Page 110 of Cinderella Is Faking It

“Well, at least the ‘waiting at the altar’ comment makes sense now. I just- I-” I toppled over, the contents of my stomach shooting up my throat.

“I’m taking you back to the hospital,” Beck’s arms were there, and I was still heaving, unable to tell him to get off me. Instead, I fumbled for Cordelia’s bound hands, folding my fingers around hers. Even if her voice had been steady through all this, she was trembling and locked her hand tight around mine once we touched.

“When old Montgomery died, I really was going to let you play this out, Beck, but then I realized we weren’t the only ones in this game. You really should have gotten her pregnant. It would have been such a quick solution. It was never Beckett vs. Montgomery. It was Beckett vs. Yelchin with the Montgomery name as the prize.”

“Leave Victor out of this,” Cordelia hissed, harsher than I’d ever heard her. “You want my name? You can have it. I’ll marry either one of you right now.”

“Too late.” Julian shrugged. “His family picked him up right after he got Delilah released from the hospital for me. He really thought he was hiding, huh? They only let him stay here for this long because they knew how valuable of an assetyouwere. It cost me quite a bit to get them to pull him off, but he was just never going to leave your side.”

My whirring brain was struggling to keep up. Whoever wanted the Montgomery fortune had to marry into the family. Beck had planned to marry Cordelia-me. And Victor’s family had planned for him to marry Cordelia-Cordelia? Or something. So, Julian had Victor taken out of the equation?! God, that was screwed up.

“We’re leaving,” Beck said in an authoritative tone.

“I’m not going anywhere without Cordelia,” I gasped, wiping the sour taste from my mouth with the back of my hand, “and I’m not going anywhere with you.” I shot Beck a withering glare, or at least hoped I did. Everything was still so blurry. But he was right next to me, holding me upright when my knees were struggling to do the same. “Get off me,” I muttered, well aware that I would drop to the ground if he did, “stop.”

“Fuck, Julian, at least get a first aid kit before she loses any more blood.”

“I said, stop.” I tried to push against Beck. He’d played me. He’d gotten close to me because he wanted Cordelia’s inheritance. “I say stop, you stop.”

“Del, not now. You need help.”

“I say stop, you stop,” I repeated, my voice dying in my throat as I wavered on my feet.

“Julian. Now.”

“Jesus fuck. Always so dramatic. She’ll live. You don’t need her to be fully functioning to marry her,” Julian moaned but angled for the door. A bitter laugh crept up my throat, because who the hell washecalling dramatic? My laugh died a moment later, when three muffled mechanical blows pierced the air, followed by the thump of a body hitting the ground.Julianhitting the ground.

Beck’s arms stiffened around me.

“He sure likes the sound of his own voice.”

“Victor,” Cordelia gasped, her hand jerking around mine.

“See? This is what happens when you start messing with my family.” Victor stepped through the open door of the winter garden. I felt his eyes more than I could discern them. His hands wove through mine and Cordelia’s as he started untying her. “Delilah, you look like shit.”

“Thanks,” I huffed, a tired grin pushing against my lips.

“Let’s get you out of here, Blondie,” Beck said and wrapped an arm around the back of my knees, ready to sweep me up.

I slapped him across the cheek with whatever strength I still had. The sharp sound stilled the room. “I told you to stop touching me.”

“Cordelia?” Victor asked.

“I’m fine.”

“I’ll take Del,” Victor said, and I wrapped my arm around his neck the second he was close enough, “clean up your mess, Beckett.”

FORTY-FIVE

The daysin the hospital blurred past as I drifted in and out of a deep, exhausted sleep. Victor was there a lot. Tabitha and Defne visited. But I rarely had the energy and brain space to talk to them. I barely even had the energy to process everything that had happened the day of the car accident.

I didn’t hear from Beck besides flowers and chocolates being delivered to my hospital room. I gave all of it to the nurses.

Victor just said I didn’t have to worry about the Becketts anymore. Not to worry was his standard answer, no matter what question I asked.

Was he really tied to organized crime?Don’t worry about it.

What had happened to Julian?You shouldn’t worry about him.

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