Cinderella and Her Three Knights

Ella’s POVThe car didn’t feel like transportation.It felt like transition.The engine purred softly beneath us, smooth and expensive, as if it knew it was carrying something fragile. I stared out through the tinted glass, watching the city blur past—shops opening for the day, people crossing streets, life moving forward without me.This was the last place where everything still made sense.“Miss Monroe,” the man beside me said at last, his voice calm and perfectly neutral. “We’re nearly there. The Chairman requests your cooperation.”I swallowed. “The man I helped… he’s really—”“Mr. Henry Blackwood,” he finished. “Yes.”I nodded slowly. I was twenty-two years old, legally an adult, but suddenly I felt very small. Power had a way of shrinking everything around it.The gates appeared without warning—tall, dark, impenetrable. They opened silently, and the car slipped through as if invited. Beyond them, the estate unfolded like something unreal. Steel and glass. Water features that shi

Ella's POVMy heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic, trapped bird. The sounds, those sounds, were coming from behind the heavy mahogany door of the room I had approached. It was a symphony of something else entirely—breathy moans, the rhythmic, wet slap of flesh on flesh, and a low, guttural growl I recognized, even in its rawest state, as Lucian’s."You should not be here. You should turn around. Go back to your room." I told myself.But my feet, treacherous things, carried me forward.The door was ajar, just a sliver. A sliver wide enough to shatter my entire world.And what a world it was.Lucian was there, in the center of the room, a god holding court. And he was not alone. Two women, breathtakingly beautiful and utterly naked, were with him. One, a redhead with skin like cream, was on her hands and knees before him, his hand fisted in her fiery hair as he guided her mouth onto his cock. And what a cock. My breath hitched. I’d never seen one so… formidable. It was thick an

Ella’s POVThe house didn’t sleep.I learned that quickly.Even past midnight, the estate breathed—soft footsteps in distant halls, doors opening and closing, murmured voices slipping through walls like secrets that didn’t want to stay hidden. It was a living thing. Watching. Listening.I lay awake long after Lucian left, staring at the ceiling, my body still humming with the echo of his presence. Not because of what he did—but because of what he didn’t do.That was the cruelest part.I replayed it over and over, trying to find the moment where I could have stopped it sooner, spoken stronger, pushed harder. But the truth sat heavy in my chest.I hadn’t wanted him to stop.That realization unsettled me more than his arrogance ever could.By morning, exhaustion pressed behind my eyes. I dressed slowly, choosing simple clothes—nothing that invited attention. I told myself I was doing it for comfort, but deep down I knew it was armor.When I stepped into the hallway, the estate felt diffe

Ella’s POVThe figure in the doorway leaned casually against the frame, sunlight catching the gold in his hair. His grin was wide, confident, infuriatingly easy.“Ella Monroe,” he said again, voice rich and playful, filling the room as if it belonged to him. “I heard there’s a new face in the house. And here you are.”I blinked. Julian’s hand tightened briefly against mine before he released it, his calm presence a tether.Adrian’s jaw clenched slightly. “Evan,” he said, controlled but sharp.Evan pushed himself off the doorframe, stepping forward with exaggerated carelessness. “Finally! I’ve been waiting two days to meet the infamous Ella. Where’s my favorite brother, Lucian? He’s supposed to be here when there’s a new person.”Julian’s voice was low and steady. “Lucian hasn’t been home in two days.”“Two days?” Evan gasped theatrically, hands pressed to his chest. “Abandoning the house? That’s unacceptable!” He glanced at me, grin softening into mischief. “And you—what’s your role i

Ella’s POVI stood outside Adrian’s door longer than I meant to.The hallway was quiet, thick with that strange early-morning stillness that made every sound feel louder than it should. My hand hovered near the wood, heart beating faster than the hour deserved.Three thirty-seven a.m.I raised my knuckles and knocked.“Come in,” Adrian’s voice called, calm and even.I opened the door and stepped inside.His room was immaculate. Too neat for someone who slept in it. The bed was made, the lights were low but deliberate, casting a warm glow instead of shadows. Adrian stood near the dresser, sleeves of his shirt rolled up, jacket already laid out.“Close the door,” he said casually.I did.He turned to face me, eyes sharp, assessing. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”“You said it was urgent,” I replied.“It is,” he said, then smiled faintly. “But not in the way you’re imagining.”I wasn’t imagining anything. That was the problem.He walked past me, close enough that I felt the shift in a