Bullied Cinderella (Olive Skin Devils Book 2) Read online

  Mother clapped her hands loudly to snap us out of it, making Jorge and Dario jump. My nerves were a bit more hardened than theirs, so I managed not to show how much she startled us.

  “I’ll be expecting each of you to help me ensure she’s doing her job,” she demanded in a shrill voice. She did her usual fainting motion back onto the nearest chair, feigning tears. “Your poor father would still be here today were it not from the stress of managing such incompetent people.”

  “There, there, Mother,” Dario rushed to her side. He was always a sucker for her dramatic little shows. “We’ll see to it that everything is done well.”

  “Just don’t let it distract you too much,” she said sternly, noting the way Jorge was still watching Lucia through the window. “Oh, I do wish the three of you would find some nice, high-class women to marry off to. To think, all three of you clinging on to your bachelorhood like some kind of trophy...It’s disgraceful!”

  One by one, we weaseled our way out of another one of her marriage lectures and busied ourselves with other things. While Angela intimidated most everyone else around the house, our submission to her was really all an act. If we let her think she was in control of us, she wouldn’t make as big of a fuss. We had been raised to believe that keeping your mother and family happy was one of the most important tasks in a man’s life.

  But the same could not be said for the rest of the lowly people working around us, which Dario and I took great joy in tormenting. Mother was right. Our father would probably still be here today had he not toiled away trying to squeeze a decent job out of his employees. We didn’t want the same to happen to us, so we liked to keep everyone on their toes.

  That day I was taking a walk through the laundry quarters to see if they were keeping up with our latest instructions on how to do the linens. We had made up some ridiculous demands about natural products that could be used to make everything softer and smell better. Just as I had hoped, I watched the maid nearly burst into tears as she pulled the fresh sheets from the dryer. They were now dyed bright green. She attempted to hide them, but it was too late. I arrived just in time.

  “What’s going on here?” I barked, shoving her out of the way to see the green jumbled mess behind her.

  “I don’t know what happened, Senor Leonardo!” she sobbed. “I did just as you told me to! I got the freshest greens from the garden and put them in the wash!”

  I did my best not to laugh out loud at her stupidity for falling for such a thing. Some of the older maids watched from nearby. I could feel their eyes burning into me with hatred. They likely knew what the concoction would do, but didn’t dare warn the poor girl for fear of their own jobs.

  “You obviously did something wrong! Just look at these! They’re ruined! You can be certain Donña Angela will hear about this. The cost of these will be deducted from your pay...If she doesn’t fire you right off, that is.”

  I marched away before she could defend herself. Jorge had walked up at some point during the confrontation and was leaning in the doorway, watching the whole thing with a devilish green.

  “You owe me five-hundred pesos,” I murmured to him as I walked by.

  “I’ll be damned,” he puzzled with his arms crossed. “I didn’t think she’d actually fall for it! The stupidity of these people amazes me sometimes.”

  “They don’t show up at that auction for no reason,” I quipped as I started up the stairs back into kitchen quarters. But the moment I lifted my head, I caught Lucia standing there. She was frozen with her wide eyes glued to me and one hand extended out to a jar in the pantry. It was obvious by her face that she had heard everything that had just happened.

  “Can I help you?” I sneered.

  “No,” she answered with a tight smile, but her tone was dripping with resentment.

  “No...what? How do you address me?”

  She straightened her spine and lifted her chin, greeting me with the most spiteful but determined expression. “No...sir!” she all but shouted, mock saluting me followed by a sarcastic curtsy.

  I laughed a little under my breath in surprised anger. She had some nerve. I couldn’t remember the last time a worker, a woman no less, had addressed me with such audacity. Any amusement I found in it quickly faded as I lunged forward and tightly gripped her arm in mine.

  “If you knew what was good for you, you’d treat me with the same respect you would Donña Angela or Don German...if not more so. I am the man of this house after all, with my grandfather so incapacitated. Don’t forget it,” I hissed, just inches from her face, with seething rage.

  “What’s going on up there?” Jorge called up to us, probably more out of jealousy than actual concern.

  I was too angry to break my hold on Lucia, especially since she didn’t soften the tiniest bit under my threat. I heard him bounding up the stairs behind me.

  “If you want to be treated like a man of the house, then maybe you should act like one,” she growled back at me, just quiet enough for Jorge not to hear. “Playing boyish pranks on those poor women out of boredom isn’t very manly.”

  The moment Jorge reached us, her face twisted into one of fear and anguish. She began whimpering and squirming to get loose from my grip into her arm, which had turned tighter and began to twist, leaving a red mark on her skin.

  “Enough!” Jorge pleaded, pulling me off of her.

  “Thank you, Senor,” she sniffled innocently before running off to get back to work.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Leo!?”

  I was speechless as I stood there watching her return to the kitchen. She had played it so well. For all Jorge heard, she did nothing but show me the utmost respect and I attached her for no reason.

  “You said so yourself that good caregivers were hard to find,” he continued. “Can we not scare this one off on her first day!?”

  I flashed him a breezy smile and stepped past. I had enough excitement for one afternoon. But as I walked around the courtyard, I couldn’t stop thinking about how gutsy this Lucia had been. It was maddening. Who the hell did she think she was? First, to go nosing around in my business. Second, to stand up to me with such bold and blatant disrespect. All while deceiving Jorge and making me seem like the crazy one, and not missing her chance to criticize my ways of handling the help.

  At first, I thought I needed to come up with some way to put her in her place. If I let her think that kind of behavior would be tolerated, she’d be walking all over us in no time. Then again, if she kept it up, she’d get herself fired without me having to lift a finger. That might be much more entertaining to watch.

  My tactic of letting her dig her own grave proved to be wise. In the following days, as Lucia struggled to adjust to her demanding new schedule, I watched Donña Angela give her hell relentlessly. She didn’t like her any more than I did, and little by little with each day I could see the defiant spark in her dying down. It was almost a 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 an
d 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 new girl here at all. As if we don’t have enough idiots swarming this place.”

  “Oh here we go again,” the others groaned in unison.

  “Shut your mouths! Mind who you’re talking to!” she snapped, pointing the potato peeler at them like a knife.

  I had gathered Greta was the lead cook, and she was very protective of her status in the household. She had been there longer than anyone, except for a few men that worked in the gardens and around the outside property.

  “You’d be just as upset if you’re two hardworking nephews had been let go for no good reason, only to have this trollop come prancing in here a week later.”

  “Hardworking? Ha!” Camila shot back. “They were lazy as dogs and you know it. Besides...how else could they have afforded to get a new caregiver for Don German?”

  “Exactly,” she sneered, glaring at me over her shoulder.

  I was relieved to finally be finished with the medication prep so that I could gather up Don German’s breakfast tray and deliver it to his room. He was a cranky, quiet old man who demanded that I never speak to him unless I was spoken to. I learned that the hard way after I tried making friendly conversation with him as we sat in the garden on my first day. He was quick to yell at me and put me in my place.

  But even his sorry company was preferred to the miserable workers and their incessant need to try and break me. That’s what it seemed like everyone was trying to do - to see just how much I could take before I lost it and either quit or did something to get myself fired.

  I creaked the old heavy door open and carried in the breakfast tray, setting it on the bedside table before opening the blinds. Each morning, I’d have to wake him up no matter how cross he got with me, then prop the pillows behind him to sit him up in bed. With the tray pushed over his lap, he’d stare out the window and eat in silence. When he finished, I’d help him take his pills.

  There was a huge scandal after my first few days when the maids lamented that I was a slob, leaving his room in shambles every day. It took me a while to realize that they were only trying to get me to do their job, so I’d neglect parts of mine. When breakfast was over, I’d help Don German dress to get ready for our stroll around the gardens.

  They wanted me to think I was supposed to somehow leave the room spotless, while also caring for him. But now I knew better and would waltz right out, pushing his chair in front of me, leaving the dishes and unmade bed for them. They’d often be waiting in the halls to stare me down as I walked away. I ignored them. They’d have to try and find some other way to get rid of me.

  After our morning walk, which was just as silent as breakfast, we went into the parlor to sit. In theory, it’d be a time for playing cards or reading, but those things would require me to speak to Don German...which he refused to allow.

  I’d spend our moments of quiet thinking about my sisters and mother. Elaina signed a contract of just six months, and then she’d be returning home. I felt so stupid for signing up for a year of this torment. Months and months went by as I did my best to keep my head down and keep my mouth shut, all the while barely escaping the wrath of the other workers and the mischievous cousins. I thought as time went on, things would get easier. But the longer I survived, it only seemed to make everyone hate me more.

  One day as I sat next to him in the parlor, staring out the window and missing home terribly, Donña Angela came marching in. She was dressed up and wearing a big hat. Several men followed behind her with a ridiculous amount of suitcases in hand.

  “Good afternoon, Papa,” she smiled tightly, leaning down to kiss him on his cheek.

  “Where are you going?” he asked in confusion.

  “Oh, silly old man. I told you I’d be going out of town for a few days, remember?”

  His hands and voice shook as he tried to remember. “Going where?”

  “Don’t get yourself all worked up. You just go about business as usual and make sure you get plenty of rest.”

  She looked up at me, noticing that I had been watching the whole exchange...not out of rudeness or trying to intrude. There was simply nothing else going on in the room and I was sitting just a few feet away from him.

  “Mind your own business,” she snapped.

  Nevermind that anything pertaining to Don German was my business. It was what they had hired me for.

  She kissed him on his cheek again and straightened to begin putting her gloves on while the men began loading up the car pulled out front. Leonardo, Jorge, and Dario filed into the room to tell her goodbye. Leo made the mistake of keeping his eyes on me for too long, as he often did. I knew it was just to make me feel uneasy. But Donña Angela came unhinged any time she noticed one of them staring at me.

  Rather than chastising one of her precious sons, she instead turned her rage to me. “I will be calling every afternoon and again in the evening to check on my father. I expect a full report on how he’s doing. While I’m gone, I expect your performance to be just as it would be while I’m here, if not better.”

 
She prattled on with other orders and strict reminders of what would happen if I slacked off in the slightest. I was so used to her daily lectures that I felt like I could zone out completely and still know the jist of what she said. But I caught on to the fact that she’d often slip in important details in the middle of other useless reminders, just to ensure I was paying attention to her every word. I realized this on my first day when she slipped in a list of Don German’s food allergies in the middle of her ranting. It almost seemed worth it to her for me to slip up and kill the man, if it proved a point that I was unworthy of this job.

  When she finally finished putting me down in front of everyone, she asked for me to step out and give them a moment alone. I excused myself to the hall and stood with my back against the wall, staying within earshot so I’d know when I was called back in. I tried not to listen to their private little family exchanges. It only made me miss my mother and sisters so much that I nearly cried.

  One afternoon while Donña Angela was gone, I wheeled Don German over to his favorite window seat before going to the kitchen to retrieve his lunch tray. It was too quiet when I walked in. No one teased, no one laughed. Greta just shoved the tray of soup into my hands with a cocky grin. I didn’t bother trying to guess what she was up to now.

  I delivered the tray to him as I always did and helped steady his shaking hand as he sipped his soup, one spoonful at a time. He seemed especially hungry and was already lowering to the bowl for another bite before he had even finished gobbling the last one down. Just as the bottom of the bowl started to show through the last of the soup, I noticed something strange happening.