That damn Disney Cinderella was really lucky compared to me...

I stood up in silence, went to my dresser and rummaged around in it. Because of the sloping ceilings on both sides of my room, you could only move upright in certain areas. But that didn't bother me at all, I was rather short and had exactly the perfect height for the room.

I quickly slipped out of my cozy, baggy pajamas and put on a loose, black, washed-out sweater and light, oversized jeans that hung baggily around my legs.

Since I didn't have any money myself and Luna only gave me the bare minimum for my daily needs, I only got second-hand clothes. I also had the feeling that Luna deliberately chose only the most horrible items for me and, to top it all off, expected me to thank her almost profusely for them.

"Be thankful that we took you into our care when even your own mother didn't want you anymore," she once said to me. This sentence was deeply and painfully burned into my heart and I would probably never forget it in my life.

"You have been a burden on us since you arrived, so show your gratitude for our kindness and work off your debts!" ​​were also her words.

And that was exactly the reason why I had to help out in the family household for a few years. I spent my childhood in the kitchen, helping the cook or helping the housemaid with the cleaning. While the Stirling triplets were able to enjoy an idyllic and privileged picture-book childhood in the same house, right under my nose.

After the last domestic help quit about four weeks ago because of the triplets' unacceptable behavior, everything was left to me.

When I was dressed, I went down the two flights of stairs to the ground floor to use the bathroom. I quickly jumped into the shower and then looked at myself in the mirror. My long, dark blonde curls, the color of sand, reached down to my waist when wet and, to my dismay, they mostly had a life of their own.

I always had to untangle them with a comb and liked to tie them up because when I wore them open they would swing around my face like corkscrews and just get in the way of my daily work.

When I was about ten or eleven, I once cut my hair short myself and was met with a lot of ridicule and scorn from the triplets.

"You look ridiculous, like a matted poodle!" Blake teased me venomously and Ashton rebuked me fiercely: "We are proud wolves, not shaggy dogs. You are insulting our pack!"

I had to admit that I looked like a hedgehog with a perm for a while, but it still affected me. From then on, I let my hair grow and never wore it shorter again.

To my dismay, the triplets found a new way to bully me by pulling on my long hair whenever I wore it down. This habit has stuck to this day, and I hardly ever wear my hair down.

With a practiced hand, I tied my still slightly damp hair into a high bun. After looking in the mirror, I sighed. Dark blue rings were clearly visible under my doe-brown eyes. I had overworked myself. Or rather, the Stirling family had overworked me. It was all slowly getting on top of me.

But it was all to no avail, I had to prepare breakfast for the family. As Luna had requested, there were pancakes, scrambled eggs with bacon and fresh dark bread that was brought to us by a supplier. Then I put butter, maple syrup, cheese and sausage on the already laid table and brewed a pot of coffee.

I decided to make myself a cup of tea and was just about to go back to my place at the kitchen counter to sit down for a moment when Victoria came in.

She wore a neat dark green dress that made her green eyes shine, and her pale skin in contrast to her dark hair and lush red lips reminded me of Snow White. Only Luna was more of the evil queen than the friendly Snow White.

I quietly wished her good morning, while she just gave me a cold look and eyed me skeptically: "Are you finished with everything already?"

I nodded submissively and could see from her face that she didn't like it.

"I would like a carafe of freshly squeezed orange juice today, would you please take care of it?" she asked politely but in an ice-cold tone, did not wait for my answer and disappeared into the dining room. She did not even grant me a moment's peace, she hated me so much.

As I stood up with a quiet sigh, Alpha Roland entered the room. With my head bowed, I wished him a good morning too, he just nodded at me and walked past me without saying a word. At least he didn't give me any extra work. He himself had never asked me to do anything before. In general, he just didn't pay any attention to me at all. Apparently, in his eyes, I wasn't even worth being spoken to by him.

I was just carrying the basket full of oranges out of the pantry when I suddenly heard heavy footsteps and loud voices on the stairs and was frightened. The triplets were coming! The next moment the door swung wide open and they came in.

They were tall, at least a head and a half taller than me, and resembled their father. Shiny black hair, striking faces, and light blue eyes framed by thick dark eyelashes that would make any girl jealous. They were also well built, broad-shouldered, and muscular. They were identical in appearance, apart from their styling preferences.

Ashton, as the oldest, was also the strictest and most serious. His cool and calculating manner was often intimidating, which gave him an incredible resemblance to his father. He would certainly rule the pack with an iron hand and a stoic attitude. Theoretically, he could have claimed leadership of the pack for himself, which is why he always had the last word over his two little brothers. He usually wore his medium-length black hair neatly combed into a middle parting, and it fell down to frame his face on the right and left.

Blake was the typical sandwich child. He loved being the center of attention, was cheeky, played the meanest pranks and always had a cool saying on his lips. Everything he said always sounded funny or ironic. He was the impulsive daredevil and undisputed womanizer of the three. As the complete opposite of his big brother, I would say that his mouth worked faster than his brain. Although I would never dare say that to his face. His impulsive streak made him far too scary for that. He was also the one who gave me the most trouble. His style was casual as always and his thick black hair was tousled and always looked like he had just gotten up.

Collin, the youngest of the brothers, was extremely charming and his mother's favorite son. He was the calmest and most sensitive of the brothers. He was attentive and a good listener. He usually mediated in arguments or disagreements between them and smoothed things over. He didn't miss a thing. Which could also be intimidating and dangerous in a way. But he was also the only one in the family who treated me almost like a normal person. Despite that, or perhaps because of that, I reminded myself to be just as careful in his presence as I was with the other two. He was the most fashion-conscious of the three and combed his hair to the side in a slight wave with a little gel.

"What are you going to do with that pile of oranges?" Collin asked, eyeing me skeptically as I struggled to carry the heavy basket to the kitchen counter.

I tried to ignore them, walked past them and put down the oranges with a sigh of relief. As I did so, I noticed someone reaching for my hairband and trying to undo my bun.

I quickly tried to dodge and took a step to the side, inadvertently bumping into Blake, who had stepped next to me without me noticing.

He looked down at me with a nasty grin: "Have you been asleep for a hundred years, Cindy? The baggy look is totally out and doesn't suit you at all."

My real name was Ella, but no one had called me that for a long time.

Shortly after I moved into the Stirlings' house, the triplets mockingly named me Cinderella. Because of my backpack and my favorite book, which I always carried around with me. Later, because of the housework I had to do. At some point, Blake got tired of constantly using the long name Cinderella, so he shortened it to Cindy and unfortunately it stuck.

For a while they thought it was really funny to introduce me to everyone and everywhere as Cindy, and now even at school they thought that was my real name. I used to be far too shy and anxious to correct them and now I just didn't care. In a few months I would leave all that behind me, let them think what they wanted.

I wanted to dismiss Blake's stupid attempt to make fun of me by pointing out that it wasn't Cinderella who had slept for a hundred years, but Sleeping Beauty. But I held back as usual, stepped away from him and bowed my head.

That's always worked best for me. Just don't add fuel to the fire.

The next moment I felt a brief tug and my curls fell around me like an avalanche of corkscrews and danced. I quickly brushed them out of my face and behind my ears.

Ashton stood behind me, waving my captured hairband smugly. Another hobby they had taken up. But by far not the worst thing they had thought up for me in recent years.

Just to list my top five:

Starting with the day they locked me in the attic because Cinderella was locked in her tower room. Only after numerous calls and requests and begging did they let me out again because I really needed to go to the toilet and an accident almost happened.

Followed by the mouse that they once secretly smuggled into my room. It unexpectedly visited me in my bed one night and made me jump out screaming and almost fall down the stairs. They then mocked me, saying that Cinderella was supposed to be friends with mice...

This was followed by hiding one pair of each pair of my shoes so that I had to wear two different shoes to school for a week. Cinderella had unfortunately lost her one glass slipper...

That was topped off the day they secretly put ash in my hairdryer and I used it to completely blacken myself after a shower. I had a coughing fit like death and thought I was going to suffocate. But they just laughed at me because it was exactly the right make-up for Cinderella.

My one and only top one, however, was the thing with my bicycle. They once secretly removed the wheels in a covert operation. When I then came into the garage in the morning and wanted to ride the bike to school, the frame was propped up on two huge ornamental pumpkins.

"A vehicle befitting our little Cinderella," Blake had gleefully called it at the time.

That day, despite a desperate sprint, I missed the bus and ended up having to walk all the way to school.

A hairband that had been taken off early in the morning was nothing compared to that.

Ashton waved the hairband back and forth above my head while Blake and Collin laughed loudly and watched me try to grab it.

"Stop it, this isn't funny!" I begged her and reached for the hair tie again. But Ashton didn't even think about it and threw it to Blake, who caught it and put it in his pocket.

I walked up to Blake and tried to grab the bag, but he quickly backed away. Then a huge grin came across his face and he shoved me backwards with his elbow, sending me tumbling into Ashton, who shoved me forward again.

So they played ping pong with me. 

"I give up! Keep it!" I shouted resignedly, while the triplets barked and laughed at me.

The next moment, Luna entered the kitchen. She must have heard the commotion all the way into the dining room and watched the events with her cold green eyes.

Then she gave me a bitter, angry look: "Why are you standing here enjoying yourself? Didn't I ask you for something?"

Her cold tone made me immediately flinch and replied meekly, "Sorry."

A second later, her face thawed and suddenly looked softer and more motherly: "Come, my dear children, let's have breakfast."

With these words she disappeared back into the dining room. Her three sons grinned at me maliciously and followed her.

When I was alone again, I breathed a sigh of relief.

My everyday life here in the house was a real gauntlet. As if it wasn't stressful enough to run a whole household, cook for a family and, on top of that, complete my last year of high school.

If I could get through this, nothing would be able to get me down, I thought desperately.

Then I took some oranges out of the basket, cut them up and squeezed them with the electric juicer. I hated this job. You had to squeeze countless of the damn things for a single jug of juice.

At the same time, I tried to hurry so as not to upset Victoria even more. When I was finally finished, I immediately rushed into the dining room with the jug.

Luna was the only one still sitting at the table, which was now almost empty.

"I'm sorry it took so long," I apologized again submissively and placed the jug of freshly squeezed orange juice on the table.

She blew out the air between her teeth and said venomously, "Make sure you clean up before you go."

Then she stood up in an arrogant manner and whispered in my ear as she passed: "I don't want the juice anymore, so throw it away."