Finding Cinderella

ღ Finding Cinderella (4)

ღ Finding Cinderella- 4 ღ

-Kylie-

"Tristan, you are the worst!" I yelled at the top of my lungs as he carried me through yet another parking lot.

I had refused to leave the car the minute I'd seen the Runaway Shoppe, but Tristan had overpowered me once again, tossing me over his shoulder without breaking a sweat. The store was exactly the kind of place I hated so whatever Tristan was planning to do there, it couldn't have been good.

When we stepped through the glass doors, though, I was stunned. The shop was so colossal; a Ferris wheel would've fit inside without a problem. Everything around looked so exquisite. The pink room we had entered contained a front desk, makeup displays, couture dresses, and accessory racks, along with a variety of other luxury items that I couldn't even begin to count. If I hadn't known any better, I would've easily mistaken this place for a mansion.

Tristan immediately dropped me on a pink squishy couch, leaving me to bounce off the hard part in the middle. Damn, my butt hurt! I had probably already broken twenty bones today because of his terrible manners.

"Tristan, I hate you," I muttered, gritting my teeth, "I hate you to the moon and back. You always make me feel like doing a roundhouse kick to your face." Pushing myself off the couch, I tried to make a break for it, but he just stepped in front of me in one sudden movement.

My eyes flashed. "Oh, for fuck's sake—"

"Stay here and keep quiet," he cut me off with a straight face, "or else I'll have to find a leash."

"What do you think I am, a freaking canine?" I shouted, making some of the customers look at me in shock. My face heated up, not with embarrassment, but with fury.

Tristan was about to reply when a woman seemingly in her forties emerged from the back of the store, calling his name in surprise. She was clad in a well-designed floral dress as if she had just stepped out of a fashion magazine. I was a little confused until I realized she was probably the Runaway Shoppe's manager.

Oh yeah, Tristan was freaking rich—how could I have forgotten? His dad was a well-known engineer with affiliates practically everywhere, and I wouldn't have been surprised if he had connections with the Yakuza.

"Tristan, welcome!" the dark-haired woman said, giving him a hug that he returned easily. "It's been a while..." she trailed off as her cat-like eyes noticed me. Then she smiled. "Oh, you brought a girlfriend, I see."

Hoo boy. Why did it always have to be like this? Whenever we went places together, people always saw us as a couple. How could they misinterpret such total enemies as star-crossed lovers? This was why I absolutely hated being around Tristan. Anything to do with him meant headaches, headaches, and more headaches.

Sinking down into the couch, I crossed my arms and sighed with impatience.

Meanwhile, Tristan was snickering as he shook his head. "No, Morgan, she's just a friend." He threw a cocky grin at me, and I scowled.