Destroyed Destiny (Crowne Point 4)

She gasped. “That was hundreds of years old.”

“So are a lot of things that need to be broken…”

She set the broken crown on the vanity, and then we moved to the dress hanging in the window. It was made of silver and sparkling tulle like stardust. It looked a little bit like the first dress Grayson had ever bought for me.

To my left, on the vanity, the broken crown sparkled, refracting the overcast light from the window. My past, present, and future swirled around.

Servant. Snitch. Cinderella. Stepsister Slut. Was I ever just Story?

“What do they say about her now?”

“Miss?” she asked absently, fiddling with the bow at my back.

“The Cinderella, what does the story say about her now?”

Her fingers paused for a moment, before she continued. “In some versions, she was a servant who fell in love with the heir at Crowne Hall, but he was mean and cruel, and the du Lac man saved her by making her his mistress. In others, it’s reversed. The heir fell in love with her, but he was betrothed.”

She told me all the different versions, all bits and pieces of reality, but none the actual truth. It was like it had become…corrupted.

“And they think it’s me?”

“I think at this point we all pretend we’re the Cinderella. It’s like a fairy tale to us.”

“This is my life. I’m not a fairy tale,” I whispered. “I’m a real person.”

“You said you weren’t her, miss.”

Our eyes met in the window.

“Where is the tiara?”

We both turned at the voice. West wore a simple black tux, but it fit him perfectly. His bow tie was the same glittery material as my dress, and I wanted to rip it from his neck.

She curtsied for West, then quickly left the room.

“It broke in transit,” I said.

His eyes narrowed. “It’s survived three revolutions and two world wars, but it couldn’t survive one afternoon with you?”

I shrugged. The muscle in his jaw ticked, like he was trying to suppress a smile. His eyes dragged down my body.

Starting at my eyes, down my neck, lingering on my stomach.

He rubbed his jaw. “Do you know why people kiss on New Year’s?”

I didn’t, but my gut did that thing, that West thing, where I felt like I was about to step into a trap. So I stayed quiet.

He smiled, and held out his arm to me. “I’ll be sure to tell you later tonight.”

GRAY

Night had fallen on Crowne Hall, and I waited for Story to come down to the party. Yachts had docked off our private beach, each one filled with its own private debauchery. Later tonight, they’d go off into international waters, where laws wouldn’t apply to them.

Those yachts were fucking dangerous.

The triplets still hadn’t left. Across the ballroom, they watched me.

For the first time in over a decade, I had the strangest urge to go and talk to them. They would have to go back to school soon as they went to a similar boarding school as I had, and it was year-round. After the new year, they’d be gone.