Page 86 of Cinderella and the Daddy
Even injured and exhausted, he's magnificent. He’s deadly grace wrapped in blood-soaked clothing.
I love him.
I knew I loved him, but now it’s a soul-deep feeling.
Later, after everything is settled, I'm going to think about why I just jumped the guy in a fucking closet minutes after he saved me from certain death. Right now, all that matters is staying alive long enough to have that conversation.
We round a corner, and I see them.
Drew is crouched behind an overturned table, frantically trying to reload what looks like the same gun he used to terrorize me an hour ago. His hands are shaking—whether from fear or adrenaline, I can't tell. He keeps fumbling the magazine, cursing under his breath with each failed attempt.
Did he really think he was just going to murder me or sell me off and face no consequences?
Yes. That’s exactly what he thought. That was how he moved through life. He did whatever he wanted. He was a cruel man who was never held accountable.
Luka is about to do exactly that.
Anna stands a few feet away, blood smeared on her cheek, her perfect hair a tangled mess. Her designer clothes are torn and filthy, but even disheveled, she still carries herself with that insufferable arrogance. She's always believed she was untouchable, protected by charm and beauty.
She's about to learn how wrong she is.
Drew stands and aims his gun at Luka. Anna does the same, pulling a small pistol from her jacket.
I panic for a split second. Drew or Anna. Two targets, two threats. I don't know what to do.
Thankfully, I don’t have to make a decision.
The first shot takes Drew center mass, spinning him around and sending him crashing into the wall behind him. The second follows a heartbeat later, punching through his chest with a wet sound that makes my stomach lurch.
My brother—my tormentor, my nightmare, my family—slides down the concrete wall and hits the floor with a sound like a sack of wet cement. Blood spreads beneath him in a dark pool. His eyes stare sightlessly at the ceiling, finally, blessedly silent.
I should feel something. Grief, maybe. Or satisfaction. Or at least some kind of closure after all these years of him making my life hell.
Instead, I feelnothing. Just a vast space where fear used to live.
"Drew!" Anna's scream pierces the smoke-filled air, raw and desperate. For a moment, her mask slips completely. I see something I've never seen before—genuine emotion. Genuine loss.
She loved him. Despite everything, despite all the poison and cruelty and casual violence, she actually loved him. They were twins, after all.
The revelation should make me feel sorry for her. It doesn't.
"You killed him," she whispers, dropping to her knees beside Drew's body. Her hands flutter over his chest, coming away red. "You actually killed him."
"He pointed a gun at my woman," Luka says, his voice flat and emotionless. "What did you think would happen?"
Anna looks up at him, mascara streaking down her cheeks in black rivulets. But underneath the tears, I can see her mind working, calculating. Even in grief, she's looking for an angle, a way to turn this to her advantage.
"You don't understand," she says, climbing slowly to her feet. "You can't understand. This is so much bigger than you know."
Luka's gun never wavers from its target. "Enlighten me."
Anna laughs, a sound like breaking glass. "Did you really think this was just about a debt?”
"You have no idea who you're really working for,” Luka replies calmly.
"I know exactly who I'm working for. You just fucked up. You just killed one of Kozlov's people."
I frown, looking from Luka to Anna. Luka's posture changes, becoming more alert. Whatever that means, it's significant.
