After Midnight : A Modern Day Cinderella Reverse Harem (Modern Day Princess), page 1
AFTER MIDNIGHT
A MODERN DAY CINDERELLA REVERSE HAREM STORY
WYNTER RYAN
Copyright © 2023 by Wynter Ryan
All rights reserved.
Cover Design by Wynter Ryan
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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CONTENTS
Ella
Bran
Ella
Bran
Ella
Rowan
Ella
Cael
Ella
Ella
Ella
Bran
Rowan
Cael
Ella
Bran
Ella
Ella
Ella
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Coming Soon! Bri’s Story
Also by Wynter Ryan
ELLA
Usually, the sound of my pencil scratching the paper as I draw soothes me, but not today. Today there's a nervous energy running through the office.
The intensity was so strong that I fled my desk to the park across the street for a much-needed lunch break, taking my notebook with me.
I close my eyes and tilt my face to the sky, inhaling the smell of fresh-cut grass. I lean against a tree and feel the warm sunshine on my face. I love this time of year—between Summer and Fall when pumpkin spice season is right around the corner.
“That design is amazing!” My notebook is yanked from my lap. I open my eyes to find my best friend, Bri, standing over me, admiring my sketches.
“It’s nothing.” I reach for my notebook, but Bri holds it higher out of my reach.
“Nothing? It’s gorgeous! Have you shown your hot boss this design?” I feel the heat rise in my cheeks. “You haven’t, have you.” She flips through the rest of my designs.
“Bri, he’s a busy man. He doesn't have time to look over my designs.” Believe me. I’ve tried to show him my drawings, and each time he gives me that legendary Charming charm and reminds me not to overreach my position as his assistant.
Yes, my hot boss's name is Philip Charming, and he is, of course, charming. He owns Charming Fashion House with his mother, Madge.
Madge has already been through four husbands and is working on number five.
Handing back my notebook Bri lays down in the grass next to me, closing her eyes, “Well, maybe it’s time for you to find someone who will appreciate your drawings. Hell, your shoe designs might even save the company from bankruptcy if your dumbass boss would realize how good they are and start producing them.”
I’ve heard the rumors surrounding Charming Fashion House, but I had hoped they were wrong. Hundreds of people would be without a job if they went bankrupt. Maybe someone will step in and buy Charming House Designs and use my designs to save the company.
Yeah, right. I need to get my head out of the clouds and concentrate on the job I do have. The list of errands burns a hole in my pocket. I’m an administrative assistant, not a personal assistant, but instead of sitting in on meetings and taking notes, I’m relegated to picking up dry cleaning, washing Mr. Charming's car, and taking his dog on walks with a pooper scooper and baggie. I shudder thinking about his large Saint Bernard, Reginold.
“Are they still having the Charming Annual Masquerade Ball this year?” Bri yawns and stretches her arms over her head, causing her chest to push against her shirt. It’s an unintentional move, but it doesn’t stop the hungry stares from roaming over her body from the guys in the park.
"Yes, it's next Saturday night. You want to be my date?" Bri knows I haven't dated since I broke up with my last boyfriend three years ago. Finding him in bed with my stepsister Ana was a blessing in disguise. I want someone who is totally obsessed with me. Not someone who would throw me over for one of my stepsisters.
“I would, but you know Friday and Saturday nights are my highest-grossing nights at the Palace.” Bri wiggles her hips in the grass before settling in with a sigh.
Ah, yes, the Palace Gentlemen's Club. Bri works nights as a server there. We met in college, but Bri had to drop down to part-time and is still in the program. She is interning at Briarwood Entertainment, conveniently located across the street from Charming Plaza.
She wasn’t one of the lucky ones to get a paid internship, so she waits tables at the Palace to support herself and her grandmother. Between the internship, school, and working at the Palace, I’m not sure when she sleeps.
"Miss Rose, must you roll around in the grass like some common trollop?" I squeak at the stern male voice, relieved to see that his angry glare is focused on Bri, not me.
Bri opens her eyes and blinks up at the man, “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Wicked Witch of the West. Where are your two flying monkeys?”
“You have ten minutes to return to work, Miss Rose, or else.” The man’s low growl vibrates through the air.
“Or else what? Are you and your flying monkeys going to spank me?” Bri leans on her elbows, glaring at the guy.
“Maybe we will.” He stomps off, but not before I hear him mumble something about punishing a brat.
He’s not wrong. Bri is acting like a brat. I’ve never seen this side of her, “Um, who was that guy, Bri?”
She flops back down in the grass, "He's one of my bosses and the world's biggest ass." She grumbles, "But enough about him. What are you going to wear to the Ball?"
“I have some dresses at home. I thought I could piece them together and make my own dress.” I should be embarrassed to admit I don’t have the money to buy a new ballgown. But if anyone understands, it’s Bri. “Besides, I’ll be wearing a mask, so no one will know it’s me.”
Bri nods, “I’m pretty good with a needle and thread. Maybe I can help.”
“Thanks for the offer.” There is no way I will ask Bri to help with my dress. She barely has a spare moment as it is.
“Why aren’t you wearing your glasses today?” Bri cups her hand over her eyes and squints in my direction.
I have such dry eyes that I can’t wear my contacts for very long, but with the Masked Ball coming up, I’m not going to wear my glasses over my mask. “I’m trying to get used to them for the Masked Ball. I keep blinking so much that the poor guy at the deli thought I was flirting with him.” I raise my boring plain ham and cheese sub and bottle of water at Bri.
“Which one, the old guy or the teenager?”
“The teenager.” I blanch. “He called me Ma'am when he handed me the bag.” I take a bite of my sandwich and shrug.
“Oh, that’s rich, Ella. But at twenty-four, you probably look like an old lady to him.” She laughs, a husky sound that has more than one guy staring in our direction.
I roll my eyes and swat at Bri when something catches my eye.
“Bri, isn’t that your boss over there, glaring at you and tapping his watch?” I point to the man standing by the entrance of the park, the same man who was lecturing Bri on her behavior.
“Ugh, I better get back to work. See you tomorrow. Same time, Same place?” Bri leans over and gives me a quick hug.
“Sure, I’ll see you later.” I return her hug, not realizing how starved for human contact I am until she pulls away from me.
I’ve been on my own since I was eighteen when my stepmother kicked me out of the house. My father had passed away the summer before, leaving everything to my stepmother. On my father’s deathbed, he made my stepmother promise to take care of me until I turned eighteen.
So, on my eighteenth birthday, I was turned out onto the streets instead of celebrating with friends and family. It was the only promise my stepmother ever kept. Luckily, I had academic scholarships that covered all my college expenses. And working at the coffee shop wasn’t that bad. It paid for what my scholarships didn’t cover.
A sadness fills me when I think about my father. He was my world. My mother died when I was only five years old, so it was just me and my father against the world for eight years.
We didn’t have much, but we had each other until my father sold one of his shoe patents to a well-known shoe company. It was a simple design, but it revolutionized the production of the shoe-making industry.
With his newfound wealth and widower status, he became a sought-after bachelor and started dating again. While I was happy for him and hoped he would find love with one of the women he was dating, I secretly worried they might not like me.
One day, right after my thirteenth birthday, my father brought home his new wife and her twin daughters. I was so excited to have sisters I let them take my room, and I moved to the attic bedroom. Anything of mine they wanted, I gave them. But the more I gave, the more they took until I had nothing left to give.
By the time I made it back to work, my mind was clouded with sad memories. To make matters worse, Madge and her dog are waiting for me at my desk.
“There you are, Ella. Where have you been? I have been looking all over for you. Pookie needs to go potty.”
It’s not bad enough that I have to walk my boss’s dog, but I have to walk his mom’s dog too.
Philip rushes out of his office, “We don’t have time
“Me? I don’t know the first thing about planning a party.” I jerk back in surprise at Philip’s outburst.
“Must I do everything,” Madge plops down on the corner of my desk with a sigh, Pookie snarling at me. “Philip, what is the point of having an assistant if she can’t assist?”
“Don’t worry, Mother. Ella will take care of everything. Won’t you, Ella?” Philip’s smile almost blinds me as the sun shining through the window bounces off his unnaturally white teeth.
“Um, sure.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Am I excused from my normal duties to plan the Ball?”
A darkness falls over Philip's handsome face, but as soon as it crosses, it's gone, replaced by his usual charm and good looks, "Sorry, Ella, but I still need you to continue with all of your duties, along with planning the Masked Ball." His bottom lip sticks out in a pout, and he tilts his head to the side.
I hold back a grimace.
How did I ever find him attractive?
“Ok, sure, I will take over planning the ball.” I plaster a smile on my face, cursing myself for wanting to have more work-related responsibilities.
“Wonderful,” Madge says in a tone that is anything but sincere. “But first, Pookie needs to go potty.” She shoves her dog at me.
I lift my hands, instinctively taking him from her, and he begins to growl and bark, furiously snapping his little jaws at me.
I hold Pookie as far away from my body as possible and walk toward the elevator.
"Don't forget to take a bag with you," Madge calls after us.
Sighing, I return to my desk and grab one of his poop bags.
"You might want to take a couple." Madge bends down, touching her nose to Pookie's, rubbing it back and forth. "You had a lot to eat this morning. Didn't you, Sweetheart?" she coos.
I can't hold back this time, and my body gives an involuntary shudder.
BRAN
“I don’t think crashing the Charming’s Masked Ball is such a good idea. What if they recognize one of us?” Rowan eyes the required face masks that are laid out on my desk.
“It’s been five years since we last saw them, plus I doubt they think we are the ones behind the hostile takeover.” I could be wrong, but it’s a gamble I’m willing to take.
“Do we really need to take over The Charming House Design Company? Isn’t bankrupting all of your father’s companies revenge enough, Bran?” Rowan picks up one of the masks, bringing it closer to his face.
“Not until everything he created turns to ash.” I ground out through clenched teeth.
“Even you, Bran?” Cael questions from his seat by the bookshelf. The latest edition of some murder mystery novel in his hand.
“Especially me.” I don’t even hesitate with my response. How can I? After all, I am the spawn of Satan himself. Emotion is a weakness. At least my stepbrothers, Rowan and Cael, were saved from the fate of being blood-related to our father.
"Now, let's get back to the personal files. Which one will be the weakest link and be the downfall of Charming House?" I flip through the stack of personal files on my desk, each looking more hopeless than the last. That is until my eyes land on her picture.
“Her.” I tap my finger on the picture of a young woman with brown curly hair and brown eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses. "All we need is for her to fall for one of us at the Masked Ball. Take her upstairs to our suite and seduce the information out of her.”
“And what happens when she doesn’t fall for any of our charms?” Cael asks, a pink flush creeping up his face.
“Or better yet, what if she falls for all three of us?” Rowan adds with a smile and a wiggle of his eyebrows.
The air feels like it is sucked out of the room as the idea of sharing this beautiful creature crosses our minds. None of us need to say the words. It’s something we’ve danced around for a long time but never said out loud. We’ve never had anyone we wanted to share until now.
With any luck, she won’t be as sweet and pure as her picture portrays her to be, or maybe she will be, and she’ll have the good sense to stay away from the three of us.
My hand crinkles the corner of her picture just thinking about her denying us the use of her body.
“No, it has to be her. She is perfect for our plan.” I skim her personal information. “She has only worked at Charming House for two years. Just the right amount of time to be useful in gaining information but not long enough to have formed a loyalty to the Charming Family.
“She does look sweet.” Rowan snatches the picture out of my hand before passing it to Cael.
“We’re not going to hurt her, Bran.” Cael’s voice is strained. His eyes search my face.
“No, Cael.” I agree. “We aren’t going to hurt her. It will be her choice if she goes with one or all of us. We won’t do anything she doesn’t want us to do. Besides, if anything, she’ll enjoy it.”
“Always so sure of yourself, aren’t you, Bran.”
I shift my gaze to Rowan, taking in his relaxed posture in the chair. The only tell-tale sign that he’s not as on board with the plan as he appears to be is the fast strumming of his fingers against the arm of the leather chair.
“We’ve never stooped so low as to use a female before Bran. Why now?” he asks, sitting up in the chair and placing his hands on his thighs.
How do I explain that I never intended to gain information from an employee? The personal files were only to be used as a visual of who are employees and who are guests at the Ball.
But once I saw her big brown eyes shining at me from the picture, I knew she was ours, and our only chance at her would be at the Ball. I’m afraid once she finds out who we are and what our plans are with Charming House, she won’t want anything to do with us.
I pour myself a glass of whiskey and take a drink, “It will all work out. Just wait and see." I nod at Rowan and Cael.
“I don’t know Bran. Aren’t you tired of chasing a ghost?” Cael walks to my desk, setting her picture down. Instinctively I pick it up, feeling a pull to her I’ve never felt with anyone else.
“Don’t tell me you are starting to feel sorry for that bastard, especially after everything he did to us?” I slam back the rest of my whiskey, loving the burn in my chest as it slides down my throat.
Most men in my position would have the highest quality of whiskey at their fingertips. Not me. I need the cheapest rotgut I can find. Needing the burn to remind me I’m alive instead of the numbness I usually feel.
“He can rot in prison for all I care.” I set my glass down, only indulging in one glass a day. Not the glass after glass my father drank from when he woke up until he passed out. No, the alcohol doesn’t control me. I control it like everything else in my life.
I don’t miss the look that passes between Rowan and Cael. The look they always give right before they agree to one of my revenge plans. This is it, the last piece of the plan. My father’s final company was once his baby, even if it doesn’t belong to him anymore. He built it from scratch only to give it to that undeserving brat.
“Fine, we will help you with this last one, but that’s it, no more. After this, we are done. Our revenge will be complete.” Rowan’s firm voice rings through my office, unlike his normal jovial tone.
For a moment, I debate canceling the plan to avoid losing Rowan and Cael in the fallout if our plan goes south. But it won’t. It can’t. This will be the final swan song—the greatest conquest of the downfall of my father’s empire. I’ll do whatever it takes to win.
I glance at my hand. Her picture still clutched in my grip. “Yes, Rowan. This will be the last one.” Whatever it takes, I silently vow.
ELLA
“I have a surprise for you.” Bri hands me a big white box tied with a red ribbon. “Go ahead and open it. I made it myself.” She beams at me, twisting her body from side to side.
