My Prince Charming (A Steele Fairy Tale) Read online

  My Prince Charming

  A Steele Fairy Tale

  C.M. Steele

  Contents

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Ella

  Chapter 2

  Edward

  Chapter 3

  Ella

  Chapter 4

  Edward

  Chapter 5

  Ella

  Chapter 6

  Edward

  Chapter 7

  Edward

  Chapter 8

  Ella

  Chapter 9

  Edward

  Chapter 10

  Ella

  Chapter 11

  Edward

  A month later

  Chapter 12

  Ella

  Epilogue

  Ten Years Later

  About the Author

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and please purchase your own copy.

  Created with Vellum

  Evil Stepmother? Check.

  Wicked Stepsisters? Check.

  Dead father? Check.

  Endless Chores? Check.

  Handsome prince to rescue me? I hope so!

  I have become Cinderella. However instead of dirt, the smell of grease lingers on me as the abuse sends me to the hospital and into the arms, quite literally, of Dr. Edward Prince. Will he rescue me or am I delusional from the blood loss?

  This is another over the top Steele Fairy Tale where fiction meets fantasy. Where passion ignores logic and happily ever afters are a must.

  Chapter 1

  Ella

  Sitting in the back of an Uber, I think about my life and hate the path it’s taken. It hasn’t been a good road, but it’s up to me to make it better. The driver attempts to make conversation. “So, you work at Billy’s Burgers?” It’s obvious since I’m wearing a smelly, greasy Billy’s Burgers shirt.

  “Yeah.” I shouldn’t be rude. It’s not his fault I’m miserable. I pull my hair tie out of my hair and rub my scalp gently before tying my dark brown hair back up into a messy bun.

  “Doesn’t sound like a good place to work.” He sympathetically frowns, making me feel less awkward.

  “It’s not, but it’s money,” I add. It’s a super crappy hole in the wall burger stand with less than sanitary conditions, and I’m pretty sure a manager on the nightshift sells drugs out of the back of the building. He disappears out back every couple hours, and he’s not smoking or looking high on anything, so that’s got to be the reason. Either way, it’s sketchy as hell and I hate it. Maybe I’ll quit and find another place.

  “I get it. This is my second job. I have to pay for college, and I don’t want to be drowning in debt.” He turns onto the long road that leads to some of the most expensive homes in the city. “You live over here?”

  I know exactly what he’s thinking. Why would someone living in this area have to work at a fast-food restaurant? Not everything is as it seems, but I can’t say that I’m a servant in my own home.

  “Yes, but you know how it is…they want to teach me a lesson about hard work,” I lie. It’s the furthest thing from the truth.

  Eight years ago, my father remarried. She’s kind of a wicked stepmother who acts sweet and kind to your face and then threatens to smother you while you sleep. It has been three years since my father killed himself, and not a day goes by that I don’t miss him and wonder why he did it. He’d started to witness their abuse and neglect when it came to me, and they even fought about it when he wasn’t working nonstop, so why would he leave me alone?

  Sometimes I wonder if he was murdered, but I’ve got no proof except my stepmother’s greed as a motive. Everything according to the investigators led to a suicide except the fact that there wasn’t a note. He and I had plans for the following weekend, so none of it made sense to me.

  After a long day at my fast-food job, I still have to go to my second job at the local Walmart.

  “Well, don’t work too hard and take care,” he says. I give him money and close the door. The large mansion in front of me would be a pleasure to own if my stepfamily hadn’t existed. Honestly, I don’t believe my father would have purchased such an ostentatious place if it weren’t for my stepmother. He had simpler tastes despite his wealth.

  God, I miss him.

  A feeling of stress and fatigue weighs on me as I slide the key into the lock and turn it gingerly. If I didn’t have to stop at home first, I wouldn’t, but I smell like old grease and need to shower and change. Cringing as the door creaks open, I quietly sneak in and close it gently behind me.

  If my stepfamily realizes I’m home, the demands will begin. I need to get out of here as quickly as possible—and I’m not just talking about today. I need to get away from them and unfortunately, running away is my only recourse.

  Two days ago, I graduated from high school without fanfare. Going to college is out of the question at the moment. Although I received paychecks, saving money has been nearly impossible. My stepmother would take a majority of my money as payment for living in my father’s home. Now that I’m an adult, they demand more money per paycheck.

  I’ve finally reached my breaking point. I’d rather be homeless than live with them ever again. After I get off my shift, I’m packing all I can carry and I’m leaving.

  I manage to make it to my small room without any of them coming to look for me. It won’t last long, but hopefully they’re too busy to bother me. I find my work clothes and then kick off my shoes, and next is my greasy, smelly shirt.

  As I kick off my pants, my small bedroom is invaded by my stepsisters. They storm in so quickly that I don’t have time to slip my clothes back on. Instead, I use my hands to cover up that I’m in my worn-out bra and panties.

  “Why are my clothes not folded, Ella?” Ana shouts, tossing her wicker basket of clothes at me, hitting me square in the face. Holy cow, this woman has lost her mind. Reaching up, I touch my cheek and feel the sting of the small abrasion that the stupid basket made. I’m about to launch myself at her, but I remember my plan. Getting out of here is more important than dealing with these women ever again.

  “Why are my dresses not hanging in color order?” Demi adds, launching an empty wooden hanger in my direction, but her terrible aim sends it through the one window in my room, shattering the glass over my bed.

  “Mom, Ella broke the window,” Ana hollers like a banshee. Great. Now I’m going to lose the rest of the money I have to fix it even though it’s not my fault.

  “You’re in so much trouble,” Demi sneers, venom practically seeping from her teeth like the evil snake she is.

  I roll my eyes. “You’re the one who broke my damn window,” I argue, which I know isn’t going to do me any good because they don’t like me defending myself at all.

  “It’s our house and our windows. You should have done your chores, you lazy whore.”

  “I had to work early this morning, unlike you,” I remind them. No one else works. They live off my father’s life insurance and the money he left behind to help care for me, although I’ve never seen a penny of that money.

  “And you couldn’t have done it last night?” my stepmother says from the bedroom door. I turn to look at the older woman with her cold, elegant appearance, dressed as if she was a millionaire. She has a look of loathing on her overly made-up face.

  I feel my throat tightening and my eyes be
gin to tear up, but if they see me cry, things will only get worse. I haven’t cried in a long time, and I won’t be that weak. “Why are you standing in your underwear? Were you flashing the neighbor across the street?”

  How dare she! I’m so tired of all of them, and I let it slip out of my mouth. “No. I was changing when your slags you call daughters barged in my room.”

  “Bitch,” Anna screams, charging at me. Her hands slam into my chest, sending me backward and falling onto the bed with my head hitting the wooden windowpane and my arm digging into a shard of glass. I scream when the large piece pierces my arm. Standing up and away from them, I pull out the glass, squirting blood everywhere. Quickly, I wrap my arm in the nearest shirt and then make my way out the door, snatching my bathrobe from the hook on the back of the door.

  Without a backward glance, I run out of the house before they finish what they started.

  I’m sprinting out of the house so fast that I accidentally run into the street. Mrs. Godley, my next-door neighbor, nearly hits me with her car. The brakes screech and my hand hits the hood. She jumps out and runs around to see if I’m okay. “Oh, my dear. I’m sorry. Let me get you to the hospital.” She helps me into her car and drives. “What are you doing running into the street in your bathrobe?”

  My head begins spinning from the blood loss. I don’t know how to answer her, so I mumble something unintelligible.

  “We’re at the hospital,” she says, pulling up to what I assume is the ER, but I’m kind of confused. Running inside, she calls for help. I open the back door and stumble out. I don’t get more than a foot before I fall and hit the ground.

  The next thing I know, muscular arms are wrapped around me, picking me up. “Princess, you need to be careful.”

  “Dr. Prince, we’ll take her.”

  “No. I’m already covered in blood,” he growls at them. Something about the way he snarls out commands sends a shiver through me. Then again, maybe it’s the loss of blood.

  “My prince,” I whisper, collapsing in his arms.

  Waking up, I hear an annoying beeping noise that’s getting on my nerves. Suddenly, my left arm itches like crazy, so I reach to scratch it. As soon as my nails hit my skin, I scream from the burning pain.

  “Whoa there, Princess. You need to take it easy. Does it itch?” God, that voice is panty melting and as my vision clears, the face matches. He has bright blue eyes which are in stark contrast with dark hair that looks like he runs his hands through it a lot. I want to run my hands through it. My eyes move further down, inspecting my hero, and I must be higher than a kite because his pants have a massive bulge in just the right spot. What is wrong with me?

  “Yes. What happened? What’s going on?” I exclaim, trying to get my head out of the gutter.

  “Do you remember anything? Do you know your name?” His questions come out with an urgency that confuses me. His pretty light eyes are frantic and I want to reach up and wipe away the look of concern. He’s too handsome to be upset. “Princess?”

  It takes me a moment to process what he asked and then I finally find my voice. “Yes, Ella Collins. I got cut with glass.” I’m feeling lightheaded and euphoric suddenly as I breathe in his masculine scent.

  “Did you fall?” I shake my head, but it moves too quickly, and a dizzying rush causes me to sway. Luckily, I’m sitting in the bed. Maybe it’s from the man in front of me and not the blood loss.

  “Whoa, take it slow.” He puts his hand on my shoulder. His other hand touches mine.

  Unable to resist, I bring my other hand to his face. “You’re so handsome.”

  “Thank you, Princess.” We stare at each other in silence longer than is polite, neither of us moving.

  Needing to stop blushing like a goofy schoolgirl, I sigh and answer his earlier question, “My stepsister shoved me into the glass.”

  His body tenses, and my heart clenches in time with my pussy. Holy hell. I’m a mess: a bloody, horny mess. “Do you want to press charges?” he growls.

  “No. I just want to sleep.” And dream about him and a life completely different than the one I have.

  He smiles and turns his head, kissing my palm. “Fine, Princess. Rest. I’ll check on you in a little bit.” God, my heart upticks when he calls me that. I’ve never felt the longing the sexy doctor is bringing out of me.

  “Fabulous bedside manner,” I moan, sucking my bottom lip under my teeth.

  “Only for you, Princess.” He winks and walks away from my bed. Before he leaves the room, he stops, and it looks like he’s adjusting himself. He steals one more glance, and I smile and then lay my head on the pillow, letting my body relax like it should until I’m sleeping.

  Chapter 2

  Edward

  My heart hasn’t been the same since Ella fell into my world. Holding her bleeding form shouldn’t have been romantic, but my heart and soul had different ideas. She’s the one for me.

  I was in the middle of pulling a double and due to leave in a couple of hours when she came in. They stitched her up and gave her something for the pain. I came in during a short break to check on her before making my last set of rounds, just in time to see her wake up. Her beautiful honey-colored eyes shone up at me with a softness that melted my frozen soul. In my entire life, I’ve never felt so captivated, intrigued, and horny.

  I have to keep her protected, and I will. That stepsister of hers is going to pay for hurting my woman. I almost lost my mind seeing her covered in blood in her “Princess” robe. How perfect.

  Leaving the room had been more challenging than I expected, especially knowing that I’m not alone in the attraction. It’s wrong, but I want to take her into my arms again like I did outside the entrance of the ED. I’ve officially lost it.

  “Dr. Prince, may I have a word with you?” I meet the stern gaze of the head nurse who I’m sure is going to rip me a new one for going to check on a patient that isn’t one of mine.

  “Yes, Nurse Merriweather.” Following her to the nurses’ station with Ella’s chart, I read as much as I can about my future wife.

  “Did you learn anything about the young lady?” That’s not the first question I’d thought she’d ask.

  “Yes, she claims that she was pushed into the glass.” I’m seething at that knowledge. At first I thought maybe a bathroom accident happened, but now that I know the truth, I’m seeing red. It’s insane how angry I am at some woman who hurt my woman. Ella’s a stranger, but the second I held her in my arms, it changed everything. I want her. No, I need her.

  She sighs, shaking her head. “Okay. We’re going to need to call the cops. Was it a boyfriend?”

  There better not be a boyfriend coming to tend to her. I hadn’t thought of another man getting in my way. “No. Her stepsister, but she doesn’t want it reported.”

  “I know seeing this girl has knocked out your common sense, but I can’t look past the incident. I’ll need to contact them even if she doesn’t press charges.”

  “I know, I know.” I cringe thinking about how my princess is going to take the news. She’s going to be pissed at me. Perhaps I should have kept my mouth shut. Although I want them to pay for putting their hands on her and since I wouldn’t hit a woman, calling the cops is the next best option.

  “Those wicked stepsisters.” She rolls her eyes and grabs the phone. She’s right, regardless; this is a violent incident, and we have a duty to report it.

  “I’m going to make my rounds and then check on her again,” I tell her, waiting for the scolding to come and she doesn’t disappoint.

  She holds her hand over the mouthpiece and then says, “You know you’re not her attending physician.”

  “I’m on duty for another two hours. By the time I’m done, I can check on her.”

  “I suppose when a princess just falls in your path you have to rescue her,” she teases and then turns back to the call. I thought she was going to give me a hard time about breaking protocol, but I’m glad she holds back her reservations becau
se something about Ella has me on edge, needing to protect, care, and worship her. It’s as if she needs me.

  “You take care. Follow up with your doctor in three days or if your symptoms get worse.” I walk out of the room, sanitizing my hands before heading to the nurses’ station to drop off Mr. Wilson’s paperwork. It takes me longer to finish my rounds than I hoped, but that’s because I became distracted thinking about Ella. Afraid that she’d leave without me, I rush down to my locker and shower quickly before heading to her room.

  “Here comes Prince Charming,” a masculine voice I know well and hate, says.

  I scowl at Dr. Rosen. He’s an asshole and a complete pervert when it comes to the patients. He’s always stealing extra-long glances at the women. Since I met Ella, I suppose I’m not much better, but this is completely different. I’m not going to let Ella go and I’ve never done such a thing before. Never.

  “What do you need, Rosen?” I genuinely don’t like the man, and he knows it.

  A smirk on his face only makes me want to bash his head in. “Nothing. The hot DV patient was looking for her Prince Charming and clearly told me it wasn’t me.” Now his words set my teeth on edge. I’m going to kill this fucker.

  I shake my head and get in his face. Practically foaming at the mouth, I give him one warning. “Don’t talk about her like that again. It’s the only warning you’re getting.” Walking away before I knock his ass out, I go into her room.