Belonging to Them (Cinderella’s Daddies #4)

Chapter 1

ONE

Ella

Hands shaking, I read the note again.

You owe us. Don’t try to get out of it.

Tell someone, and your brother dies.

The cleaning supplies closet feels too small all of a sudden, like I can’t get enough air. This…this can’t be real, can it? Is Tommy really in trouble?

I think back to the last conversation we had. He was going away, but he wouldn’t say where. He hadn’t sounded like he was in distress; he’d only sounded angry.

Angry at me.

I thought I was enforcing boundaries, but maybe I was being a shitty sister.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I try calling him. It goes straight to voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me,” I say. “I got this note…can you call me back, please? I’m freaking out.”

I end the call and text him next. Call me. It’s important . Then I stare at the screen for a long moment, waiting. Nothing happens, except the sound of footsteps behind me.

“Ms. Marchand?” Terrence says. “Is everything okay?”

Tell someone, and your brother dies .

I fold the note quickly and tuck it into my pocket. I don’t turn around to look at Terrence, afraid that he’ll see the terror on my face. Instead, I busy myself with straightening the supplies on my cart. “Yes, everything’s fine.”

Thankfully, he doesn’t question me further.

I clean the halls of Dorado Terrace in a daze.

Several times, I have to go over certain areas a second time with the vacuum or dust rag because I missed entire sections.

Squid, my other guard, gives me the occasional curious look.

Terrence doesn’t seem bothered by my absentmindedness at all.

He really does carry a sadness about him.

If I weren’t so worried about my brother, maybe I would be able to worry about my bodyguard. As it is, all I can do is worry about Tommy. Who would’ve sent this message?

The people who attacked me and Natasha in that alley, most likely. Tommy probably owes them money, because he is, in a word, sick. He has an addiction.

The framed abstract art in front of my face blurs as my eyes fill with tears. Tommy has a gambling addiction, and he’s gotten himself in more trouble than ever. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to save him from this.

And I can’t tell anyone about it?

I try calling Tommy again. It goes straight to voicemail. I don’t leave a message this time. I don’t even know what to say anymore.

I keep the note in my pocket and finish up the day’s work. Terrence and Squid drive me back to Sebastian’s place, where he and King and I are supposed to spend the night. When I get there, neither of the guys is home yet, so I play in the studio for a few hours, trying to lose myself in music.

Your hand

Cups my cheek

Softly, softly

My secrets

Scratch beneath the skin

Breaking the trust

Shredding the peace

How will I ever confess

So much can go wrong

When I am not strong

And standing

On the knife’s edge

Of eternity.

I add creeping, slinky music to the lyrics, twisting the notes together in a way so that the melody supports the theme of secrets and standing on the edge of disaster.

I don’t know exactly if it works or not, but at least the puzzle of it has me setting aside the threatening message I left in my maid uniform.

I need to do something about that note so it doesn’t go through the wash. Someday, it might be needed as evidence or something, I don’t know. All I really want to do is crumple it up and throw it into a fire.

I put everything away in the studio and go to the bedroom where I left my uniform. After fishing the note out of the pocket, I look around for a good hiding spot.

This is ridiculous. I hate this. I hate secrets like this. So much of what went wrong with Joel back in January was because of secrets—mostly his, but still.

Sebastian’s voice carries from the door. “Ella?”

I jam the note into my purse, feeling icky. “Yeah? Hi!”

“Hey.” He pokes his head into the bedroom. “How was your day?”

“It was okay.” Terrible. Fucking awful.

His hazel eyes narrow, like he can see through my lie. He probably can.

So I paste a bright smile on my face and say, “Okay, it wasn’t the best day, but it’s better now that you’re home.”

Tugging me into his arms, he says, “All right, princess. I’m here. There’s something I need to talk to you about, though. I might go on a trip, and it would take me away from you for a few days.”

“A trip? When are you leaving?” I ask.

“Next Thursday.”

Threading my hands through his hair, I say, “Well, I guess we’ll just have to make the most of this week, right?”

He grins. “Definitely.”

“Where are you going, anyway?”

His grin grows wider. “Well, Church of Fortune is playing in Vegas next week, and they want me to collaborate with them on a few sets.”

“That’s amazing!” I pull his face down to mine for a kiss. “Congratulations. This means you’re going to be touring again?”

“That’s what Helena thinks is best,” he says.

“Then I’m happy for you.” And I truly am.

“Do you want to come with me?” he asks. “I know it’s selfish, because you’d probably be bored while I’m working with Pat and her crew. And how many times do you want to attend the same show, but…”

“I would, but I have to work,” I say. “I just took off a week—I don’t want to leave Melinda scrambling to cover my shifts again.”

Sighing, he kisses me and says, “I get it. If anything changes, let me know. I’ll fly you out in a heartbeat, and every spare minute—there wouldn’t be much, to be fair—would be spent with you.”

“Fly her out where?” a deep voice asks from behind him.

“Kingston!” I exclaim, looking past Sebastian’s shoulder.

Sebastian lets me go and gives me a light spank as I pull Kingston in for a hug.

“I’m going to Vegas next week to do some shows with Church of Fortune,” Sebastian explains.

Kingston frowns. “When are you leaving?”

“Thursday.”

“Shit,” Kingston says.

“What?”

I look between them. Shouldn’t Kingston be happy for Sebastian?

“I’m going to Sacramento next week for a business symposium,” Kingston says. “I can cancel it?—”

“You will do no such thing,” I say. It’s sweet and touching that he doesn’t want me to be alone, but I can’t handle the thought of them missing out on events to stay home with me.

“I’m a big girl, I can spend a few days on my own.

Just because we play that you’re my daddies doesn’t mean I need a caregiver twenty-four-seven. ”

“But your nightmares—” Sebastian starts.

“I’m sure I can call one of you if I need to talk,” I say. “Schrodinger can keep me company here, and I’ll still have my bodyguards for the day-to-day stuff.”

The nightmares have been bad, ever since Joel kidnapped me. But I think they’re getting better.

Both of the men look unsure, so I take their hands.

“Besides,” I say, “absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?”

“And the dick grow harder,” Sebastian says, pulling my hand toward the front of his pants.

I whirl away with a laugh.

“Where do you think you’re going, little brat?” he asks.

“Somewhere you can’t catch me.” And then I race to the bedroom.

* * *

Sebastian

Kingston and I follow her into the bedroom and look around.

Ella’s nowhere in sight. My suitcase is still open on the floor because I’ve barely been home since we got back from Mirarosa and I didn’t feel like putting things away this morning when I stopped in to hang out with Schrodinger—last night we stayed at Kingston’s place.

One of these days we’re going to have to consolidate, and all three of us will live together.

I’ll think about that later. Right now, King and I have a little girl to catch.

He points to the closet, and I point to the bed. Nodding at each other, we each check at the same time—Kingston throwing open the walk-in closet door, and me lifting the comforter that drapes over the bed frame.

A faint giggle comes from behind me—the en suite bathroom.

The bathroom door slams shut and I hear the unmistakable sound of the lock being turned.

When I glance over at King to see his reaction, he only looks amused, with the corner of his mouth twitching.

I’m not amused, though.

“She’s testing us,” I say.

He shrugs. “So we show her what happens to little girls who test our limits.”

“Ella,” I say, raising my voice so she can hear me clearly in the bathroom, “you have two choices. You can come out of there on your own volition and be punished for disrespecting your daddies. Or you can make us come and get you…and be punished double for not only disrespecting us, but disobeying.”

Kingston leans against the foot of the bed, waiting, while I stand directly in front of the bathroom door.

I say, “You get to the count of three. One…two…”

The lock clicks and the door swings open. Ella stands there, not meeting my gaze. She looks so young and innocent in her t-shirt and cut-off denim shorts. But despite the t-shirt being oversized, her womanly form is still very much apparent.

She’s my little princess, but she’s still a woman. Which is the point she was trying to make earlier, about staying back while Kingston and I go on our trips.

“Go to my dresser,” I say to her. “Second drawer.”

Her eyes go wide and meet mine. She’s seen what’s in that second drawer before—we spent an hour exploring my toy collection, a few weeks ago.

“Daddy?” she says.

“Go.” My voice is low. I’m not going to be swayed.

On unsteady legs, she walks past me and opens the dresser drawer.

“Pick out a paddle,” I say.

She peruses the drawer’s contents, then looks over her shoulder at Kingston. “Can Daddy Kingston help me pick?”

“If he wants to,” I say.

“What’s in it for me?” Kingston drawls.

“A blowjob?” Ella suggests.

He shakes his head. “I get to fuck your ass after Sebastian turns it red.”

She rolls her lips between her teeth. “That’s so dirty, Daddy. But okay.”

“Show me the options,” he says.