it isn’t going to hurt either of us. It’s not like I’m a celebrity or aiming to get a position in a public office or some shit like that.

But it still fucking hurts. It’s still a gross violation of my body and my mind.

Kevin waits at the curb while I let myself into the building. I wave at him and then close the door firmly behind me. Because of course, the last person to use the door didn’t close it all the way. The landlord really needs to fix this. I’ll leave him another message tomorrow.

I tromp up the stairs to my apartment and nearly have a heart attack when I see Tommy waiting by my door.

“Tommy, for fuck’s sake, you have to call me,” I say, keeping my voice low so I don’t bother any of my neighbors.

“I did,” he says, shrugging.

I pull my phone from my bag and look at the screen. Sure enough, he called. I’d put my phone on silent to avoid all of the calls from Sebastian and Mr. Tyler. “Well, fine, then,” I say.

“Good,” he says. “I even brought you a sandwich from that bodega on the corner.”

“Thank you,” I say. “I already ate, but it’ll make a nice lunch tomorrow. Come on in.”

We go into my apartment. Tommy sets the sandwich bag on the coffee table and then sprawls on the couch. I give him a pointed look until he moves his legs aside, a chagrined look on his face. The couch is the only place to sit, and no way am I sitting on the floor after working all evening.

“So, what’s up?” I ask.

He grins. “I wanted to congratulate you on going viral.”

All the blood rushes from my face. I can’t speak. Then I choke out, “Viral?”

“You’re in a video,” Tommy says.

My stomach drops. “Tell me you haven’t seen it, Tommy. Promise me you’ll click away, don’t look.”

“What are you talking about?” His brown eyes squint at me in confusion. “It’s really good.”

“Are we talking— what ?” We cannot be talking about the sex video, because Tommy might be a dick, but he’s not, like, ew . I can’t even finish the thought.

He holds up his phone. “I have it right here. You sound good, Ella. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you sang with Bastian fuckin’ Crown.”

Bastian Crown ? I can’t speak, but it doesn’t matter, because Tommy’s already clicking around on his phone. He holds up a clip on VideYou, and the still shows me and Sebastian.

Sebastian…Bash…Bastian. Shit. I had no fucking idea.

Tommy clicks play , and that night comes back to me.

Sebastian’s reluctance to sing, which had made absolutely no sense to me, because he turned out to have an amazing voice.

The strange attention everyone had paid us, and the energy in the lounge as we sang.

That woman had asked us to sing a Bastian Crown song.

I’d responded that I didn’t really know his music.

A hysterical laugh erupts from my throat.

Tommy looks over at me. “What’s so funny?”

I can only shake my head as I watch Sebastian and me sing. Now I understand. It wasn’t his face that was familiar to me when I first met him—it’s his voice. I’ve heard his songs—how could I not? He’s a freaking star. His voice is everywhere. I just never listened to his songs that much.

I’m an idiot for not figuring it out sooner.

He looks incredible in the video. He’s in control, like he belongs on that stage. He knew how to interact with the crowd, how to perform .

I did karaoke with a rock star. I’ve fucked a rock star. And I had no fucking idea.

Another laugh leaves my mouth.

Tommy pauses the video. “Ella, what is going on?”

I shake my head and cover my face, but I can’t stop laughing. “I didn’t know he was Bastian Crown.”

Tommy gives me a skeptical look. “Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“You’re shitting me. You were up on stage with Bastian Crown and you didn’t know it was him?”

“I never really paid attention to his music, not really. I certainly never knew what he looked like. You think I’ve had time to internet-stalk every rock star?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re like, the only person in that bar who didn’t know who he was, huh?”

“Seems so,” I say, looking at the stilled video on Tommy’s phone. Unbelievable.

“Well, that was it,” he says. “I’ll let you get some rest.”

“You’re being awfully considerate,” I tell him. “Where’s the real Tommy?”

“Shut up. I’m just trying not to be a dick.”

“I appreciate that,” I say. “As well as the sandwich.”

He stands up and stretches. “You can’t loan me fifty bucks, can you?”

Ugh. “Tommy. Get the fuck out.”

He grins and holds up his hands. “Sorry, sorry. I had to ask.”

I just point to the door, but I can feel my mouth twitching in an almost-smile. “Too soon, dickhead.”

Laughing, he leaves.

As soon as he’s gone, my mood plummets, because now I’m alone with my thoughts, which, instead of dwelling on Sebastian being Bastian Crown, invariably return to that video of me and Joel. I knew he was a creep, but I never thought he would do something like that. Something so invasive.

I should’ve been going out with Mr. Tyler and Sebastian tonight.

I should’ve been dressing up, feeling nervous butterflies in my stomach and wondering how the night would end.

Instead, I’d asked Kevin for an extra shift at Bartleby’s so I wouldn’t have to be here, alone in my apartment, thinking and worrying.

I can’t date Mr. Tyler and Sebastian, not with Joel’s threat hanging over me. It’s one thing to not care about what the world things of me dating two men. It’s another thing entirely to have a sex tape floating around, out of my control.

Pulling my tattered throw pillow into my lap, I clutch it tightly to my chest, wondering if I’ll ever feel free, now that Joel has that video to hold over my head.

I don’t think I will.

He’s never going to let me go, and even if he says he has, I’ll never be able to trust that.

For the rest of my life, I’ll be looking over my shoulder, wondering when that video might surface.

A choked sob leaves my throat, but I take a deep breath and hold it. I’m not going to cry. I’m tired of that shit. So I burrow deep down into my own mind where all is dark and sterile and I don’t have to feel or see anything at all.

My keyboard beckons from the corner of the room.

But I’m never going to sing again.