Collaring Cinderella

by Isabella Starling

  I reached the house and slammed the front door behind me. Right away, a feeling of dread filled me. If Martha heard me running around like that, there’d be hell to pay.

  But the little cottage was silent, the calmness of it telling me my stepmother wasn’t home. Maybe she’d gone into the city to pick something up—either way, I was all alone and grateful for it.

  I collapsed on the other side of the door, my back sliding down the wood and my lips parting to let out a big sigh.

  I couldn’t believe what I’d just let myself do. What I’d let him do…

  My first kiss.

  The one I’d been saving for so, so long, and now it was all gone, taken by a stranger while I let myself fall apart in his arms, just for him. How could I do it? How could I let him have the special moment I’d been saving my whole life? How could I have been so careless?

  The answer was right in front of me, but I didn’t want to see it.

  What Rafael did to me, the way he made me feel… My body like putty in his arms, my mind telling me to do anything he told me, just so I could please him. It was like all I wanted was to follow his orders, to do what he said, to submit to him completely. And the butterflies he’d given me were still fluttering in my stomach, beating their wings and promising something magical, something I’d never had before.

  I groaned to myself and picked myself up. I was smoothing down my shirt when I heard a knock on the door, and my whole body froze in anticipation.

  Surely it wasn’t him? He wouldn’t come around so soon, would he?

  My stomach doubled over with anxiety and hope, and I tucked my hair behind my ears before opening the front door wide.

  “Hello, dear.”

  Now, my tummy dropped with relief and sadness, and I smiled at Edna standing in front of me, fidgeting with her hands in fluffy mittens.

  “Hello!” I said happily, stepping aside. “Come in, you must be freezing out there.”

  “The wicked stepmother isn’t home then?” she giggled, and I smiled at her.

  “Gone out to the city, I think,” I told her, and we exchanged a warm hug as she walked inside, bringing in the scent of firewood and a promise of snow. “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, I just wanted to bring you some carrot cake.” She gave me a sneaky little smile, bringing out a wicker basket from her cape and walking over to the kitchen.

  I followed closely behind and helped her unload what she’d brought over for me.

  “This isn’t just carrot cake, Edna,” I giggled. “You’ve brought way too much!”

  “Nonsense,” she said with a grin. “I know that stepmother of yours doesn’t feed you enough. You’re all skin and bones.”

  “Not really,” I grimaced. “My butt’s enormous, and I need a new bra… again.”

  “Well, nothing wrong with that,” she winked at me, and I giggled. “Here, put this cheese in the fridge while I make us a cup of tea. We’ll start a fire and talk, how about that? If Martha’s gone to the city, she shouldn’t be back at least for a few more hours.”

  I put everything away while she put the kettle on, and before long, we both had a steaming cup of Breakfast Tea in front of us. I put on the fire and covered Edna’s legs with a thick knitted blanket, and she relaxed in the armchair in front of the fire. By the time I was done, I had soot all over my hands, but I didn’t mind. I loved these stolen moments. Edna was like the grandmother I’d never had.

  Edna Morgan lived right next door. I’d only met her a couple of months ago when Martha moved us to the grounds, but our connection was instant. Edna used to be the Goldwyn’s nanny, and she’d raised Rafael mostly by herself. His mother was a famous actress and left his father months after having a baby. After that, Edna cared for Rafe like he was her own child.

  Edna came over to bring us cupcakes when we moved in, and luckily, I’d been home alone. We became fast friends over a cup of tea—we shared a love for all things British—and her homemade snickerdoodle cookies. I hadn’t known any of my grandparents, and I’d been feeling lonely since I’d lost my father. With Martha’s cold attitude, I couldn’t hope for any parental advice, but Edna was amazing. She made me feel like I had a place in the world, and a purpose as well.

  And on top of that, she was a totally kickass woman.

  She’d been a Vegas showgirl for most of her life, and she had the most amazing wardrobe filled with the kind of gowns I’d only seen on TV and in magazines before. They were all sparkly, with feathers and skintight fabrics that left nothing to the imagination. Sometimes I went over to her cottage, and Edna let me try on ridiculous outfits that made me feel like I was really a grown up, even with my virginity still intact.

  Edna loved it. She’d never had children of her own, even though she’d had plenty of relationships. But after her Las Vegas years, she came into the employment of Mr. Goldwyn, and she worked for him until her retirement. She always spoke of the Goldwyn family fondly, which only served to spark my curiosity. But Edna didn’t know about my growing obsession with Rafael. No, I’d kept that private, too afraid of her mocking me if she found out… or even worse, telling my stepmother, who didn’t need another excuse to punish me and make me feel worthless.

  I wrapped my fingers around the cup of tea in my hands and peeked over at Edna.

  “You have something to tell me, don’t you?” she asked and I giggled out loud. She knew me so well.

  “I might have… met someone today,” I said, deciding not to tell her every little detail. “He’s… something else.”

  “A man?” she asked, hurriedly setting her cup down and giving me a sneaky look. “Go on, tell me everything. I want to know what happened.”

  “I ran into him today,” I said, trying to avoid the details as much as possible. “He’s… different . Not like the guys at school. Older. Sexy. Oh, I don’t know.”

  “Come on,” she laughed. “Did he make you feel all fluttery?”

  “Yes,” I admitted reluctantly. “Butterflies, just like you told me about.”

  She gave me a wise little nod and sipped her tea.

  “I knew it would happen eventually,” she said simply. “And what troubles you now, Ella? Are you worried your stepmother will find out?”

  “Of course,” I said with a sigh. “She would never let me be around him. You know how she reacts every time I want to do something by myself… Go to a party, do anything but chores. She hates it.”

  “You have to stand on your own two feet someday, Ella,” Edna told me, knitting her eyebrows together in worry. “I want you to be independent. Martha doesn’t own you.”

  “I know,” I said miserably. “I know, it’s just that…”

  We both flinched when we heard the front door opening. I was out of the chair in seconds, folding Edna’s blanket and placing it perfectly on the sofa. Edna rushed to the kitchen to wash our mugs, and I fidgeted nervously in the living room, terrified of Martha’s reaction. She hated Edna without ever really giving a real reason for it. I always thought she just hated me having a friend.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  Her sharp voice cut through the room like a knife, and I stepped in front of Edna. She was a brave woman, and she’d gone through many hardships in her life, but when Martha was around, she seemed to cower in fear, and I hated it.

  “I’m just having a friend over,” I told Martha, and she rolled her eyes.

  “You don’t have friends, Ella,” she said viciously. “An old lady who lives on the same land isn’t a friend.”

  I bit back my reply and watched Martha storm through the kitchen, leaving shopping bags in her wake.

  “Make sure she leaves now,” she called out behind her. “And take out the trash while you’re at it.”

  I winced at the harshness of her words, but Edna patted my back. “Don’t worry,” she said with a weak smile. “I’ve dealt with bitches like her my whole life.”

  “Edna!” I giggled in surprise. She wasn’t really one to cu
ss.

  “I tell it like it is,” she grinned. “By the way, before I leave… I brought you something.”

  She made me stretch my palm out and placed something light and papery in it. I looked down to find a wad of cash.

  “Edna!” I said in shock. “What is this?”

  “I know you want to get away from her,” she said. “And I just wanted to help you along. This house is too small for you, Ella. You need to get away.”

  “I… I don’t know what to say,” I mumbled. “But I really can’t accept this, Edna. It’s just too much!”

  “You can, and you will,” she insisted. “And I want to play a part if your story, even if it is a small one.”

  My eyes watered but she hushed me and left the house. I watched her walk down the path as the sky turned midnight blue, and I knew that no matter what Martha said, Edna was the best friend I’d ever had.

  But the money felt heavy in my hand, and I stashed it down the front of my top so Martha wouldn’t notice. But that wasn’t the only reason I was nervous.

  Things had been so different a mere few hours ago, when I hadn’t gone into the mansion, hadn’t met Rafe Goldwyn in the flesh. That morning, I knew I was going to leave the small sleepy town we lived in, and walk away not regretting anything. But now, here I was, with Rafe on my mind and my heart beating with a new purpose.

  A few hours ago, walking away seemed like the easiest thing to do.

  But now, I felt like invisible strings tied me to the house… and pulled me towards the mansion.

  Towards him .

  P RINCESS ELLA WAS PERMANENTLY ON my mind, etched into my skin, her taste a fresh memory on my lips.

  I couldn’t think of anything else. I spent the next few days trying to distract myself from her, deliberately avoiding the areas where I knew she’d be working with her stepmother. I couldn’t face her again, especially with Martha around. And I had a whole slew of other problems that needed my attention, even though Ella was first and foremost on my mind.

  My father had requested to speak to me, and I knew I had to honor his wish.

  His name—Alvin Goldwyn—was a synonym for power.

  My father had inherited the family jeweler business and brought it to its former glory. He had no artistic abilities of his own, but he employed only the very best and made the company flourish. Under his supervision, the Goldwyns went from being millionaires to billionaires, and the family fund grew larger and larger. But none of it helped.

  He pined after my mother for years after she’d left us, as opposed to myself—I was done with her the second I realized she’d left me for a life of glamour and glitz. Dad wasn’t like that, though. He had truly loved her, and her departure had left a mark on him as well as our relationship.

  He never blamed me for her leaving outright, but I knew in the back of my mind he believed it was my fault. If they hadn’t had a son, she would have stayed. But on the other hand, who would inherit the family fortune? My father had wanted a child his whole life, and having only one son was a sore spot for him. He still loved me, I knew that. Even so, the weight of what my mother had done lay heavily upon us.

  And the worst part was, I didn’t know how much time I’d have to make things right between us.

  Dad was sick. Very, very sick, in fact. The doctors had only given him a couple of months, and the end of those was drawing near. They’d told us he’d be lucky to see the New Year, and the thought of it made me panic.

  I was old enough to take care of my own shit. Thirty-five, able to handle anything life threw at me. I couldn’t imagine losing my father, though. He was a rock, a sounding stone, and a much-needed friend. And I had no idea what I would do in a world where he didn’t have my back.

  He was staying at his home. He’d left the mansion to me ten years ago when I secured my first billion in the company. Now, he lived in a house just as luxurious as the old family manor, about a half-hour drive away.

  I was thinking about anything and everything as my driver took me to see Dad. But first and foremost, sweet princess Ella was on my mind, playing the main role just like she had been for days.

  I couldn’t forget the way she tasted. The irresistible sweetness that took over anything and everything when it met my tongue. God, I was already fucking falling for her, and I’d only seen the girl once.

  We pulled up in front of the house, and I instructed the driver to wait for me before heading inside.

  A nurse opened the front door, a sharp reminder of what my father’s life had turned into.

  I followed her up the stairs and into the study. Dad sat at his desk stubbornly, even though his illness had turned him into a shell of the man he used to be.

  He was rail-thin, his skeleton-like body even more striking because he was just as tall as I was. His hair was gone from the chemotherapy, and growing back in tufts. He had been a very handsome man, and that much was still obvious from his features. But even so, the fact that he was sick was painfully clear.

  “Rafe,” he said warmly, attempting to get up from his chair to greet me.

  I rushed towards him, making him sit back down.

  “Hello,” I said with a warm smile, sitting across from him at his desk. “No need to get up, Dad. I don’t have a lot of time. Why did you want to see me?”

  We’d already made plans for the following day, so his message to meet him had come as a bit of a surprise. I wondered what the occasion was.

  “I wanted to discuss something with you,” he said heavily, and I leaned forward in my chair to listen. “We both know I’m sick. We also know I don’t have a lot of time left.”

  “Dad…” I said lamely, but he raised his hand in the air, not wanting me to go on.

  “It’s okay, son,” he said bravely. “I’ve come to terms with what’s going to happen to me. But I do have a wish. One final thing I want before I leave this world for the next one.”

  “Yes,” I said eagerly. “What is it? You know I’m happy to help.”

  I wondered what he wanted. Perhaps one last chance to find my mother, make things right with her.

  “I want to see you settle down,” he said, and I stared at him, waiting for my old man to go on. “I would like to see you with a nice girl, someone from a good family, a kind woman who will love you even without your money. I’d like to see you married before I go, son.”

  “Married?” I repeated, dumbfounded. “But Dad, I don’t even have a woman I’m dating at the moment.”

  “I know,” he said, giving me a long knowing look. “That’s part of the problem, Rafe. You’ve been a serial dater, but you haven’t settled down for longer than a few weeks at a time. And now I’d like to see it happen.”

  “You’re asking for a lot,” I managed to get out.

  “I know there isn’t a lot of time,” Dad said simply. “But this is my wish. And I want to be able to leave you all this… Goldwyn. The jewels. Everything… I want to know you have a woman behind you to help you when times are rough. I’d like to know there will be heirs to the family fortune… That you are happy.”

  “I am happy,” I said, and he shook his head at me, giving me another of his knowing looks.

  “Are you really, Rafael?” he asked me. “Can you honestly, truly say to me that you are happy?”

  I thought of her. Princess Ella. The long hair, dainty fingers, the tiny waist. God, yes.

  “I could be,” I finally replied, her image fresh in my mind.

  “I know,” my father went on. “I know you could be. And I’d like to see it happen before I’m gone. I would like you to hold a ball… A Christmas ball at the house.”

  “Why?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

  “To meet your woman, of course,” Dad laughed. “You can invite anyone you want. And I’ll make sure it’s the party of the year.”

  “I… would like that,” I said, Images of Ella in a stunning dress flooding my mind.

  It would be the perfect opportunity to convince her I was serious a
bout her. How badly I wanted her, to make her mine, to make her submit. Maybe, if the party was elaborate enough, she would let me have her. And I’d truly be happy, just like my father wanted.

  “I’m happy to hear that,” Dad smiled at me. “Let’s schedule it for Christmas Eve. I’ll try to be there, if…”

  His sentence hung unfinished in the air, both of us knowing what he’d meant.

  If he’d still be around.

  It fucking hurt so badly every time I got a reminder that he was mortal, just like all of us. And not just mortal, but so much closer to the other side than I was.

  “You will be there,” I told him. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  By the time I got home, the butler was waiting for me.

  I grinned at the sight of him, and Jennings gave me a small nod to tell me his mission had been accomplished.

  “Good job,” I said gingerly, patting him on the back. “What did you find out?”

  We sat down in my study, and Jennings brought out a manila envelope, passing it to me. I had to fight the urge to rip it open. I’d only requested one thing from him, and I already knew what was inside. But it felt wrong to open it right there, in front of Jennings. I was going to wait until he was gone, and I could enjoy my new possession in peace.

  “Not too much that you didn’t know already,” he went on. “Miss Monroe doesn’t seem to like her very much.”

  “I noticed,” I grunted. I hated the thought of someone not liking my girl, and what’s more, I didn’t understand it at all. “Why do you think that is?”

  “Same reason as always,” Jennings shrugged. “Jealousy. Miss Ella is younger, beautiful. Of course, there is a certain degree of jealousy there, and probably resentment for being left with a stepdaughter so soon after marrying her father. I assume things aren’t great for young Ella at home.”

  “I see,” I replied. “I’m sorry to hear that. What are you basing this information on?”

  “Well,” Jennings fidgeted nervously. “When I was there, I heard them arguing, just before they left. I say arguing, but really it was Miss Monroe shouting at Ella, about something trivial. She doesn’t seem like a great motherly figure to the young girl.”