Stroke of Midnight (Cinderella 1)

“I can dress myself,” I grumble. I don’t have much to say about the rest of her bitchy monologue. She’s only been somewhat nice to me lately because she wants in good with Winston’s family. It saddens me to think Dad thinks Winston is just using me for sex.

But he is, isn’t he?

I push those thoughts away. Winston and I have something budding. Something I desperately want to have. We may have found ourselves in this thing through money and exchange of power, but it’s already evolving, especially after last night.

With an annoyed huff, I yank off my dress and toss it on the bed. Spinning around, I hold out my hand for her to give me the evening gown. Her critical gaze sweeps down over my undergarments, no doubt judging the way I can’t fill out a bra the way her designer tits can. When she gasps, I roll my eyes. I’m sure she’ll say I need liposuction or some other equally demeaning thing.

“What is wrong with you?”

I look down and read the words written on my stomach. Oh crap. Embarrassment licks over my flesh like fire.

“It’s just a game we played,” I blurt out.

“Your games are going to destroy our family,” she snarls. “I’m disgusted, Ash. Well and truly disgusted.”

“Winston’s not, and that’s all you seem to care about,” I snap back. “I can dress myself.”

She storms out of my room, once again slamming the door. I calm my shaking hand and then pull on my dress and accessories. It takes some acrobatics, but I manage to get my dress zipped up. Once I decide I’ll be Winston’s worthy date, I grab my camera and snap a few pictures to send to him. He doesn’t reply, which means he’s busy with the photoshoot.

“You pissed Mom off,” a dark voice rumbles.

Whirling around, I glare as Scout enters the room followed by his matching monster clones. They’re all dressed in tuxedos, filling out the material like grown men. In another world, a girl would grow weak in the knees at seeing them like this—handsome and dressed to the nines. My knees are weak for a whole other reason.

Fear.

“Get out of my room,” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest. “Now.”

Sully walks over to my jewelry box and runs his finger along the top. “Nah, we’re here to babysit you per Mom.”

“She was so mad, she made Baron drive her to the party,” Sparrow reveals as he closes the door behind him. “That means you’re stuck riding in the limo with us.”

“I’ll take an Uber before I ride with you morons,” I hiss. “Get the fuck out of my room.”

“And let you get away with it?” Scout asks, his voice cold.

“With what?” I demand.

“Screwing us out of Harvard.” Scout cracks his neck. “When Mom finds out what you made your boyfriend do, she’s going to destroy you.”

My blood runs cold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

What did Winston do?

“Holy shit,” Sully says, peeking inside the jewelry box and ending all talk of Harvard. “There’s a lot of cash in here.”

“Don’t touch it,” I bark out.

He pockets the money and laughs. “Already did. Finders keepers.”

Scout approaches me, and I take several steps back. He picks up my phone, holding it out to me. “Unlock it.”

“No.”

“Don’t test me, sis,” Scout growls, his eyes nearly black with evil intent. “Unlock the fucking phone.”

“Why?” I screech, my voice quivering.

“Mom says you’re a paid whore,” Sparrow says, digging through my bag and retrieving my laptop. “Are you?”

“Don’t touch my stuff!” I start for Sparrow to take my laptop, but Scout grabs my wrist in his brutal grip.

“Let him do his big brother job and check up on you.” Scout gives me a shove toward Sully who wraps his arms around my body, trapping my arms.

“Let me go!” I kick my legs out to no avail.

“What’s your password?” Sparrow asks.

“Fuck you.”

Scout kneels in front of me and grabs my hand. I cry out when he presses my finger to my phone. It unlocks. Just. Like. That.

“Don’t,” I plead.

Scout rises as he begins perusing through my phone. “Oh, sis, you really fucked up.”

Tears well, but I fight them back. “It’s none of your business.”

“Our sister being a fucking prostitute is every bit our business,” Scout snarls. “You’re a sick bitch. Holy shit.”

I do start to cry when I hear my moans. Winston’s cruel words. The whip of the belt. My screams. Sully is hard, his dick pressing into my ass and Sparrow has joined Scout to watch the video.

“He pays you to have sex with him,” Scout says, his voice deceptively calm. “Tell Sparrow your password so he can look at your account.”

“What are you going to do?” I ask through my tears.

“See just how much our sister’s cunt is worth.”

“Then what?” I demand.

“Depends on you.” Scout’s eyes darken with lust. “My silence can be . . . negotiated.”