Chains of Forbidden Love

Lillian's POV

I am the perfect child.

The perfect daughter.

The one who never makes mistakes.

I am like a puzzle piece that fits perfectly because I always trim away parts of myself that they consider flaws.

I follow orders without questioning, for in the Hawthorne household, I am the epitome of perfection. But behind that flawless facade, a dirty secret lies.

***

Hawthorne Mansion is filled with people who share the same interests—money and power. Their conversations echo throughout the room, but I act as though I am hearing pleasant words. A smile is permanently etched on my face as I socialize with my father's guest, Gabriel Hawthorne, the newly-elected president who, after a lifetime in politics, has finally achieved his desires.

Beside him stands his best friend and vice president, Alexander Montgomery, who has seen me grow up and transform into a lady. Alexander understands me better than my own father. He knows of my obsession with the arts, a passion my father remains unaware of due to his unwavering focus on gaining power.

I have spent my formative years in Alexander's presence. He has always been by my side, and perhaps that is the reason why I have fallen for him. He comprehends me unlike my father or the others who surround me.

"You look lovely, Lilliana," Alexander comments, and his words cause a blush to creep onto my cheeks. A sweet smile graces my lips as I respond, "You look good too, Alexander. Congratulations on winning the election."

Alexander smiles back and nods his head. "Thank you," he says before being called to the stage along with my father to deliver their speeches.

I watch them proudly stand at the podium, thanking everyone who contributed to their success. As Alexander takes the spotlight, I can feel his gaze flicker towards me. My eyes remain fixated on him, following his every movement, and I realize that I have fallen for a man who could easily pass as my father. Yet, I push that fact aside and allow my heart to roam free. No one knows of my feelings, and I can steal glances without altering the fact that I am still Lillian Hawthorne—the perfect daughter.

When Alexander finishes his speech, my father steps up to the stage. I anticipate his gratitude, but what escapes his lips is not what I expect.

"There is an age-old saying, 'Behind every successful man, there stands a woman,'" he begins.

My smile widens as I hear those words, but it quickly fades as he continues.

"Winning this election would not have been possible without this woman. She has been my unwavering support, my source of strength, and my first advocate. Even when I doubted myself, she believed in me. So, thank you for standing by my side and believing in my ability to lead this nation, my love, Victoria Sullivan. This success is also for you."

My forehead creases as I listen to his words.

His secretary, Victoria, steps onto the stage with a wide smile on her face. How did I not notice this before? How dare she seduce my father when she is merely a secretary?

My anger reaches its limit, and it boils within me as I witness my father kneeling on the floor, holding a ring while gazing into Victoria's eyes. Tears well up in the corners of her eyes.

All attention is on them, while I stand in the crowd, invisible to everyone's eyes. I clench my fists tightly, watching their romantic moment.

"Victoria Sullivan, will you marry me?" my father asks. The room holds its breath, anticipating Victoria's answer. But as much as I pray silently for her to say no, it seems that luck is not on my side.

"Yes!" Victoria responds, tears streaming down her face.

My father stands up and embraces her tightly. The room erupts in joy, while I stand there as if attending a funeral.

"Mr. President, does this mean that Victoria Sullivan will be your first lady and not your daughter Lillian?" a man wearing a black tuxedo asks, presumably from the media.

My father searches the crowd for me, and when our eyes meet, he smiles. Throughout my life, I have perfected the art of faking a smile, and this moment is no exception.

I walk gracefully towards the stage, as if my blood isn't boiling inside me. I kiss Victoria on the cheek and offer her a smile, pretending to be pleased with her answer.

"Congratulations," I say, almost convincing myself that my words are genuine.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she replies, playing the role of a sweet stepmother.

I then face my father, offering my congratulations.

"Thank you, darling," he responds, kissing me on the forehead.

I take hold of my father's arm, leaning on him like a sweet little child, and face the media.

"Becoming a first lady is a tremendous responsibility, and I don't believe I am capable of bearing that title. I would much rather remain my father's princess; it's much simpler," I joke, lightening the mood, and successfully diverting attention from my true emotions.

Proudly, my father embraces me and then kisses the top of my head.

"You will always be Daddy's princess," he sweetly utters, and I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes at his words. He has never treated me as a princess; to him, I am merely one of his possessions that must remain pure and perfect.

"So, that means you are okay with Victoria Sullivan being the first lady?" the media inquires.

I look at Victoria, taking her hands in mine. I offer her a smile before facing the media.

"Victoria is intelligent and possesses a genuinely kind heart. I am confident that she will assist my father in making our country better," I state, looking into the camera. I turn my head towards Victoria once again, offering her a smile.

Victoria reciprocates with a genuine smile. She seems sweet and kind, but I can't bring myself to like her. I feel betrayed, but I continue to act as though everything is fine.

Smiling at the camera, I feel my lips growing numb.

After a while, my father claps his hands to capture everyone's attention.

"Everyone, I would like to introduce you to my family and my fiancée, Victoria Sullivan," he announces. He pauses and then wraps his arm around Victoria's waist. Victoria smiles, basking in my father's affectionate gesture, and I do my best to suppress the urge to roll my eyes.

My father turns to me, smiling, and places his hand on my waist before facing the camera.

"My lovely daughter, Lillian Hawthorne," he declares. I expect his words to end there, but it seems that this night will be full of surprises.

"And my son, Attorney Marcus Sullivan," he proudly proclaims. With that, a man dressed in a black formal suit walks towards the stage.

All eyes are on him as he confidently makes his way to us, as if he owns the night.

He stands beside me, and I can't help but stare at him.

He is tall, especially when standing next to me. With his great physique, he could pass as a model. To say he is attractive would be an understatement.

His perfectly brushed hair adds to the formality of his look, and the glasses he wears give him an air of intelligence. The furrowing of his eyebrows while scanning the crowd makes him look incredibly appealing.

I gasp when he turns his head towards me, quickly looking away and taking a deep breath to calm myself.

"Staring is rude, Ms. Hawthorne," he remarks.

I glance at him once again and flash a sweet smile.

"I wasn't staring, Attorney Sullivan," I retort.

He looks at me intently, amusement glinting in his eyes. After a moment, a smirk forms on his lips.

"I'll pretend I didn't see you then," he teases.

"Shall we look at the camera for a family picture, Mr. President?" a reporter politely asks. I turn my head towards the front and flash my sweetest smile. However, my smile quickly fades when I feel Marcus's hand resting on my waist and his body leaning closer to mine.

"Smile, Lillian," he whispers, his hot breath on my neck sending shivers down my spine.

My heart pounds loudly in my chest, and I find myself losing focus.

What is happening to me?