Page 6 of Cinderella and the Daddy
"Wait, that's all you're going to?—"
The door shuts. The lock clicks.
I'm alone.
I stand there for a full minute, staring at the closed door. This has to be some elaborate prank. But he doesn’t come back.
I sink onto the edge of the bed and look around my cell.
None of this makes sense.
I get up and start pacing. From the window to the door and back again. My work boots are silent on the thick Persian rug.
Why am I here? What does Luka Markovic want with me?
The missing payment. That has to be it. I've heard enough whispered conversations through my earbuds to piece together that Charles owes money to some very dangerous people. Big money. The kind that gets you disappeared when you can't pay it back.
But why take me? I'm not family. Not really. Just some stray Charles picked up when the state needed a place to dump me. I don't have access to any money. I can barely afford groceries most months.
Unless I'm collateral.
Charles traded me to settle his debt. His foster daughter for whatever he owes the Russian mob.
"Fucking coward," I mutter to the empty room.
I shouldn't be surprised. Charles has never put me first. Never put me anywhere but last. Why would he change now?
“Joke’s on you, asshole,” I say to the closed door. “I’m not worth five dollars to them.”
It would be funny if it weren’t so dire.
I'm not chained, but I might as well be. Those two simple rules—don't leave, don't lie—they're a leash I can't slip.
I know enough about what happens to people who break Luka Markovic's rules. I saw what he did to Drew. And now I’m here.
For how long?
How much money does Charles owe?
Is it money?
I walk to the door and try the handle. Shocker—it doesn’t open.
I walk back to the wall and stare out the window. There’s an L-shaped pool to the left. A huge, covered patio area and another covered walkway that disappears into the trees.
I can see a tall fence, which tells me the entire place is probably fenced in.
A prison.
Two hours later, a knock breaks the silence.
The lock clicks. Luka fills the doorway, still handsome and still in control, though he's lost the jacket he wore earlier. The black dress shirt is rolled up at the sleeves, revealing strong forearms.
"Dinner. Now."
I look up from where I've been sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed. "I'm not hungry."
"I said now."
