Page 57 of Cinderella and the Daddy
Iwatch Luka come into the room, my skin still damp from the shower, goosebumps rising despite the warm air. The towel suddenly feels like tissue paper—too thin, too small, offering no protection from the intensity radiating off him.
His gaze rakes over me, dark and hungry, and for one breathless moment, I think he's going to close the distance between us. To claim me the way his body is screaming to do. Instead, he pivots sharply toward the vodka decanter, his movements jerky with barely leashed control.
The crystal stopper clinks too loudly in the silence. He doesn't bother with a glass; he just tips the bottle back and takes a long pull. When he lowers it, his Adam's apple works as he swallows, and I find myself mesmerized by that simple motion.
He starts pacing like a caged predator, each turn revealing the tension coiled in his shoulders, the way his fists clench and unclench at his sides.
“Where have you been?” he asks. “Have any of my guards touched you? Have you left that necklace anywhere? Could a housekeeper have gotten their hands on it?”
I know what he’s asking, and I’m relieved. He believes it wasn’t me.
Thank God.
My mind races backward through every interaction, every moment someone could have gotten close enough to plant that tiny piece of surveillance technology. The transmitter was no bigger than a grain of rice.
None of the guards has ever been that close to me.
They are all very respectful and keep their distance. The housekeepers don’t touch me. I take the necklace off when I shower, but only Luka has ever invaded my privacy.
That leaves Leo. And we know he couldn’t do it.
“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Luka. I swear, I don’t know.”
“Think, Cindy!”
I shake my head and replay every move.
And then it hits me.
"The pharmacy," I say, my voice hollow. "When I went for... tampons." The lie tastes bitter now, knowing what I was really there for. "Anna was there. I thought it was strange she just happened to be there. I was pretty sure she followed me somehow. She hugged me. She was playing with the necklace, touching it."
But even as I say it, I know it goes deeper than that encounter. Anna doesn't have the resources for military-grade surveillance equipment. Which means she's working for someone else.
“Oh God,” I groan. “Since then?”
“I suspect.”
“I always wear that necklace, Luka. Always. Even when I sleep. When we…”
“I know.”
How many private moments and intimate conversations have been broadcast to whoever's pulling Anna's strings? Leo. I’ve exposed that little boy in so many different ways.
The nausea hits without warning, a wave of sickness so intense it nearly brings me to my knees. My stomach lurches, and suddenly I'm staggering toward the bathroom, one hand pressed to my mouth as bile rises in my throat.
"Cindy!" Luka moves fast, caging me against the doorframe, his hands on my shoulders, trying to steady me. "What's wrong?"
"Don't touch me." The words come out harsher than I meant. I shove him away with both hands. "Just... don't."
It's not him I'm rejecting—it's the violation. It’s the knowledge that every precious moment we’ve shared and every moment of intimacy has been observed by strangers.
And then another thought occurs.
They know about the pregnancy tests hidden in the bathroom. Did Anna watch me pick up the tests? And then watch as I took them? The necklace would have allowed her to see the results.
They know I’m pregnant.
I walk out of the bedroom and head down the hall to my bedroom.
