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CHAPTER 1

Melbourne

A month ago

The light shone on an empty silver plate resting on a podium covered in black velvet. Gentle music floated in the air, lulling the audience and creating an enchanting ambience. The sound of thunder rumbled across the room. Sparks of lightning hit the silver tray, and wisps of smoke swirled up from the floor of the stage.

At the third lightning strike, an exquisite crystal shoe appeared on the tray.

A spotlight poured down from above, encircling the silver tray and the digital image of the shoe upon it.

The audience clapped as a man dressed in a formal black suit and bow tie stepped onto the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce you to In Her Shoe, one of the most sophisticated pieces of digital art in this century, created by our talented digital artist Adriana Oliveira, original artwork by Juliette LeBlanc.”

A sign announcing this show had been projected to the audience outside the auction room. The grand hall of National Gallery Victoria exploded with applause.

However, it was quiet in this room because it was a place reserved for serious investors, collectors, and others who were here to buy artwork.

Ciaran diverted his attention to the cell phone he held in his hand as new items were introduced.

The Melbourne art precinct was one of Ciaran’s favorite places in Australia. He managed to visit whenever his business took him to this country. But this time, it was a planned visit to the exhibition center, and the business negotiation in town was only an excuse.

A message from the CEO of the LeBlanc conglomerate popped up on the screen of his cell phone. “Where are you, Ciaran?”

“Linsey, the right question is whether the meeting this afternoon went well. And the answer is yes, we got the deal. I’ll be at London headquarters the day after tomorrow.”

“All right, I’ll reschedule my plans. See you in the office. A quick question. What do you want me to do with the bunch of hackers we caught?”

“I don’t see them as a threat. Make sure they have nothing from our system, and then let them go.”

“You’re in a charitable mood.”

“No, but I don’t want to waste our resources on low-caliber thieves.”

“Will do. Bye, Ciaran.”

Another message popped up, this one from his brother. “I know you’re where you shouldn’t be, Ciaran. I put two security guards there.”

Ciaran rolled his eyes and glanced toward the back of the room. Two men in suits sat there, trying their best to look like the other people in the room. But to Ciaran, they stuck out like sore thumbs. He shook his head.

“This is a low profile event, Tadgh. I won’t be exposed, and there's no press in this private auction room. You’re my little brother, not my father.”

“I’m just worried about my own ass. You need to take care of the family business while I'm having fun on safari. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Want a souvenir boomerang?”

“Shut up, Ciaran. Get back to London in one piece.”

The auction for the shoe had begun. Ciaran didn’t pay much attention to the bidding. It would start slow, and he’d let it grow before he scooped it up in the final bid.

He stared at the digital image of the crystal shoe. It was almost as if he was looking at Juliette’s original artwork.

She had made this before they were married. Ciaran had no idea it existed. She had never mentioned her involvement in the art project until she asked for his help to retrieve her work. He refused, but only because he wanted to obtain the item for her surprise birthday present.

He never had a chance to tell her that he'd begun the search for her work. Losing her so suddenly was painful. And the idea that she had died thinking he didn’t care made his emotional wound unhealable.

“Thirty thousand dollars!” the auctioneer said in delight. “Can I have more? Anyone else want a chance to own this one-of-a-kind beauty?” He paused. “Thirty thousand going once. Thirty thousand going twice.”

Ciaran raised his bidding card.

“We have thirty-one thousand from bidder number nine.”

Ciaran clenched his jaw. The bidding seemed to move at a snail's pace.

The person who bid thirty thousand raised his card.

“Thirty-two thousand.”

“Thirty-three thousand.” The auctioneer acknowledged Ciaran’s bid.

“Thirty-four thousand,” the person returned.

Ciaran voiced his bid. “Fifty thousand.”

The other person appeared to receive instructions on his cell phone. The auctioneer gave him a few seconds and was about to announce the win for Ciaran.

“A hundred thousand,” the man said and turned to look at Ciaran. His eyes sparked in a strange, almost neon-green shade in the dim light of the room.

“Two hundred thousand,” Ciaran bid.

The man smirked. “Three hundred.”

Ciaran nodded, acknowledging the man’s intention to drag out the auction. The man wanted to play games, but Ciaran liked winning. Money had never been an issue with the LeBlancs. But time was.

“One million.”

The room temperature seemed to drop when Ciaran lifted the bid to seven figures.

Now the man had to consult with someone on the phone again.

“Two million.”

Ciaran smiled. “Four.”

“Four point five.” 

Ciaran heard the pitch of the man’s voice rise, and he knew when to throw the fatal punch.

“Six million.”

The man shook his head, stood up, and left the room.

The room applauded. The spotlight swung toward Ciaran.

“Congratulations to the owner of In Her Shoe. Ciaran LeBlanc!”

Ciaran's security guards stood up at the back of the room when the auctioneer accidentally revealed his name.

“Sorry, I meant the highest priced item of the event, sponsored by the LeBlanc conglomerate. Now that we've concluded this auction, ladies and gentlemen, please head to the VIP lounge for the celebration.” The auctioneer signaled his staff to clear the room.

Ciaran’s security stood a few feet away from him and stopped anyone, especially the press, from approaching.

“I am so sorry, Mr. LeBlanc.”

“Ciaran, please.” He shook the auctioneer’s hand.

“Your name wasn’t on the list. Plus, the room was dark, and I didn’t recognize you. You didn’t have to bid. You already sponsored the whole event. All you needed to do was pick the piece you liked, and it would have been yours.”

“It’s only fair to bid, and I think it’s good for the artist's exposure.”

“Speaking of the artist—this is Ms. Adriana Oliveira.”

Adriana approached with a radiant smile on her beautiful oval face and a glass of champagne in her hand. An elegant dress wrapped around her perfect body, as perfect as her artwork.

“So, you are the famous Ciaran LeBlanc.”

“I’m not sure what I'm famous for. I admire your work, Ms. Oliveira. It’s very nice to meet you in person.”

She smiled.

“It’s my honor to meet the man behind the passion that inspires my work.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t mean to make a fuss about the shoe when you called and asked to buy it. The shoe was a small inspiration for my work. The love your late wife put into it was a large part of the inspiration. But even working as a commercial artist for a long time, I still found it hard to complete that piece. Until you called me.”

“Except for the offer to buy the shoe, I don't recall giving you anything else—not even information about why I wanted to buy the shoe.”

She chuckled. “You gave me the vision of your love and devotion for her. I could feel it in the way you asked me for the shoe. It was as if it was the most delicate thing, the most precious thing you could possess in life. It’s not the shoe, but your memory of her. You treasure that. And you didn’t want to cause any friction that might break the memory. You didn’t want to force anything, because forcing love will only break it.”

“I don’t analyze my own emotions. But I appreciate that you gave it so much thought, and I’m glad you could use that one phone call as the inspiration to complete the work.”

“That’s just the surface of your emotional ocean, Ciaran. But thank you for your support. The original artwork, the shoe, is now yours. It’s in a box underneath the digital display.” She gestured toward the podium.

The auctioneer smiled. “I wager you’d like to have a bit of time by yourself here. I’ve cleared and secured the room.”

He nodded goodbye and took Ms. Oliveira out of the room. Ciaran's security left to stand guard at the door.

Alone in the room, Ciaran looked at the digital version of the shoe Juliette made. It was an exquisite and beautiful digital representation of the original artwork.

Despite what others had said about Juliette and what she did, Ciaran believed the shoe was simply a piece of art she had created.

As he approached the stage to get the shoe, a 3D figure of a beautiful woman appeared, standing in front of the stage. She looked mesmerized by the shoe.

It was impressive, Ciaran thought.

The Triennial exhibition was going on in the art gallery. Before coming to this exhibition, Ciaran had seen some of the digital art performances in other rooms. Digital art, digital light, and digital projection merged classic paintings with the real environment and made the audience feel like they were in a magical forest or at the bottom of a deep ocean.

He liked what he had seen in the other rooms. But this life-size digital image was much better. It was so real. Almost like the hologram technology he was investing in.

The woman stood, staring at the shoe on the podium.

He smiled to himself and continued to the stage.

“Excuse me!”

The woman's voice was real. He could tell it didn’t come from a speaker. He turned around.

“Excuse me, that’s my shoe. I would like to have it back, please.”

“If you mean the digital artwork, I own it. I just won the auction for it.”

The woman blinked and looked at him with striking, beautiful blue eyes. He swore he saw a tear rolling down her face. She couldn’t possibly be a digital image.

“I understand the shoes are a work of magic. But they were given to me, and I need to have this one before midnight.”

“Oh no—don’t tell me you’re Cinderella.”

“How do you know my name?”

CHAPTER 2

Ciaran stood next to the podium where the digital art version of the shoe was displayed and stared at the image of the beautiful woman who claimed that she was Cinderella. Aside from film and theater representations, he didn’t know what Cinderella was supposed to look like. But for some strange reason, the woman's presence made him feel as if she was the Cinderella, if the character was indeed something other than a concept.

Ciaran kept his mind open to unexplained phenomena, but most of the time, he preferred to stick to what he knew best—science.

“Assuming I believe that you're Cinderella, and I want to give you this digital artwork, you couldn't even take it with you. It’s not a tangible thing.”

“I don't understand. It’s a shoe from a pair I was given.”

She held up the other shoe, and Ciaran could see that beneath the skirt of her beautiful princess-like dress, she was missing a shoe. The shoe on her foot did indeed look like the shoe on display.

“I’m sorry, but this is just a digital image. I know it looks like a match for the other you have, and it perfectly complements your dress, but you can’t physically take it with you. Here, let me show you.”

Ciaran switched off the digital display from the control panel on the podium, and the digital artwork vanished.

The room darkened several shades when the light from the display went out. But he could still see the devastated look on the woman’s face.

Ciaran stepped down from the stage. He approached Cinderella to give her some comfort.

“Look, I don’t know how this works, but—” As soon as he touched her arm, it felt like he had been electrocuted. The zap sent him back several feet. His knees almost buckled, but he managed to remain standing.

The guards stormed into the room.

“Are you okay, Mr. LeBlanc?”

The woman stood there, blinking at him. She looked as if she wanted to approach him, but her movement seemed restricted to a meter's circumference. The guards didn’t see the woman at all.

He gestured to stop the guards from walking into the center of the room, afraid they might accidentally collide with the woman’s image.

“I’m fine. I need to leave now. Can you get the car and park on the West side of the gallery, please?”

One of the guards left. Ciaran looked at the remaining one. “Could you get me my jacket from the cloakroom, please? I checked in as Anonymous Bidder Number 9.”

The guard hesitated but then left to do what Ciaran asked.

Ciaran returned to the woman. “How can I help you?”

She raised the shoe. “I lost a shoe when I ran away from the ball, and the prince has it. He’ll come to me soon. I’ll try the shoe on and show him this one that completes the pair. Then we will be united. We can be together happily ever after.”

Ciaran nodded. “I know that part of the story. But I still don’t know how I can help you.”

“This afternoon, my godmother told me that the shoe in the prince’s possession has been swapped for a different size. That means, when he comes to see me tomorrow, the shoe won’t fit me. Godmother said the correct shoe is here. She sent me here to get the shoe so she can replace the one in the prince's possession. But now the shoe has vanished. The prince and I can never be together.”

“Cinderella, what you saw was a digital image. You can’t physically bring it to your world and give it to your godmother. And you saw what happened to me when I tried to touch you. I don’t think you can interact with this environment without being hurt. That’s why your movement is restricted within the small space where you're standing right now.”

She frowned.

“Simply speaking, I don’t think you can take any object in this room with you. Here, see if you can hold this water bottle.”

He placed a bottle on the floor close to where she stood. When she reached down to pick up the bottle, her hand went right through it. Frightened, she stepped back and away from the bottle.

“Did your godmother give you any instructions on how to get the shoe she needs back to your world? How do you even know this is the right shoe?”

“She said I’ll know the shoe when I see it. But I can only take what I’m given.”

“All right, that’s very cryptic. I am absolutely certain that this is not your shoe. But I’m going to give it a go to see if I can help you.”

Ciaran took the box with the shoe from underneath the podium and put the shoe on the silver tray atop the podium. It was the first time he had held Juliette's artwork—an elegant life-size crystal shoe—in his hand. Ciaran had dealt enough with symbolism to know that this piece of art represented infinite love. But they had been happily married, so why did Juliette suddenly want to track down an old art project symbolizing love?

Cinderella’s voice pulled his mind back to the current reality.

“This is the shoe.” Tears rolled down her face.

“It’s not possible. This is my wife’s creation.”

“So you’re not going to give me the shoe?”

Juliette was dead. There was nothing he could do to bring her back. It didn’t matter if this fairy-tale character in front of him was real. She was a woman in distress, and she had a real problem that he could help solve. He was more than certain that wherever his wife might be, she would forgive him for not retrieving her work as promised.

“I will give you this shoe.” He picked up the shoe and placed it on the floor next to the bottle of water.

Cinderella tried to grasp the shoe. But just like with the bottle, her hand went right through it.

CHAPTER 3

As much as he wanted to give some comfort to Cinderella, having learned a lesson from the previous electrical zap, Ciaran avoided physical contact. There must be a reason she couldn’t touch the shoe even though she had been sent there to collect it.

“Assuming you can get the shoe, how will you get back to your world?”

"Godmother said if I go before midnight to a place where I can see the moonlight, she will take me home.”

“I assume your godmother is a fairy?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Okay then, so setting the shoe hunting aside for now, you can’t seem to move from where you're standing. And I’m quite sure we aren’t going to see any moonlight in this room.”

Cinderella tried to walk toward the far end of the room, but it seemed like she hit an invisible wall. She gave the unseen barrier a shoulder shove, but it didn’t seem to budge.

She tried again to pick up Juliette’s shoe. Her attempt failed. She put the other shoe on her foot, balanced on one leg, and tried to slide her other foot into Juliette’s shoe.

Ciaran smiled, seeing the determined look on her face. As much as he wanted to help, he wasn’t quite sure how to do so at the moment.

The fact that she was standing on one leg while wearing a high-heeled shoe was impressive. But she couldn't hold that position for long. Just like her hand, her foot went right through Juliette’s shoe. She teetered off-balance and fell to her side.

The shoe she was wearing slid off her foot and spun away on the polished floor.

And then strange things happened. In front of Ciaran’s eyes, Juliette’s shoe slid across the floor toward its partner. Simultaneous with the movement of the shoes, Cinderella’s body moved toward the shoe that had left her foot.

Both Cinderella and the pair of shoes were now at the far end of the room.

Ciaran approached, intrigued, but kept his distance.

“It seems to me that the shoe in your possession is the main piece of the puzzle. You can go where it goes. It brought you here because it was attracted to the other shoe in the pair, its other half.

“Its soulmate?”

“I wouldn’t go that far, Cinderella.”

“If they are a pair, why can’t I touch the other shoe?”

“I don’t know. But if you can move with the shoe, then I think I have a solution for you. I know where your godmother can pick you up.”

Ciaran picked up Juliette’s shoe and placed it back in the box. He touched the other shoe with his finger to see if it zapped him. It didn’t. So he put both shoes in the box and closed the lid.

“There is a glass ceiling as large as a castle's courtyard in the grand hall of this building. You can see the moonlight through it. I’ll take the shoe box there. I assume you'll be able to follow me when I’m carrying it. Let’s try it out.”

He went to the opposite end of the room. Cinderella could walk easily with him without touching the shoe box.

“The room with the glass ceiling is open to the public. My security guards didn’t see you before, so I think you can go there without drawing attention. But I'm not sure if normal people can see the shoes—or your godmother when she picks you up. I think it’s better to wait until the exhibition ends.”

“If other people can't see me, why can you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Thank you for doing this for me. Do you think my godmother might be able to take the shoes for me?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have an answer for you. We’ll see what happens. If she can’t, then we’ll figure something out.”

“Why did you agree to help me, Mr. LeBlanc?”

He looked into her beautiful and innocent but stubborn eyes. “Because if my wife was still alive, she would have done the same thing.”

“She must have been a good person.”

He didn’t want to complicate the world of a fairy-tale character. So he smiled and said nothing.

His phone buzzed.

“Tadgh, can’t you survive for five minutes without talking to me?”

“It hasn't been five minutes. You missed your flight an hour ago. I'm just calling to make sure you’re still breathing!”

“Bullshit.” Ciaran looked at the clock. He had indeed lost more than an hour. But what had happened in this room couldn't have taken more than ten minutes.

Time just didn't vanish like that. Somehow, something had shifted the time.

He looked at Cinderella. The only thing that had moved safely across her space and his space in this room was the shoe.

He didn’t have time to dissect the matter any further. If an hour had passed, then the exhibition would be finished. They could now go to the room with the glass ceiling.

“Ciaran!”

“Yes, Tadgh. I'm sorry—I lost track of time. I’ll reschedule my flight for tomorrow. I’ll call you a bit later.”

“What are you doing, Ciaran?”

“Talk later. I’m busy, Tadgh.”

“You know I don’t interfere with any of your work, right?”

“Except when it has anything to do with Juliette. I know, Tadgh. I know what you and the rest of the world think about her. But I am here simply to buy a piece of art she made. There's nothing more to it.”

“I have no doubt what you had with her was real. It could have even been the L-word.”

“It’s irrelevant, Tadgh. I know you aren’t concerned about Juliette. You're worried about those she might have worked for.”

“Oh, being concerned is an understatement, Ciaran. My blood pressure skyrockets whenever I hear her name. She is your weakness, whether you like it or not. And I only have one brother. Let me remind you that you almost had your heart ripped out of your chest in the last encounter. So, I’m sorry if I’m a little more than concerned.”

“Look, Tadgh. Seriously, it’s no big deal. I’ll be on the flight tomorrow—I can guarantee you that. And this is a bonus—this is the last item of her artwork that I'm going to acquire. I won’t do this anymore. You happy?”

“Only when I see you in London.”

“See me for real? I thought you were somewhere in an African jungle.”

“I was. I brought the chimpanzees home with me. See you in a couple of days.”

Ciaran hung up the phone and smiled at Cinderella. “Sorry, that was my little brother. He’s overreacting.”

“How did my shoe end up as your wife’s work?”

“I don’t know, Cinderella. I have many questions for her, but I will never have a chance to ask. If you believe this is your shoe, and it will help you with your problem with the prince, then let’s do this. The grand hall should be clear by now. Let’s go.”

As they turned to walk toward the door, the door slid open, and the man who lost the auction walked in.

“You’re going nowhere with that shoe, Ciaran LeBlanc.”

Like Ciaran’s security guards, this man couldn’t see Cinderella.

“My guards will be here soon. I hired them from some of the top agencies in the country. I’d leave now if I were you.”

The man pulled a small clear plastic bag out from his pocket and showed it to Ciaran. The tags in the bag were smeared with bloodstains.

“Ordinary security guards shouldn’t stand up to a mercenary of my caliber. If they had cooperated and told me where you were, I wouldn’t have killed them.”

Rage washed over Ciaran. He’d killed before, and he’d done unimaginable things. But he’d never killed innocent men for just doing their job.

“What do you want?”

“The shoe. Put the box on the floor and leave. I killed your chauffeur, so you’ll have to take a cab.” The man tucked the bag in his pocket and pulled out a handgun.

“Don’t make me use this on you.”

Ciaran put the shoebox on the floor.

The man used his foot to open the lid. “Why are there two shoes?”

“Shoes usually come in pairs.”

“Which one is the one Juliette made? Never mind. I’ll take the pair.” He bent down to pick up the box. Ciaran slammed a hard kick into his head. While he was down, Ciaran kicked the gun away.

“Go right now, before I change my mind.”

The man stood up and turned for the door.

As Ciaran bent down to pick up the shoebox, the man suddenly turned back with a knife in his hand and swung it at him. Ciaran dodged the blade but was off-balance and retreated a few steps. He fell on his back.

The man lunged forward, his knife already in a downward arc.

Ciaran was about to roll away when he saw Cinderella charge at the man. She collided with him before he reached Ciaran. The man’s body was thrown several feet away and dropped to the floor.

Ciaran knew the strength of Cinderella's impact because he'd experienced it before. But the man didn’t seem to be much affected. His neon green eyes glimmered, the same eyes Ciaran had seen earlier in the night.

The man stood up.

Cinderella was about to charge at him again. But Ciaran knew it wouldn’t have any effect this time.

The mercenary’s eyes seemed to glow with green flames.

“Bitch, where did you come from?”

The mercenary seemed to have transformed into something inhuman. A green and purple halo glowed around his hands and head. And now he could see Cinderella.

Ciaran knew he would cause significant damage to Cinderella if she attacked him again. But she was already on her way, charging at the mercenary.

Ciaran rolled toward the gun on the floor, picked it up, pointed it at the mercenary, and pulled the trigger.

Ciaran knew the mercenary’s gun was powerful, but he had no idea it was that strong. With one hit, he blew the mercenary's head off.

Blood and gore spewed toward Cinderella but hit the invisible wall protecting her. Then the body of the hitman liquified and evaporated.

Ciaran had seen stranger things. But he wasn’t sure how this violent event would affect Cinderella.

He approached her. “I’m sorry that what you saw when you came to this world for the first time was extreme violence. But it had to be done. He attacked us first.”

She turned and looked at him with innocent and beautiful eyes. The stubbornness he had seen before in those eyes was still there, unwavering.

“I understand. I haven’t experienced such violence in my world. But I’m sure it’s there. At least now I’ll be prepared.”

***

This is the end of the sample chapters. Thank you for reading.

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