Page 1 of Midnight Whispers

Chapter

One

CINDER

Tonight, I’ll finally meet the mystery guy—Nero, my stepsister Maude’s boyfriend.

He must be a masochist to spend so much time with her. Definitely a glutton for punishment, that’s for sure.

I lay my dress across the ironing board and turn the iron to a low setting. I’ve had to squirrel away money for months to afford this gown. Sure, it’s not designer like my stepsisters and stepmother will be wearing, but I love it. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever owned. A silk skirt that falls to the floor. A pale blue color that enhances my eyes. An intricate ivory-and-blue lace top with beading and crystals.

Waiting for the iron to heat up, I sit on the floor in front of my mirror to finish my makeup. The mirror was a miraculous find by the side of the road. Why someone would throw it out when there was nothing wrong other than it being outdated is crazy to me. Everyone wants something shiny and new now.

A loud knock lands on the door, and my eyebrow pencil shoots off toward my temple. My stepmother, Louise, walks into my attic room, not bothering to wait for my permission.

There’s no sense making a fuss about her intrusion. If I complain, she’ll rant and rave about how this estate became hers the minute my father died and how lucky I am that she has allowed me to live here for the past decade.

“What’s all this?” She eyes the dress like a snake eyeing its prey and slithers over to the ironing board.

“My dress for the charity event tonight.” I rub the eyebrow pencil markings and apply my blush. “Don’t worry, I didn’t use the money that I contribute to the household to pay for it. I saved my own money to buy it. It wasn’t expensive.”

I continue to work on my makeup, trying to appear casual, not wanting to look at her directly. The smallest things set her off and send her into a rage. I tread lightly after all the times her rages have resulted in me bearing bruises.

In the reflection of my peripheral vision, she turns away from her inspection of the dress and faces me.

“Dear sweet Cinder, you don’t really think you’re coming with us tonight, do you?” Her laughter echoes through the sparse space. Nothing good ever comes from her cackling as though I’m an idiot. “This is Maude’s big night, not yours. She thinks Nero might propose.”

“That’s why I want to go. To wish her my best and celebrate with everyone.” Lie.

I hate my stepsisters as much as I hate the gray-haired woman in front of me. The only reason I remain in this home is because the estate holds so many happy memories from my childhood with my father and mother, when she was alive. Until Louise sank her claws into my father. This home is the only one I’ve ever known, and I can’t imagine living anywhere else.

The real reason I want to go tonight is because I’ve never been to a ball. I want to mingle and dance and feel pretty and just be outside of my regular life for a few hours. I don’t want to be Cinder who strips at the club and slings drinks at a dive bar only to hand over her money to her stepmom in order to keep the estate going. I want to be the woman I am inside my head. A woman with hopes and dreams, who looks toward the future with excitement and curiosity.

“You expect me to believe that?” Louise scoffs. “You’re probably seething with jealousy that she’s landed a Voss brother. You don’t wish her well any more than I wish you were my biological daughter.”

Her words are a slap across the face, and a stark reminder of how alone I am in the world since my father passed.

“I won’t be any trouble, I promise.” I hate the begging note in my voice, but I’m desperate to have this one night to fuel my dreams for years to come.

“You won’t be trouble because you aren’t going.”

Tears build in the corners of my eyes, although I try with everything in me to not reveal the hurt she causes me. The woman gets off on me begging, and this is the one occasion I’m willing to give her what she wants.

“Please, Louise.” I put my hands in a prayer pose.

She rolls her eyes. “When was the last time you washed the draperies? If you get it done, and there’s time after, you can join us.”

My shoulders sag. There’s no way all the draperies will fit in our machine at the same time, which means loads of laundry and hours of work.

“I’ll never be able to finish in time.”

“There’re always complaints coming from your mouth. Fine, come then, but I want those draperies done tomorrow before you go work your shift at that deplorable place.”

I bolt up. “Oh, thank you so much!” My excitement dies when tendrils of smoke rise up behind her. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” She slowly turns toward the ironing board.

I rush around her and gasp. The iron lies flat on the front of my dress, smoke billowing out.

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