Cinderella's Revenge

Jakarta had surrendered to the night by 7:00 PM. The streetlights and hotel beacons blazed with artificial gold. Inside a prestigious five-star hotel, the atmosphere was reaching its peak. The opulent ballroom was packed with elite guests; music hummed through the air, and hushed conversations filled every corner as the high society paraded in their finest attire.

​Elaina stood before the hotel entrance, her eyes tracking the couples as they moved toward the lobby. Husbands, wives, and families-all wearing smiles that felt like a personal insult. A bitter cocktail of envy, rage, and jealousy brewed in her chest.

​Before stepping out of the taxi, she massaged her temples. She had been nursing a bottle of Vodka Martini since the ride began. It was her anchor, her liquid courage. She didn't care for the judgment of others; the alcohol was her only way to survive the night. A few shots had made her steps heavy and unsteady, but her mind remained dangerously sharp.

​She knew this wasn't her. She wasn't the type to inflict pain; she had been raised to be graceful and kind. But grace had crumbled the moment she was betrayed. Fidell-the man who had sworn his life to her-was now standing at the altar with someone else. He had discarded her just two days ago, and now, she was here to witness the "happily ever after" he had stolen from her.

​She didn't come to congratulate him. She came for blood.

​"Miss, we've been sitting here for half an hour," the driver said, glancing at her through the rearview mirror with a mix of confusion and pity.

​The ride had been a tomb of silence. Elaina had sat there, gloom-ridden, hair slightly frayed, clutching her bottle like a lifeline. When the taxi stopped, she didn't move. She just stared at the lobby with hollow eyes. Finally, she swallowed hard, checked the meter, and let out a shaky breath. The fare was steep, but money was the last thing on her mind.

​She pulled some cash from her small black clutch and handed it over without a word. Before stepping out, she took one last, long swig from the bottle.

​Her first step onto the pavement was wobbly. The alcohol had compromised her balance, but her spite kept her upright. She marched toward the lobby, her long yellow gown trailing behind her. The hem was already stained with the grime of the street, but she didn't care. One hand clutched her dress, the other gripped her bottle.

​Crossing the driveway, she nearly collided with a car. The driver slammed on the brakes just in time. Elaina stumbled but regained her footing, glaring forward as she hurried toward the entrance. Her tolerance wasn't high, but her adrenaline was through the roof.

​Inside the car, the driver stared at her, stunned. Who is this girl? he wondered. If his reflexes hadn't been sharp, the night would have ended in tragedy.

​"What is she in such a rush for?" the man muttered, adjusting his frameless glasses. He watched her disappearing silhouette before pulling into the valet.

​Elaina stormed into the lobby and shoved her way into a crowded elevator. She ignored the whispers and the scent of expensive perfume around her. Her brain was a battlefield of pain and the desperate need to stay conscious long enough for her revenge.

​The doors opened. She maneuvered through the crowd and reached the ballroom. Using a borrowed invitation from a friend, she slipped inside effortlessly. Then, she froze.

​There they were.

​On a grand, floral-adorned stage, the newlyweds were receiving blessings. An orchestra played softly in the distance. She recognized them all: the groom, his parents-her almost-family.

​Her chest tightened. She choked back a sob, tossed her empty bottle into a nearby bin, and wiped her eyes. Grabbing a glossy catering brochure from a buffet table, she held it over her head to mask her face and joined the queue of guests.

​With every step forward, her heart hammered against her ribs. Five people left. Four. The MC was interviewing the couple.

​"So, to our happy groom," the MC's voice boomed. "Tell us, how long have you two been together? What made you realize she was The One?"

​Fidell took the microphone, beaming at his bride in her pristine white lace. "We've been together for about six months. We just clicked instantly. I proposed last month because I knew I couldn't live without her."

​Elaina's fists clenched until her knuckles turned white.

​"A beautiful love story!" the MC cheered. "Was it love at first sight?"

​"Absolutely," Fidell replied smoothly. "Ivanka is the only woman for me. I've never loved anyone the way I love her."

​"LIAR!"

​The scream tore through the romantic melody. Elaina broke formation, throwing her borrowed invitation aside and pointing a trembling finger at the stage.

​"Fidell, you son of a bitch! How dare you lie!"

​The ballroom fell into a deathly silence. Fidell's face drained of color. His bride looked on, confused. "Who is this, honey?"

​"Nobody," Fidell hissed, panic flaring in his eyes. "She's nobody."

​Elaina surged forward. Security tried to intercept, but she was a woman possessed. The vodka had numbed her shame, leaving only the raw, burning heat of her heartbreak.

​"Keep denying it! We were together for three years! Your parents know me!" she screamed, gesturing to the horrified elders beside him. "You dumped me two days ago over a phone call, and now you're married? Your name means 'Loyalty,' Fidell, but you're nothing but a traitor! A bastard!"

​"Fidell!" his father barked, his face turning puce.

​"She's crazy!" Fidell shouted to the guards. "We broke up ages ago! Get her out of here!"

​"Ages ago? It was forty-eight hours, you cheating coward!" Elaina reached down, ripped off one of her shoes, and hurled it at his head. It missed, thudding onto the expensive carpet right next to the bride.

​The guests crowded in, phones coming out to record the scandal. Elaina didn't care. She wanted the world to see the rot beneath his expensive suit.

​Fidell abandoned his bride and marched down the steps, his face contorted with rage. He signaled the guards, who grabbed Elaina's arms, pinning them behind her back. He stood inches from her face, his voice a low, lethal hiss.

​"How dare you embarrass me like this."

​Elaina lifted her chin, a manic, watery laugh escaping her lips. "I just wanted your wife to know what kind of man she's taking home. Do you recognize this dress, Fidell? It's the same one I wore when you proposed to me last year. The day we got engaged. You recognize it now, you bastard?"

​"Oh," Fidell sneered, smoothing his lapel and looking at her with cold, bored eyes. "You're just bitter because I chose her over you?"

​Elaina thrashed against the guards, but their grip was iron.

​"Bitter? It's not the breakup that hurts, it's the double life! You were dating both of us at the same time! You're pathetic!"

​Fidell leaned in closer, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "Maybe you should look in the mirror and ask yourself why I chose Ivanka. What kind of man would ever actually marry a woman like you?"

​His words were like salt rubbed into a fresh wound. But Fidell had made a mistake. He thought he had broken her. He didn't realize that Elaina wouldn't stop until she had burned his perfect world to the ground.

​"You should look in the mirror and ask yourself why I chose Ivanka. What kind of man would ever actually marry a woman like you?"

​The words echoed in Elaina's ears like a relentless siren. She snapped, a scream tearing from her throat, but Fidell merely signaled the guards to haul her off the stage. Despite her slender frame, it took the strength of two grown men to restrain her. A woman fueled by heartbreak and vodka was a force of nature that few men were prepared to handle.

​"Don't you think for a second this is over, Fidell! You will pay for this!"

​Fidell returned to his bride's side, his gaze cold as he watched the guards drag Elaina out of the ballroom. He followed every move, watching his ex-fiancée being forcibly pulled away, step by step, until she finally vanished behind the wall of high-society guests. The ballroom remained a hive of activity, but for Fidell, that moment was a sigh of relief. The weight pressing on his chest eased; she was gone. At least for tonight, the chaos was contained.

​Yet, a prickle of curiosity pierced his relief. How had she even gotten in? Every guest was required to show an official invitation barcode. Who gave her access? Did someone in this room help her? His eyes scanned the crowd, searching the calm, expensive faces for a sign of betrayal, but everyone looked perfectly indifferent.

​He forced himself to stay composed. Tonight wasn't the time for more scenes. He pinned a practiced smile back onto his face, though his mind was a storm of suspicion. The soft touch of his wife's hand on his waist pulled him back to reality. He glanced at her-she was trying to be his anchor. He took a long, stabilizing breath. Everything had to go according to plan, even if some questions remained unanswered.

​"Yes, darling," he murmured.

​Ivanka's eyes narrowed, her frustration bubbling beneath her flawless makeup. The glow that had radiated from her earlier was gone, replaced by an aura of sharp suspicion. She looked at her husband with disbelief. Elaina's outburst had shattered the perfect mood she had spent months building.

​"Fidell, don't you dare play games behind my back," she hissed, her voice a dangerous thread.

​Fidell caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

​"How could I? You are the only woman I love. That woman... we were close once, but that was a lifetime ago. She became obsessed. My parents are right here-why don't you ask them if you don't believe me?"

​Ivanka bit back her retort. She wanted to grill her in-laws, but the line of guests waiting to congratulate them was growing long. She chose silence for now, burying her curiosity deep in her heart. But she wouldn't let it go. That woman had humiliated her in front of the elite, and Ivanka vowed that there would be consequences.

​She had planned this wedding with surgical precision-the decor, the menu, the guest list. She had invited thousands to incite awe and envy. It was supposed to be a landmark event for the media and the upper class. For her, as the daughter of a coal tycoon, money was no object. Power and wealth were her birthright. Elaina's intrusion wasn't just a scene; it was a challenge. And Ivanka didn't lose challenges.

​She leaned in and whispered to her mother, "Mom, have someone watch that crazy girl. Don't let her near this place again."

​Her mother nodded curtly. "Don't worry. Your father is already on it. I can't believe Fidell was reckless enough to let her show up."

​"Mom, Fidell didn't invite her. We have no idea how she got an invitation."

​"Then the guards will handle it."

​Ivanka nodded, a slow burn of vengeance lighting up her eyes. She expertly flipped her expression back to a radiant smile as she shook hands with the next guest. This was her day, and no one-especially not some girl named Elaina-was going to ruin it.

​In the lobby, three uniformed guards gripped Elaina's arms, ignoring her cries of pain. Their orders were simple: throw her out, and they were doing exactly that.

​"Let go of me, you bastards!"

​Elaina's head was spinning, her stomach churning. She had walked in with a heart full of courage, seeking justice for herself, but she had lost. The guards dragged her into the elevator, shoved her through the lobby, and literally tossed her out.

​"Stay out!" one of them barked.

​Elaina hit the cold marble floor hard. She was wearing only one shoe; her right foot was bare. A sharp pain shot through her hip-she wasn't fragile, but she didn't have much padding against the unforgiving stone.

​Suddenly, a strong, steady arm reached down to help her up. The sleeve was made of deep black silk-a tuxedo. The scent of masculine musk hit her, making her vodka-clouded brain swirl even faster.

​"You're being far too rough with a lady."

​Elaina looked up. Standing over her was a tall man with a thin shadow of a beard framing a sharp, decisive jaw. His frameless glasses gave him an air of dangerous intellect. He leaned down, his fingers brushing against her elbow, sending a jolt of static electricity through her body.

​"Are you alright?"

​Elaina swallowed hard, mesmerized by his presence. "I'm fine... thank you."

​"Wait here."

​It wasn't a suggestion; it was a command. The man stepped toward the guards, his voice calm and authoritative. "You can head back up. I'll take care of her."

​"Who are you?" one guard asked, his voice still gruff.

​The man smirked, pulling a business card from his wallet. The guards shared a look, nodded instantly, and retreated into the elevator without another word.

​Elaina huffed, clutching her single shoe as she stumbled toward a vending machine. Wincing, she fumbled for coins and shoved them into the slot. She pressed the button for beer. Three cans rolled out. She grabbed them all, slumped onto the floor near the machine, and ignored the stares of the passersby.

​She cracked the first can and drained it. The second followed quickly. As she opened the third, the man in the glasses knelt beside her.

​"Planning on finishing your transformation into a drunk right here?"

​Elaina shook her head. "No. I'm going home."

​"To what home? Come on, I'll drive you."

​"You will drive me?" she asked, her vision blurring.

​He nodded. "Yes. Now stand up. Watch your shoe."

​Elaina stood, swaying dangerously. "Shoe... where's my shoe?"

​"You only have one."

​"Right. I threw the other one at Fidell's face. That bastard! That absolute coward!"

​"Watch your step."

​Elaina couldn't think straight. She didn't care who was holding her or where she was going. She just wanted to be away from the hotel, away from the people who hated her.

​"Fidell... one day, I'm going to kill him."

​"Ah, but murder is a sin," the man replied smoothly.

​Elaina nodded solemnly. "You're right. Murder is a sin. And I'd go to jail."

​The man let out a soft, low chuckle as he signaled the valet. "Wait here. The car is coming."

​Elaina giggled as they stood on the hotel terrace. She looked at the man beside her-tall, built, and devastatingly handsome despite the scruff on his chin. She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck.

​"You're handsome."

​He looked down at her, her flushed lips inches from his.

​"You're drunk," he whispered.

​Elaina shook her head. "No... I'm aware."

​"Aware? Do you know you're hugging a stranger in public?" He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him to steady her as a group of people walked by.

​Elaina exhaled, breathing in his scent. She inhaled it greedily, as if the night air might steal it away. It made no sense, but he was the only thing that felt safe. For the first time, she admitted to herself that this man's presence-his scent, his touch-was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

​"Elaina..."

​He said her name. She smiled.

​"I like your voice."

​His hand stroked her waist, a possessive gesture. "I like everything about you. But before security arrests us for public indecency, I think we should leave. Let's go to my place."

​"Your place?"

​"Yes. Mind your head."

​Elaina didn't resist as he helped her into the car. Her mind was a fog of rage and heartbreak. A girl getting into a stranger's car was dangerous-reckless, even. But Elaina didn't care. The only thing she had left was her anger, and the mysterious man who seemed to be the only person on her side.

The pair walked through the dimly lit basement after the car was parked, heading toward the elevator that led to the apartment's main lobby.

​"Hey, Mister. Your place is nice," Elaina giggled as they crossed the expansive, marble-clad lobby.

​"It's just a loan," the man replied smoothly.

​"But I like it." Elaina spread her arms wide, swaying unsteadily in front of him. She didn't care where she was or where he was taking her. Her brain was a blur; she was struggling enough just to keep her feet moving in a straight line.

​The man smiled. "You like it?"

​Elaina nodded vigorously. "I love it!"

​A security guard greeted the man with a nod, stealing a quick, curious glance at Elaina before letting them through to the residents' elevator. Elaina managed to snatch the last can of beer, successfully cracking it open and draining the contents in one go.

​"Aah... so good."

​They were alone in the elevator. The man let out a soft, amused chuckle, watching her drunkenly hum a tune. When the doors opened on the 20th floor, he guided her out and toward unit 205. As the door swung open, Elaina let out a small shriek of delight.

​"Wow, what a gorgeous apartment!" She laughed, spinning around the living room. She stumbled back, accidentally bumping into him.

​"You're cool."

​"I'm cool?"

​"Very. Your house is cool."

​"A borrowed house," he reminded her.

​"Hehehe. What's your name?"

​"Alister."

​"What a cool name."

​Elaina began to mumble incoherent sentences, slipping out of Alister's hold. She started to sing with a voice that was-thankfully-not off-key. It was a heartbreak song. She screamed, she cried, and she cursed Fidell. She was the textbook definition of a woman with a shattered heart.

​Alister left her in the living room, heading to his bedroom to remove his glasses and change into something more comfortable. When he stepped back out, he was stunned. Elaina had stripped down, standing there in nothing but her lace bra and panties.

​"Am I not pretty enough?" Elaina moved toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his.

​Alister took a deep, stabilizing breath. "You are very beautiful."

​"Am I not sexy enough?" she whimpered, her voice half-whining.

​"No, you're incredibly sexy."

​"Then... I'm not rich enough."

​Elaina pulled him down by his neck, her lips brushing against his as she stood on her tiptoes. "Mmm, your lips taste good." She pressed a soft, tentative kiss to his.

​She didn't know where this sudden surge of boldness came from-kissing a man she barely knew. All she wanted was to drown out the bitterness and the hollow ache inside her. She kept kissing him, urging Alister's lips to part until she could taste him fully.

​Alister slowly rested his hands on her waist, allowing her to explore his mouth. Though his desire was surging, he fought to restrain himself. The woman in his arms wasn't sober; he couldn't let himself lose control. But Elaina was becoming bolder by the second.

​"Kiss me," she whispered against his lips.

​"You want me to kiss you?" his voice was a low rasp.

​"Yes. Kiss me until I forget everything."

​Alister smirked. "Forgetting your problems with a kiss? Not a bad idea."

​Elaina didn't protest when Alister gripped her waist firmly. She stood on her toes, hungrily meeting his lips. She gasped when he suddenly swept her off her feet, carrying her to the sofa. The kiss deepened, turning intense as she lay draped over him. She didn't care where his hands wandered; in that moment, she was ready to give him everything.

​"You're so warm," Elaina whispered, her fingers tracing the contours of his chest. "Your chest is so firm, your shoulders so broad... I like it." Without hesitation, she nipped at his shoulder, making him gasp.

​"It would be better if we did this while you were conscious, Elaina," Alister managed to say.

​Elaina shook her head stubbornly. "I feel good right now. Come on, kiss me again."

​Alister cupped her chin and kissed her softly. When he heard her moan, he couldn't help but deepen the kiss, met by her desperate response. He let his tongue tangle with hers, savoring the taste of her. He winced slightly as she ground her hips against his, his own body reacting violently to her proximity. He cursed inwardly, praying he wouldn't lose his resolve. The sight of her was intoxicating.

​Wrapped in her white bra, her skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, Alister could see her body trembling with anticipation. He imagined what it would feel like to touch her fully. As if reading his mind, Elaina reached behind her back and unclipped her bra. In an instant, the fabric slid to the floor. She smiled, returning her lips to his.

​"Sir... touch me," she whispered, her voice husky.

​"Touch you where?" Alister asked.

​"Everywhere. Please."

​Alister tried to resist when she guided his hand to her breast. But the moment his fingers brushed against her silken skin and her hardened peak, his self-control vanished. He kneaded her softly, and Elaina bit her lip. He traced the tip with his thumb before leaning down. His tongue swept over her, and he heard her let out a long, broken moan.

​"Why do you want this?" he whispered hoarsely against her skin.

​Elaina shook her head. "I just do."

​There was no perfect reason. She just needed to prove that she was still desirable. Her self-worth had been trampled by Fidell. She felt unwanted, discarded. Being with this handsome stranger was her way of proving she was still a woman worth wanting.

​Alister lowered his head, doing exactly what had been on his mind since they arrived. Elaina's breathing grew ragged. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, burying his face against her. Groans, sighs, and the heavy sound of desire filled the room.

​Elaina felt like she was burning up, pressing herself against him. She closed her eyes, biting her lip as Alister brought her a pleasure she had never known. It was strange, but electric. She reached for his shirt, fumbling to pull it off. When the fabric was finally gone, she gasped.

​"Wow... so much hair," she sighed breathlessly.

​She brushed her fingers through the light trail of hair on his chest that led down toward his stomach. She loved the sensation against her fingertips. Finding his own peaks, she teased them, watching him grow more tense. Gathering her courage, she leaned down, mirroring the attention he had given her.

​"Elaina, what are you doing?" Alister asked, his voice strained.

​"The same thing you did," she murmured.

​She kissed and teased his skin before sat up to reclaim his lips.

​Alister cursed under his breath, unable to fight the fire in his veins any longer. He was only human, and a half-naked woman was devouring him. He lifted her off his lap, laying her back against the sofa, and quickly disposed of her remaining lace. Elaina didn't resist. She lay there, her eyes clouded with lust and haze. Reflexively, one hand moved to cover herself.

​"Sir... what are you doing?" she asked.

​Alister smiled darkly. "What do you want me to do, Elaina?"

​Elaina bit her lip and shook her head. "I... I don't know."

​Alister moved her hand away, his index finger slowly tracing her. "How about this? Do you like this?"

​Elaina's eyes widened, but she nodded. "Yes, Sir."

​"And this?" He leaned in closer, his touch becoming more deliberate. Again, she nodded.

​Alister suppressed a smile, his own breath coming in short bursts. He traced her gently, his movements rhythmic and teasing.

​"Open your legs for me," he commanded.

​She obeyed, spreading herself for him. When she realized what he was about to do, her eyes went wide.

​"Get ready. You can scream if you want to. You're free here, Elaina."

​At first, she didn't understand why she would need to scream. But when Alister positioned himself and leaned down to offer a different kind of pleasure, she stiffened. A soft kiss turned into a lingering caress, and then his tongue swept over her. Elaina gasped, her back arching. She had never felt anything like this-she never knew a touch could be so devastatingly powerful.

​"Aah!"

​Her voice was heavy. She tried to pull him closer, but his hands held her thighs firmly apart. A storm of emotions hit her-pure desire mixed with a desperate need to be seen. She didn't care about anything else anymore; she was ready to give Alister every part of her.

​She sighed and moaned, her body slick with sweat and the evidence of her own rising passion. When Alister finally lifted his head, she was breathless. Her vision was swimming, her body limp from the sheer intensity of the climax.

​"You're so warm," Alister whispered, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

​Elaina smiled weakly, reaching up to stroke his face. "You're... you're very good at that. My heart won't stop racing."

​"Did you enjoy it?"

​"Very much. But now... I'm so sleepy."