Page 113 of Cinderella Is Faking It

I’d expected to mourn him more, but despite being brothers, it had been a long time since we’d been family.Brothers firsthad been our mother’s words over and over again, until the word ‘brother’ had lost all meaning. The Julian who had held my hand while our parents threw books and vases at each other, who lay in the twin bed next to mine at Casa de Camila while our father and grandfather argued business, who spent countless nights sleeping at the dining table with me - that Julian had been long gone.

Once that was settled, Brody and I moved into an apartment halfway between her house and mine. My place had been too small, but there was no way in hell I was moving into Julian’s rooms. Movers had us packed and unpacked in the span of two days, and then life just continued.

I had meetings from dusk till dawn to tie up the embezzlement, and Brody was prepping to go back to school and stayed with friends more than I probably should have allowed but I wasn’t her goddamn father.

11 nights and I spent every single one reliving that moment. The slap. Delilah’s bloodied hand striking my cheek with enough fervor to make my head snap. The hurt in her glazed ocean eyes.

I’d sent flowers and letters to the hospital. Sent her another notebook, since the first one had burned in the car crash. I’d even sent her a first edition of Emma, hoping that Mr. Knightley would be enough to at least get her to pick up the phone, but the box came back the next day.

If she’d just let me explain.

On the 12th night, I realized that I could be facing my last chance to ever see her again if I didn’t want to stalk her at home or at her workplace, so I put on the ivory suit I’d gotten tailored weeks ago, and I went to the last event Cordelia Montgomery had RSVP’d ‘yes’ to.

The White Ball was a gaudy excuse for people to pretend they cared about the ‘no white after Labor Day’ rule. The ballroom was decked in white orchids, crystals, and gauzy fabrics, while the people sipped their white wines and martinis. As far as social events went, balls were still preferable to any alternative. If you went to a ball, you brought a date, and you danced. Which kept the socializing to a minimum. Not that I didn’t feel their stares or saw them leaning into each other to whisper their hushed opinions about my family - but nobody approached me as I sat in my chair near the front of the stage and nursed my whiskey until they finally got to the opening speech.

An older woman rambled on about traditions and the long history of the ball, before finally ending on the words: “And now, I’m pleased to welcome our guest of honor, Cordelia Montgomery.”

The room erupted into cheers. A silver white gown swept over the stage. Delicate shoulders, gold hair swept into an updo, red lips. Wrong Cordelia. I saw a few people exchange glances at the front tables, but from afar Cordelia and Delilah looked eerily alike.

“Thank you for having me,” Cordelia said, her voice clear and coldly melodic like a wind chime, none of the warmth and bubbly energy that carried Del’s every word. “My name is Cordelia Montgomery, and I’m sure some of you are confused by my appearance because I look a little different from the Cordelia Montgomery many of you have met over the last few weeks. I will get to that in a second. Most of you know that I have not left my house in 15 years, since my mother, Theresa, was murdered.” Her knuckles turned white around the podium as she steadied herself. “What you may not know is that I was kidnapped that day and held for ransom. My mother’s life was taken as a means to an end, to show that my life, too, was disposable if my father didn’t pay my kidnappers. My mother’s life wasn’t worth a cent. My life was priced at twenty million dollars because I was born a Montgomery. That is why, to this day, leaving my house gives me panic attacks. I just had one backstage, and I’m sure I’ll have another one once I step off the stage.”

She took a trembling breath but the whole audience was hanging onto her every word. “Earlier this year, my father died and left his entire legacy to me, but most of his assets were tied up in probate up until a few days ago. During the last six months, I was fighting tooth and nail to make our stakeholders see that I was capable of running his company without leaving my house. For a lot of people, including many in attendance today, that wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t rubbing shoulders with the right people, shaking hands with them, or even dating the right people.” Her eyes found mine across the room without searching. She’d done her homework on the seating chart. “So, I gave my name to my sister, who wasn’t born a Montgomery.” A low murmur passed through the crowd, but Cordelia continued unfazed. “A lot of you metthatCordelia, liked her, and invited her to your parties. You saw her date a powerful man, and you saw her wear exclusive designer clothes. And even though nothing changed in the way I handled the Montgomery business, stakeholders were appeased and I was taken more seriously in every phone conference.”

She swallowed, and worked her jaw, and her eyes flitted to the side of the stage. Yelchin stood in the shadows, arms crossed, nodding at her. “I’m sorry to have deceived many of you, but I’m more sorry that I was pushed to go that far because it’s further proof that a capitalist company is not able to protect those of us who require health and safety accommodations, not even at the executive top. That is why I am proud to announce today’s birth of the Theresa Montgomery foundation to prevent violence against women, and help survivors of violence, abuse and exploitation, abduction and human trafficking.” A few people started to clap, but Cordelia didn’t give them more than a breath for their reaction, pushing through her speech. “I am proud to announce that, in my mother’s name, I have dissolved my father’s company as I am striving for my legacy to have social, not monetary value. Thank you.”

The second she stepped away from the podium, I was moving.

The ballroom had fallen silent, but neither Cordelia nor I were waiting around for people’s reactions. I swung myself up on stage and followed her through a side door.

My steps faltered when I entered the smaller, vacant event room with its chairs tucked in and its lights dimmed, and Del was right there. She had her arms wrapped around a trembling Cordelia, rubbing soothing circles into her back with the hand that wasn’t still in a blue cast. She was in denim shorts that revealed the paling bruises on her legs, and an oversized t-shirt, and any woman in a white ball gown still paled against her.

“Get out.” Victor stepped into my line of sight, causing both girls to swivel in my direction. Del’s eyes widened a fraction, but the rest of her face was schooled into a stoic mask that didn’t look anything like her.

“Just give me one minute.”

Victor glanced over his shoulder and Del shook her head. “That’s a no.”

“What the fuck are you even still doing here, Yelchin?” I tried to push past him, but the second my hand connected with his shoulder, the bastard twisted it around and kicked my leg out. I fell to my knees, but the pain striking through my bones had nothing on the ache in my chest caused by Delilah’s unblinking, empty eyes on me.

“I suggest you turn around, go back to being everyone’s favorite most eligible bachelor, and forget you ever laid eyes on Delilah Edwards.” Victor’s warning rumbled close to my ear.

I could have fought him off. He was broader than me, but I’d watched dozens of his fights. I knew his moves. I knew how he left the right side of his chin exposed when he kicked out. I also knew about the injury that had taken him out of the ring a couple of years ago. Back then, I’d expected him to go work for his family - not find an actual job. He might even be out of practice, improving my chances… I just doubted that knocking him unconscious would earn me any points with Del. But she was right there, and this was possibly my last chance.

“I didn’t know he was going to-” A fist slammed into my jaw, whipping my head aside. Copper taste exploded in my mouth. I didn’t even look at Victor. “Julian didn’t-” another hit followed, and blood speckled the lapels of my new suit.

“Let’s go,” Cordelia hissed and wrapped her arm around Delilah, pulling her to the door.

“Wait.” Del stopped, hand on Cordelia’s arm as she turned and found my gaze.

My chest spluttered at the tinge of warmth that flitted into her mask. “Brody?”

“She doesn’t know. It’s better that way.” I spat the blood coating my tongue onto the pristine, polished marble. The sarcastic asshole in the back of my mind reminded me that we’d discussed what Brody should or shouldn’t know just a few weeks ago. And I was once again on the side of keeping her in the dark. “She’s safe, and she’s strong. She’ll get through it.”

“I think so, too.” Delilah nodded, her mask slipping back into place before she turned and left with Cordelia.

My thoughts hadn’t caught up with me yet when another hit caught me in the jaw and pummeled me sideways. “The first ones were for the girls. This one was from me,” Victor said. “Stay the fuck away from my family.”

The way he said it left little doubt that he didn’t mean the family that shared his last name. “Hey, Yelchin,” I called after him. A bitter laugh wrecked my chest as I pushed myself back to my feet. “You should come to the Vortex some time. If you ever want to get back into the ring.”

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