Bullied Cinderella - Hollie Hutchins Page 0,6

little disappointing. That brief little confrontation had been the most fun I had in a while, no matter how infuriating it was.

2

Lucia

It was still dark outside as I emerged from the shower into my freezing cold room. I raced to dry off and throw on the ridiculous brown frock that Donña Angela ordered me to wear every day. The only thing I liked about it was how warm it felt in the early mornings as I hurried to escape the harsh icy chill that came over me after those morning showers. I smoothed it over in the mirror and pinned back my hair before bracing myself with a deep breath, as had become my daily ritual. One day at a time. I could do this.

I walked into the gray kitchen which was already buzzing with the other house staff members. They were chattering and cackling among themselves until I swung open the doors, then they grew quiet. Their obnoxious clamoring turned to whispers as they shot hateful looks in my direction. I did my best to ignore them and walked past to the cupboard where Don German’s medication was kept. Every morning, with my eyes still foggy from sleep, I’d sit down at the table and carefully count out that day's pills.

Camila and one of the other maids were laying out the breakfast dishes, huddled together like two little clucking hens. Their eyes would cut over to me then they’d hiss something to one another, then snicker at me. They barely bothered hiding their disdain for me, like most people on the Valencia estate.

It didn’t take me long to catch on to the game here. I was the new girl and therefore hated. They took advantage of the fact that I was on unfamiliar territory and didn’t know any of the rules, constantly trying to trick me into doing something wrong through their misinformation. All while Leonardo, his cousins, and Donña Angela watched me like hawks.

“I thought he took three of the green ones?” Camilla sang as she took to watching over my shoulder, leaning in too close to throw me off.

“No, I’m certain it’s just one,” I sighed. “Now please leave me alone. You fussing over me possibly making a mistake is exactly what will cause me to mess up.”

“Oh, someone’s grumpy this morning,” she laughed with the others.

“I don’t tell you how to clean the toilets, do I? So let me do my job, and you do yours.”

The cook watched us with a snide grin, then decided to join in on the fun. “Leave her alone, Camila! She’s probably just tired from lack of sleep. I’m certain Leonardo has been sneaking in her room late at night.”

“I think you’re right!” one of the other girls teased. “I saw him creeping down the hall three nights in a row. I’d be tired too if I was being kept up all night, every night!”

I tried to block them out and focus on my job. They were trying to get me all riled up. I had picked up on the gossip enough to know that the Valencia cousins were notorious for sleeping with the staff, which always resulted in them being promptly fired. They were trying to start dangerous rumors, but maybe if I just ignored them, they’d grow bored with me.

It couldn’t be further from the truth after all. The only interactions Leonardo and I had since I caught him tormenting that poor girl in the laundry quarters were seething looks shot at each other when no one was looking. He’d nitpick everything I did when others were around to hear, but mostly he kept whatever dark thoughts that were going through that head of his to himself. It almost made it more unnerving. He was like a stalking animal, always watching me for his chance to strike.

“That’s all we need,” huffed a young, beautiful kitchen worker as she kneaded the dough for that day’s bread. “Another common whore roaming around the manor.”

She mumbled it just loud enough for everyone to hear, but her voice dripped with a different kind of ache. It was rumored that she and Jorge carried out their own little affair until he grew bored with her. It only made her hate me more to think that one of the brothers would be giving their affection to me...no matter how untrue it was.

“Tell me about it,” Greta griped as she rinsed potatoes over the sink. “Whore or not, I still don’t see why we needed a