Stealing Cinderella Read online

  Stealing Cinderella

  THE SINISTER FAIRYTALES COLLECTION

  A. Zavarelli

  Contents

  Disclaimer

  Glossary of Terms

  Prologue

  1. Ella

  2. Thorsen

  3. Thorsen

  4. Ella

  5. Thorsen

  6. Thorsen

  7. Ella

  8. Ella

  9. Thorsen

  10. Ella

  11. Thorsen

  12. Thorsen

  13. Ella

  14. Thorsen

  15. Thorsen

  16. Ella

  17. Thorsen

  18. Thorsen

  19. Ella

  20. Thorsen

  21. Ella

  22. Thorsen

  23. Ella

  24. Thorsen

  25. Thorsen

  26. Ella

  27. Thorsen

  28. Ella

  29. Ella

  30. Thorsen

  31. Ella

  32. Thorsen

  33. Thorsen

  34. Thorsen

  35. Ella

  36. Thorsen

  37. Thorsen

  Epilogue

  BOOKS by A. ZAVARELLI

  About the Author

  STEALING CINDERELLA © 2020 A. Zavarelli

  Cover Design by Dee Garcia

  Edited by Jenny Sims

  * * *

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Disclaimer

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Glossary of Terms

  Akevitt- A Norwegian Spirit

  Mor- Mother

  Min Gudinne- My Goddess

  Prologue

  Ella

  “Where are we going, Papa?”

  He squeezes my hand in his as we walk alongside a bustling London street. All around us, there are new sights and smells and sounds. A double-decker bus whizzes by, and a group of women in heels scurries past as they rush to catch it. England is so different from the tiny village in France where I come from, and I want to absorb every detail while I can.

  “I promised you we would explore the city.” He smiles down at me. “Now we’re here, so let’s explore.”

  “It’s getting late.” Narcissa glances at her watch, her eyebrows pinching together. “And it’s a long ride back to Kent. We should call the driver soon.”

  “Ahh, but I dismissed the driver for the evening.” My father offers me a mischievous wink. “Ella wants to take the train.”

  “The train?” my stepsisters cry out in unison. “You’ve got to be joking.”

  Even though they don’t seem to have the same sense of adventure, I can’t help admiring the girls as they go on to discount all the reasons we should avoid a train. With their posh British accents and smart red dresses, they remind me of the Parisian fashionistas on TV.

  Magnolia’s hair is long and dark while Lavinia’s is blonde like mine. But theirs contradict my wild curls by flowing like a silky river over their dainty shoulders. Their skin is fair and smooth, complexions Narcissa insists they maintain by avoiding the sun. It’s easy to see they take after their mother, who I’ve already decided is the most beautiful of all. Even more stunning than the actresses from the old French films my father used to watch.

  Narcissa is tall and willowy with a grace I could only ever hope to possess, and I often find myself imitating her accent when she’s not around. It’s not difficult to see why my father fell in love with her. Whenever she looks at him, his eyes shine with admiration for her. But whenever she looks at me, her eyes fade to pools of black, and I shrink back into my invisible shell.

  “Henri.” Narcissa pouts. “The train is filthy. It’s been such a lovely evening in the city. Let’s not spoil it with this silly nonsense.”

  My father glances down at me, and the smile slips from my face. I do want to ride the train, but I also want to make my stepmother happy because it seems as if I never do.

  When my father moved us from the only village I’d ever known to make a home with Narcissa and her daughters, he said it would be our grandest adventure yet. But so far, I have not managed to find my place within the family.

  Narcissa is the queen of our household, shopping and primping to keep herself beautiful at all times. And my father is the king because he makes all the money to support us. Magnolia and Lavinia are definitely the princesses with their lavish wardrobes and lofty aspirations. But when it comes to me, nothing makes me particularly special or notable, and truthfully, I’m not really sure where I fit in.

  “It’s one train ride,” my father insists, urging us forward. “A little adventure will be good for all of us.”

  Behind my father’s back, Narcissa’s icy gaze slips to me, and it chills me to the bone. Turning my attention to the pavement, I focus on the cracks as we trudge on. The smell of kebab shops and hot fries lingers in the air, and even though we just ate, my stomach rumbles for more. Someday, I want to try those restaurants too. As we get closer to the train station, those smells disappear, and a quiet stillness settles over the group as my father directs us to the ticket station and then to the platform.

  “It’s freezing up here,” Lavinia wails. “Do we have to wait outside?”

  “Are you sure the train even comes this late?” Narcissa peers around the empty platform uncertainly.

  The conversation that follows fades away as I study the Overground map, checking off all the places we’ll stop on the way back to Cranbrook. A thrill shoots through my veins as I consider what the train will look like inside. Perhaps like one of my father’s old movies where everyone is dressed in fancy clothing, the men carrying their briefcases and the women in those funny hats. Papa and I never had any reason to take the train back in France, but now that we live in England, he promises we’ll take it often to see the places around us.

  Papa’s voice sneaks back into my consciousness as he appears at my side, and I’m on the verge of pointing out some of the stops when he grabs me by the arm and shoves me behind him. My heart thrashes like crazy when I feel the tremor in his grip. Instinctively, I know something is wrong before I tune back into my senses, and everything blasts me all at once, like radio static.

  “Just give us your wallet and the jewelry, and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Papa?” I peek around his arm and then freeze when my gaze collides with the two men standing in front of us, blades drawn.

  “Here, take it.” My father fishes his wallet out of his trousers and tosses it onto the platform.

  “The watch too.” One of the guys uses his blade to point at my father’s wrist. “And ladies, you can start taking off that jewelry any second now.”

  “Not my engagement ring!” Narcissa protests as she stares at my father.

  “It’s okay,” Papa assures her. “Just give the men what they want so they can be on their way.”

  Lavinia and Magnolia shed tears as they discard their matching gold bracelets into the heap that’s accumulating on the platform. Narcissa is equally teary-eyed as she delicately sets her ring on top of my father’s wallet.

  “Now, the little girl.” One of the men steps toward us, and my father pushes me back.

  “She doesn’t have anything. We’ve given you what we’ve got, now please just go.”

/>   “Nah, I don’t think so.” The scary-looking stranger tilts his head, examining me. “We’ll have to see for ourselves.”

  My father shoves me back against the cold metal fence, shielding me with his body as I frantically tuck my necklace beneath the collar of my dress, hoping they won’t spot it. This was the last gift my mother gave to me, and I know that’s why he’s trying to protect it. But as their footsteps slap against the concrete, I consider that there might not be a choice.

  Before I can make that final decision, both men lunge forward at the same time, yanking my father away from me. He doesn’t go without a fight, and when he knocks one of the men down, the other swings straight for his throat.

  Papa stumbles back, coughing and sputtering as he brings his hands up to his throat. A scream pierces the air as he falls back onto the pavement, and it takes my brain a second to understand what that crimson liquid is on his fingers.

  “Papa!” I collapse onto my knees and crawl toward him, terror vibrating through my entire body.

  My limbs are too stiff, and everything seems to be happening so fast. Narcissa is frozen, her eyes unfocused as she watches me slip through my father’s blood. There’s so much of it, and I don’t know how to help him. When I bring my hands to his, warmth oozes from his wound into the crevices of my fingers. His eyes are glazed and weak as I clutch at his shirt, pleading with him.

  “Papa, please be okay! Please, someone, help us!”

  With what little strength he seems to have left, he curls his fingers around mine and offers me a sad, strange smile.

  “I love you, Ella,” he croaks.

  “No!” I cling to him, refusing to believe this is real. He can’t leave me. I won’t let him. But even as I tell him that, his body falls limp beneath me, his head lolling to the side as the life fades from his eyes.

  “Please!” I look at Narcissa, a frantic, desperate energy making my voice too high. “You have to do something!”

  Her trembling hands fall to her sides, and in the span of a few seconds, her face morphs from horror to hatred.

  “I think you’ve done enough for us all, Ella.”

  1

  Ella

  “That’s a good girl, Mabel.” My fingers dance over her glossy black mane. “Look at how far you’ve come.”

  She dips her head and nudges me with her nose, offering me a cheeky little kiss. Mabel is a former racehorse who was abused at the hands of her owners, and when she first arrived at Hilliard, she was so skittish we feared she might never recover. But time and patience have given her space to trust again, and now she spends her days happily lazing around the English countryside. I love to work with her whenever I get the chance, and while I try not to pick favorites, I think I’ve developed a soft spot in my heart for the jet-black Arabian mare.

  “I wish I could stay a little longer, but I have to go.” I nuzzle her face one last time. “Enjoy your dinner.”

  She swishes her tail and turns her attention to the hay as I scurry off through the pasture, counting off the feed stations to make sure I got them all. When I get to the gate, Olivia is already waiting for me, shaking her head with amusement. She’s the owner of Hilliard Animal Sanctuary, and she’s been kind enough to let me volunteer my time here whenever I get a chance to slip away from home.

  “All the other horses are going to get jealous if you keep giving her smooches.” She laughs.

  A grin splits across my face. “I don’t pick favorites, and you know that.”

  “Sure, you don’t.” She smirks. “Try telling that to your shadow.”

  On cue, the tiny kitten appears and paws at my leg to get my attention. Alfred’s just a little ball of gray fluff with the prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, and I’d be lying if I said he hadn’t stolen my heart. When I scoop him up into my arms, he curls against my chest and starts to purr.

  “Any word on the puppies?” I ask.

  Anxiety swirls in Olivia’s eyes as she nods. “The vet wants to keep them for a while longer before he releases them.”

  I scratch Alfred’s ears, contemplating what else I can do to help. A couple of weeks ago, someone dumped a litter of gravely sick puppies at Olivia’s doorstep in the middle of the night. They’ll require a lot of care upfront unless we can find someone willing to adopt them, which seems unlikely. The animals who need more attention rarely get adopted. Olivia is worried about the vet bills, and it’s hard not to feel helpless. It seems like every week someone else is asking her to save another abandoned animal. Meanwhile, the vet is pressuring her to pay off her existing balance before he provides any more care.

  “I have five alteration orders this week,” I tell her. “One of the neighbors bought some dresses that need hemming. I’ll come right over on Sunday and give you whatever I earn from those.”

  “Thank you, Ella.” Her face softens. “I appreciate it, but you better get home now. It’s past four already.”

  “Crap!” I set Alfred down, and he swishes his tail as he meows up at me.

  “You know you don’t have to come here every day.” Olivia studies me with concern. “Not if it’s going to get you into trouble.”

  My chest deflates, and a desperate sorrow unfurls inside me. “This is the only sanctuary I have. If I couldn’t come here—”

  “I know.” She squeezes my shoulder. “And I wouldn’t ever want you to stop. But I don’t want to get you in trouble, and truthfully, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to keep this up.”

  “I’m still trying to get funding,” I insist. “More donations are coming in every week.”

  She placates me with a smile, but deep down, I know the sanctuary is in big trouble. As it stands, we are relying on donations for food to get by from week to week. Not to mention all the other costs involved with running such a vast operation. Olivia has a kind heart, but unfortunately, there are more irresponsible pet owners in this world then there are dollars in her bank account.

  When I look around this place that has become home to so many animals, the thought of it disappearing brings tears to my eyes. If we can’t take care of them, I don’t know what their futures will hold. It’s a bitter fact that many of these babies who have already had such difficult lives will likely end up in places where they’ll be euthanized.

  “We’ll figure something out,” I promise, but my voice cracks. “I’ll write another letter to the royal secretary.”

  “I don’t know what I would do without your help.” Olivia pulls me in for a hug, only to be interrupted by a tiny mew from below.

  “Oh, Alfred.” I reach down and pat him on the head. “I wish I could take you home too. But unfortunately, our visits here will have to do for now.”

  Alfred doesn’t seem to agree, opting to weave between my feet to convince me otherwise. If I had any confidence he could go undetected at the manor, I would take him. But it’s safer for him to stay here for now.

  “You better get home.” Olivia nudges me. “Narcissa is probably coming unglued.”

  I cringe at the very thought. “I don’t know where my head is at lately.”

  “Up in the clouds,” she calls after me as I set out for the path home. “As always.”

  “Where in the bloody hell have you been?” Lavinia snarls as soon as I slip into the entryway.

  “Sorry, I’m late.” I toe off my muddy shoes and leave them by the door, rushing to clear the cups on the table in front of them.

  “Oh, God.” Magnolia waves a hand in front of her face. “You smell like a horse’s ass.”

  “I had to make my own tea!” Lavinia glares at me. “And I’m starving. I want dinner now.”

  “I’ll get it started right away,” I assure them. But before I can get that far, Narcissa appears in the hallway, blocking my path.

  Her eyes roam over me, cold and critical as she shakes her head. “Disappointment. That’s what I should call you. Honestly, Ella, look at you. Roaming the countryside in those rags you call clothes. Do you have no shame?”


  I glance down at the faded jeans I scored from a thrift shop, hoping she doesn’t notice the hole in the knee that I still need to mend. While Narcissa is quick to criticize my wardrobe, she’s even faster in refusing assistance to correct the sad state of my clothing. She squandered every last penny of my father’s life insurance on London’s finest for her and my stepsisters while I’ve made do with scraps of fabric and my mother’s old pieces.

  “I’m sorry.” My head dips under the weight of her scrutiny. There’s no point in arguing. I learned that the hard way. This life is my punishment for taking my father away. I caused his death and ruined all our lives.

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she mimics. “That’s all I ever hear. Do you think I don’t know where you spend all your time? On that godforsaken shamble of a farm with all those critters. You seem to have trouble performing the most basic of tasks here, and I’m starting to wonder if it’s because I’ve given you too much freedom.”

  The cups in my hands wobble as I look up at her, hoping she will just dismiss me. But I’m not so lucky.

  “Perhaps you need a refresher course,” she says. “Is that it? Do I need to forbid you from going there to wake you up to your obligations at home?”