_Cinderella Meets The Prince

"Stepmother, our salaries are yet to be paid. How do you expect me to pay Miranda's tuition fee?" Due's eyes bulged when she heard the outrageous amount Barbara, her stepmother, had demanded from her.

The older woman gawked at her with a sinister smile. "My dear stepdaughter, your financial concerns are not my burden. You are capable. Very capable. You work for one of the most prestigious companies in the world, don't you? Surely, a mere tuition fee is within your grasp."

Anger poured within Due. Her stepmother's words always managed to provoke her all the time, but the situation was out of her power.

Her father was all she had, and he was crazily in love with the horrible woman.

Due just couldn't make sense of the unhealthy obsession he had with her stepmother. Now, he was down with an acute stroke, and she was the breadwinner, the unpaid maid, and the emotional punching bag, all rolled into one.

Miranda, her stepsister, lived a life of privilege while Due struggled to make ends meet.

"But, Mother—" Due wanted to protest but was hushed.

Barbara raised a hand to silence her. "No buts, Due. Your duty is clear. Provide for your sister. As for you, you'll survive. You always do."

Due felt her throat growing dry with frustration. She had been surviving for years, but it was starting to feel like she was drowning. She wanted to break free from this prison she called a home but didn't know how. 

She filled a plate with toast and a boiled egg for herself, eager to rush through eating and get to work.

However, "Due, where's my juice?" Miranda's voice echoed down the stairs in a shrill.

Due summoned a forced smile on her face. "On the table, sweetheart."

Miranda grunted before picking up the cup. "This is cold," she complained after a sip, kicking the leg of the dining table.

"Don't you like your juices cold?" Due, who was already getting irritated, barked.

Before Miranda could let out one of her cutthroat screams like she wasn't a nineteen-year-old, "Due!" Barbara interjected, "I need that money by tomorrow. Don't disappoint me, because if you do, I'll make your father as unsatisfied as you just made my daughter."

"Mom! You're the best!" Miranda shrieked, running to envelop her mother in an embrace.

Due rolled her eyes at the disgusting mother and daughter, and turned to leave, saving her query for later. How was she going to come up with the tuition fee, huh?

Should she find a part-time job? She shuddered at the thought of having to over-exert herself because of a mess her father had dumped her into.

She was getting late for work. Her company, Pulse Media, which used to produce groundbreaking TV shows and documentaries, was now struggling to stay afloat. 

Greedy shareholders had siphoned off the company's funds, leaving it on the brink of collapse. Due couldn't fathom what she'd do if she lost the job because of the bankruptcy.

Once she was set for work, she headed to the nearest bus stop to catch a bus. It was as chaotic as ever when she got there. Monday mornings were the busiest.

People jostled for positions in the queue impatiently. She was constantly checking her wristwatch to track the time. If only she didn't have to do so many chores every morning, she might arrive earlier for work.

Just as the bus pulled up, a man sprinted towards it from nowhere. He was tall, with a fine broad frame that, perhaps, made him think he could cheat everyone in the queue and have his way. 

Like hell, she'd sit here and allow him!

She was about to bellow at him when she saw that the side of his face was obscured by a mask. Who wears masks around the city on Monday mornings?

Was he sick in the head? That would explain his behavior. Something about him was off, an aura of mystery that drew Due's attention.

"Hey!" she finally exclaimed sharply with irritation. "The queue is over there!"

The other commuters murmured in agreement to her protest.

"That's barbaric!"

"How dare he try to overtake the queue?!"

"What an irresponsible thing to do!"

The comments made the man halt and fix his gaze on Due. His eyes, which were visible from beneath the mask, were a violet shade. 

Due's lips parted in surprise. Who had such an eye color? There was something almost haunting in his stare, as though he was trying to hate her for getting in the way of his plan. The intensity of his gaze made Due's legs wobble.

Before she could say anything else, the bus doors hissed open. The man, indifferent about the protests, still went ahead, slipped past her, and boarded the bus.

Due was left fuming and so was the rest of the commuters. How dare he?

His outlandish behavior left her standing rooted to a spot for more than a minute before finally coming to her senses. The bus might get filled up if she didn't act fast!

Grumbling to herself, she stepped onto the bus. To her dismay, the only available seat was right next to the man in the mask. 

WHAT THE—

Hell, no! Now, was she going to sit beside his creepy self?

With a sigh, she lowered herself into the vinyl seat, but her gaze was fixated straight ahead. However, to her dismay, the man turned to face her, his eyes still holding that enigmatic glisten.

The unease that swarmed over Due was boundless. Who was this man? Why was he wearing a mask? And why was he staring at her like she took his money?!

A faint scent of ozone and rain-kissed earth wafted toward her, exuding from the masked man. It was such an unexpected pleasure considering how arrogant he was. She tried to focus on the city's blur outside the window, ignoring the mysterious figure beside her.

… but that was an impossible quest.

A magnetic force, crackling and sizzling through every passage in her vein was drawing her to him… why? He was just a jerk!