TAINT ME, DADDIES

2: What Could Possibly Go Wrong

2: MAISIE

I made sure to stop thinking about them. I ignored them in school and also made sure that our paths didn't cross. Two weeks after that welcome back to campus party, I had forced myself to stop thinking about them so much that it seemed like that night never happened.

Until Dad mentioned their name during dinner one evening, and all the buried memories came rushing back.

“You allowed that Vanderbilt boy to beat you again?” Dad’s voice was venomous, and with the way he said Vanderbilt, you'd think that name was the reason for every single bad thing in his life. His question was directed to Knox, who was sitting right beside him and whose fingers had now tightened around his cutlery.

I knew this wasn't going to end well—nothing about Dad mentioning that family ever ended well.

“What's so difficult about staying at the top of your class? Why do you keep losing to them? Why are you… Why are you so useless and unworthy of the name Hawthorne?”

“Disown me then,” Knox's voice was cold as he replied, his gaze intent on his plate of fried rice, meat, prawns, chicken, and sauce, “Let me go. Since I'm unworthy of the name Hawthorne, just let me…”

He couldn't complete his statement because Dad threw his glass of water at him. It missed him narrowly and shattered on the wall behind us.

I flinched. Knox didn't blink either.

“You, ungrateful little…”

“Darling, please calm down,” Mom said opposite us as she reached out to his clenched fists. She was all dressed up in a long, glistening black gown with her hair straightened, “You have to calm down so you won't get your blood pressure up. Knox is a child. He'll come around.”

Dad didn't say anything. He only fumed and glared before concentrating his attention on his food. We weren't always like this. Dad wasn't always like that.

He was once caring. Loving and amazing. He read us bedtime stories, rode bicycles, and indulged all our fantasies and delusions. Then Grandpa died, and Dad changed completely. It was safe to say the version of the Dad we knew died with Grandpa because he became this volatile and angry person who did nothing but compare Knox to the Vanderbilt brothers and punish him if he never measured up.

Mom had never been her own person. Ever since I've known her, she has always aimed to please her husband, even at the detriment of her children.

We continued eating in silence while I counted down till the time we'd be done and I'd be free to escape to the comfort of my room.

“Ohh, that reminds me, Maisie,” Mom shattered the perfect silence, “your fiancé is coming next Friday for dinner and for official introductions.”

I stared at her beaming face, then stared at the whole table. Dad was eating as if she didn't just say that. Only Knox’s expression mirrored mine.

“Maisie is engaged?”

“Yeah, told her a couple of days ago that it's signed and done.”

“I thought you were joking, Mom,” I couldn't control the edge in my voice, “how am I engaged? I'm just 22 and in my third year. And why am I engaged to a man I don't even know? I don't agree to this. I don't…”

Knox placed his palm on my knees to calm me down.

“Well, it's a fortunate thing that you don't have a say in this topic.”

“I don't have a say in my life? In my marriage? We're not in some medieval period and…”

“Quiet, Maisie,” Dad commanded, and that was the end of it. I couldn't eat anymore, and neither could Knox.

I went to see Mom the next morning. Sometimes we bonded well, and I was sure I could appeal to her motherly side so that the engagement would be canceled. But it was a done deal. My fiancé, whose name I didn't even know, was 18 years older than me and a prominent British businessman. He had invested millions of dollars into our family business in exchange for my hand in marriage. His investment was the only reason we managed to beat the Vanderbilt Empire in ratings and revenue. If he pulls out, we'd fall behind them again, and Dad would kill me for making that happen.

So there was nothing to do but wait patiently until Friday evening. I kept zoning out in class, staring into space, losing focus. Angela asked me what was wrong, but I had nothing to tell her. How could I tell her that the only daughter of the Hawthorne Empire, with all our wealth and influence, was being forced into a marriage?

Knox tried to cheer me up, too, but there was little to nothing that he could do.

And soon enough, it was Friday. Mom had seasoned chefs over to cook different delicacies. The house was being dusted and cleaned till everywhere sparkled. Everybody seemed to be in a joyous mood at the prospect of my funeral because that was what it was.

I sat in my room, unable to believe that this was really happening. A first-class student and student leader at the prestigious Elite College was being forced into an engagement. I didn't want to go along with it, but there was no other option. I couldn't run away. The resources at Dad’s disposal would make him find me in hours.

I couldn't escape, but I could… I could rebel.

The thought sprang into my head while I was sitting in front of the mirror, waiting for the makeup artist my mom said would soon arrive. I could rebel. I didn't know how, but I could do a couple of things. I could run away for that night and make a statement by not attending the dinner. I could do a disguise makeover, go to a club, have fun… probably even hook up with a guy as an act of rebellion and a way to gain control of my life.

I did just that. It didn't even take 20 minutes for me to transform my face into someone who didn't look like me. I worked as a makeup artist on a drama set while in high school. When I was done, my cheekbones looked shaper, my nose more rounded, my lips fuller, and my eyes bigger. I also sprayed my hair until it turned brownish-black instead of plain black. It was also easy to leave the house. With the whole festivities and preparations going on, nobody noticed me slipping away.

I thought the security guards at the gate would be a hassle, but they didn't even recognize me. My favorite of them stared right into my eyes and couldn't even tell it was me.

My disguise was that good. I took the bus instead of an Uber or hailing a cab, and I changed buses at intervals until I reached the farthest club from home.

The club was crowded. People were dancing in all corners. They were making out too heavily, and the smell of smoke and alcohol was thick in the air. The loud music made my head bang, but I pretended to enjoy it as I sashayed in. The bar was right by the entrance, and when I tried to walk past it, a uniformed man stopped me.

“You have to buy a drink before entering the club.”

I nodded before turning to the bar. I placed an order, opened my wallet, only to realise I had only my card in it. I had no cash, and I couldn't use the card. Dad would easily find me then.

“I forgot my card at home. Can you open a tab for me, please?”

“No ma'am,” the bartender replied, “we don't do that here, and you'll have to leave if you don't buy a drink.”

“Ohh, that sucks. I guess I'd have to leave then.”

I turned to leave at the same time I was crowded in all corners, and one of the bodies that had crowded me spoke to the bartender, “Put it on our tab, Alex. She's with us.”

It was Ian Vanderbilt. I panicked and instantly tried to move away, but when I turned the other way, his brothers, Damon and Zahir, were flanking me, oozing sins and testosterone. They saw me. Our eyes met. God!

“That won't be necessary,” I croaked in an attempt to disguise my voice, “I was just about leaving.”

“Come on, little Kitty, don't you like us?” That was Zahir, and the unfamiliarity in his voice made me look up at him. This time, I allowed my eyes to lock with his before moving to his brothers’. They stared back with clear interest and want in their eyes, but not familiarity.

They had no idea I was the one.

Wow. I exhaled in relief. I almost chuckled, even. They couldn't tell I was the one. Was my disguise so perfect that the brothers couldn't know that it was the little torn in their flesh?

“Why do you say to hanging out with us, little kitty? We have a private booth right on the last floor.” Damon said, eyes not leaving mine for once. I didn't want to say yes. I shouldn't say yes. I should leave now before they stare too much and realize it was me, the daughter of the enemy, but the rebellious part of me wanted to stay.

A couple of minutes with the Vanderbilt brothers while I was in a disguise. What could possibly go wrong?