Page 109 of Cinderella Is Faking It

Julian raised an unimpressed brow and shook the dirt off his leather shoe. “Didn’t I tell you to go to sleep?”

“Has nobody ever taught you how to treat a lady?” I countered, slowly stepping forward. I had no plan other than keeping him talking to keep the gun down.

“Lady? Her?” He swiveled out of his chair and waved his gun in the general direction of Cordelia. “That’s rich coming from you. Weren’t you pretending to be her?”

“Is that what this is about? You’re pissed because you didn’t get to meet the real Cordelia Montgomery?”

“Please,” he grunted. “I’m glad you replaced her. I doubt the real Cordelia would have dropped her panties within three weeks of meeting my brother. She might actually be more of a lady than you are. You barely hesitated to dump your precious boyfriend, so Beck can finger your little cunt inherliving room. You’re going to be much easier to handle than that frigid ice princess.”

What did you tell him about me?

I told him fucking nothing. You’re mine.

My stomach flipped, but I pushed all thoughts of Beck aside. I could try to make sense of that later. When there wasn’t a gun in the room. Cordelia’s split lip quivered. “What happened to you?” she asked in the moment of silence.

“Car accident. What’s going on here?”

“Oh, you know. He wants to wine and dine me, rape me, kill me, and makeyouthe only real Cordelia.”

“Busy schedule, Julian, huh?” The gun whacked me in the face faster than I could react, and I stumbled, falling back over the drink cart. Whiskey and Tequila soaked my nightgown. I struggled to push myself back to my feet, vision spinning and tears shooting up at the sharp stench of alcohol.

“Go back to your room Delilah. Beck will come check on you in the morning. At least we can now all stop pretending.”

“Pretending?” I blinked and blinked but my vision remained blurred. I reached up to stop my brain from whirring in my skull and my hand came back bloody.

“Oh dear, you really are as blonde as you look, huh?”

“Julian, what the fuck?” Beck’s voice droned from the door.

“Oh good, there you are. You can catch your future wife up on our plans. Didn’t happen to bring the engagement ring, did you?”

“Delilah belongs in a hospital.” There it was. My name. On his lips. I could hardly make him out beyond vague shapes and colors, but his voice was crystal. He stepped past his brother and then his arms were around me to pull me to my feet, and for a moment that was so easy. His scent. His warmth. But reality washed over me in a cold wave.

“Don’t touch me,” I hissed, struggling to break out of his arms without falling over.

“You’re bleeding. You need to see a doctor.” He wouldn’t let go, and his arms were too much, because Julian was right there. And he was taunting me, because I was weak and naive, and Beck… Beck knew who I was.

“Stop,” I winced, and Beck froze, letting me stumble for Cordelia’s chair, which had to be enough support until the world stopped spinning.

The room was silent for a moment before Julian’s grating voice piped up again. “Cordelia, dearest -realCordelia, that is - why don’t you tellfakeCordelia why you wanted her to go out with August Beckett?”

“Good press,” Cordelia replied, short and to the point. “Good for the image.”

“I’m not stupid,” I pressed out, closing my eyes because my stomach was starting to rile up against the spinning room.

“Beck, care to fill in the blanks?”

“Julian, why the fuck is Delilah not in the hospital?”

“If I didn’t dissolve the company, I would have to take over as the owner,” Cordelia cut in, “my father’s papers are airtight. The Montgomery business stays in the Montgomery family. Dating Beck was good for the image, because even the idea ofAugust Beckettmarrying into the Montgomery family put stakeholders at ease. Until I could move forward with the foundation.”

“Stays in the Montgomery family,” I repeated. Julian’s words from before clicked. Get married. Pop out a child. Die. Daddy dearest. “So you planned to marry Cordelia?” I blinked against the room that was getting way too bright, pointing my finger at Beck, then back at me. “But I was officially Cordelia.”

“Yes,” Beck said.

“You would have married me while I pretended to be Cordelia?”

“Yes.”

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