Sam Montgomery A Cinderella Story Novels & Stories

Luna read the note carefully and then looked at the debt collector, his tone was perfect to tell the story, and she was surprised by what he said. "Even though I'm a lender, I also do business fairly. I'm afraid that Vivian taking this money through illegal means will affect me. That's why I let someone investigate her. I didn't expect Vivian to turn from Cinderella into a princess." He smiled happily. "You know, she caught her a goldfish." Placing the paper on the table, she leaned back in her chair. "What do you want?" Adjusting his position in the chair, he leaned forward, holding out ten fingers. "The payment she owes me with ten percent interest."

It was only during the night as I sat by the fireplace feeling the warmth of the cinders, I would truly feel free of all shackles. This was why I was nicknamed Cinderella by everybody around me but Mary would say, “Just because you are called Cinderella does not mean you will marry some prince charming. You are just a cinder; a piece of burnt coal which needs to be disposed off to some waiter washing dishes at Four Seasons”

Dalia’s POV It was already past nine in the morning when Samantha arrived at the mansion to pick me up. She told me the civil ceremony would only take a few minutes, which meant I’d be returning to the mansion immediately after. Of course. It’s not like a wedding reception is waiting for us somewhere, complete with flowers, confetti, and a first dance to a cheesy Ed Sheeran song. Nope. After signing some papers and saying “I do”—or “I guess?”—I’d probably be back in my room, trying to figure out how to play my newest role:

She was clearly pleasantly surprised by all of this yet not swept away by it. Sam turned and spoke suddenly, "You're not Cinderella." Raising an eyebrow, Miranda waited for him to continue. "Cinderella is a damsel in distress who waits for a prince to save her. You're not like that. You would never let yourself be in a vulnerable position. You would break through any predicament and save yourself from distress." Sam curved his lips slightly. "You're not Cinderella. Instead, you're more like Queen Elsa, brave and full of wisdom."

My brother by blood, Eric Wilson, was having an affair. I found out about it. However, I chose not to tell his wife. Instead, I blackmailed him into buying me three luxury handbags.

Donald smiled and just then he caught a glimpse of Hannah who was standing beside Brandon. “And who is this beautiful Damsel?” Donald asked and Brandon turned to Hannah. This was the first time since they arrived that he had taken a good look at her, and he must confess, she was looking so beautiful and shiny. He wondered why she said she needed a change of dress. This woman looks good in any dress she puts on. “This is my wife, Cinderella Mackenzie, and Ella this is Mr. Donald, a friend of mine,” Brandon said and Hannah smiled.

And like a potion, it was something he longed to taste once. He went on reading. ‘The tinkling of mighty penny popped up her cork, she crazily lay in a bed of sins.’ He closed the book. He doesn’t want to read it further. Money is not the only reason why Samantha worked at the Peregrine Club. Sam is a sensible woman. She’s not like other women who pawn their souls to Satan just to live. This proves the woman’s virginity even though she has been working as a dancer at the club for a long time.

"Why don't you just tell me your problem with her?" "Ugh! Problem is a big word. She's just a speck of dust. She's too small but irritating for the eyes. So don't you worry about me, I'm absolutely okey with her," I paused and quaffed a glass of milk. I hope he can smell my sarcasm. "And I don't understand why she's called Cindy? She told me it was a shortcut for Cinderella, a princess in distress but she looks more like a camel than a damsel. Confusing, that's why I never read fairytales, witches had hopes to find a prince charming. So sad," I added, conversationally.

Why was she protecting her father when he was the one who had no qualms about selling a little girl? “May I help you? Are you alright?” Samiul came running towards her after seeing her blood-soiled dress and face. What attracted him was her bare foot. Why would a girl lose her shoes? Was she Cinderella? But Cinderella was never covered in blood, she was covered in cinder. She was Sanguella, covered in blood. “No, I am not!” said Afanasiia. “My name is Samiul Solovev. Come with me. Tell me everything.”

“You’ll say him, won’t you? You won’t allow him die, right?” It was usual seeing her this way. The fire breathing wicked version of Cinderella’s stepmother, was replaced with a woman who looked so timid and fragile, it was a surprise she was the same person. “He won’t die.” Ivory replied. “Everything’s going to go according to plan and he’s going to survive and later, when he wakes up, you both would face your punishment for what you did to my mother.” Samantha’s glare was only subtle, before that fragile and scared side of her came back. “And, you’re sure, that everything will go according to plan?” She asked.