Stroke of Midnight (Cinderella 1)

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

My eyes are bloodshot and burning but I obey him. His smile is handsome. Terrifying, but handsome. He pets my hair like I’m an injured kitten. Violent intent gleams in his dark orbs.

“W-Why are you here?” I whisper.

“I’m your new best friend.” He chuckles. “Your new buddy, Leo.”

“I won’t sleep with you,” I hiss, glowering at him.

He smirks. “Trust me. I don’t want to sleep with Constantine leftovers. I do, however, want to give you something.”

“What?”

“Silence.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Because you’re but a scared little girl,” Leo explains. “Which is why you need your brothers to keep quiet about what they found on your phone.” He wiggles said phone and pushes it into his shirt pocket. “My silence can be bought.”

“Winston has enough money,” I throw back. “Name your price.”

“We have a negotiator on our hands,” he drawls out, amused by my tone. “Some things are priceless.” He tugs at a wet strand of my hair. “I don’t want Winston’s money, I want his mind. And you, girl, are going to get inside it. I want answers. When I come to you with questions, I’ll expect you to get me those answers.”

Divulging Winston’s secrets, personal life, and business dealings to a Morelli is the ultimate betrayal. One I’d never willingly follow through on.

“And if I don’t,” I challenge, hugging the towel around me.

“I’ll do more than embarrass you, my sweet thing.” His grin is sinister. “I’ll mortify Winston Constantine and his entire family name.”

He would die.

His mother would too.

And poor Perry.

There’s enough stuff on my phone to cause the biggest scandal New York City has ever seen. I’m not even sure half of what we’ve done is even legal.

Crap.

I have to be smart about this. I can’t just challenge one of this city’s biggest monsters without repercussions to myself and everyone around me.

I’ll need to think like a Constantine.

Leo Morelli may think I’m a weak, bullied little girl who’ll obey his harsh commands, but he’s wrong. I’m not as weak as I may seem, especially in my destroyed form at the moment.

“I have one condition,” I murmur.

“Only one?”

“Let me make a phone call. Now.”

His brow arches. “You think your Prince Charming is going to save you if you can just reach him?”

He’s a villain, not a prince.

But I’m not calling him. I refuse to set Winston off on his birthday in front of all those people and his family just so he can fall right into the Morelli trap.

No, I have other plans.

“Those are my terms.”

“If you spill this conversation to him,” he growls as he stands and begins pacing my room, “I will send those videos to every news outlet in the world. Your future will be over.”

I study the monstrous man. His jaw clenches, and his dark eyes flash with . . . something. Unease. Nervousness. Fear. It’s so brief you almost miss it. Most people are probably afraid to look this man in his eyes and don’t see the emotions he clearly likes to keep hidden.

I see them all.

A villain isn’t always terrible and cruel and frightening. Sometimes they’re vulnerable and soft and gentle. I only know this because my heart is falling for one.

I see you, Leo Morelli, whether you like it or not.

“Stay true to your word, and I’ll stay true to mine.” I sit up and toss the towel off me as I fish through my wallet for a certain business card. “Let me make the call.”

He pulls out my phone, standing close so he can watch me. The phone no longer requires a lock code, which means Scout already changed that feature. If Leo wasn’t breathing down my neck, I’d change it or delete the photos or something. Instead, I make my call.

“Hello?”

“Perry, please come pick me up. I need a ride to the ball.”

Silence and then, “Is everything okay?”

“I had a dress mishap. Would your sisters happen to have an extra?”

There’s no way in hell I will allow the Terror Triplets the satisfaction of going to Winston’s birthday bash thinking they have the upper hand and that they won.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Hurry,” I croak out. “I’ll text you my address.”

“I’m on my way.”

Leo takes my phone and shuts it off before pocketing it again. He studies me, his body rippling with power. Finally, he pats me on top of the head. “Don’t make me ruin your life, because I won’t even blink while destroying everything. This may be about Constantine, but I will take you down in a heartbeat. Are we clear?”

“Crystal clear.”

He walks over to my jar of cherry Starburst and grabs a handful before pocketing them. “I’ll be in touch, Miss Elliott. Very soon.” He stalks out of my room without a backwards glance.

They’ve taken my money, my phone, and my laptop. I’ve been left destroyed and threatened into submission. There’s not a happy ending to this story.