Chapter Four

The plane was delayed for forty minutes, or so she had been told, giving Hazel ten minutes to lug everything downstairs and twenty to get to the airport before she missed her flight. She moved at a snail pace, hoping to grant her own wish. Freeing her bag of paintings from a door that had always been troublesome seemed exceptionally easier than ever. The large bag just floated out as the mover walked. She glared at it, and followed him out, watching like a hawk as he expertly packed away the last of her belongings in the back of the van.

Hazel had known before that she spent most of her last five years focusing on painting and buying canvas after canvas, but it was now that she was moving that she realized just how empty her life was. Most of the trips from her flat to the van was to chart down canvases and paint supplies and little this and that's that she used during her process. And they all went through the traitorous door as if it was not there at all. As a matter of fact, if she had not been relaying on it to cause problems she would have not remembered that the door was there at all.

Once everything was packed away, and she had arranged for the building manager to let in the movers to get her sparse furnishing to storage, some five minutes later, Hazel dashed down the flight of stairs and came out onto her street.

The kids she had never smiled at were crowded around the moving van she had rented. They were touching and chattering as all kids would, whilst the teenage girls were looking at her as if they hadn't known she was even living there. Most of them were from her building, a fact she was not ignorant to. Their names, ages and schools were, however, details she did not know.

"Where you moving to?" the tallest of the group asked.

Hazel noted the expanse of freckles on the girl's face and replied nicely, "I'm moving back home; New Jersey."

The group nodded and sent smiles her way, "You getting married?" a shorter one asked.

A bit startled by the acuteness of the girl's question, Hazel stuttered over her words, "Yes, yes I believe I am."

The girls who had been chewing gum mouths fell open at her revaluation, causing the sticky little balls to fall to the hazy concrete. The one who had asked squealed out an excited "I told you so!" at the others and demanded they hand over the money they had bet.

"Cool!" freckles stated, gladly, giving the short girl two dollars.

Hazel chuckled, for the first time in the last week since Lionel's surprise visit; a laugh that was not bitter or dark. She got into the van after saying goodbye and settled in for the drive to the airport.

What Hazel wasn't expecting when she got to the airport was being told that her flight had been, ungraded courtesy of her soon to be in-laws. The attendant who delivered the news discovered what could easily be considered the brightest and widest smile Hazel had ever received.

"Ms. George, I hope you have a nice day despite the delays. Ah, I'll get someone to handle that bag for you and escort you to the lounge. Come this way, please."

After she was bullied into letting go of her carry on, Hazel allowed herself to be led – or dragged – down to the VIP lounge and was practically pushed into a sofa.

"Your plane will be ready in a few minutes, Ms. George." The new smiling maniac quipped, adding another megawatt to her already blinding smile.

Hazel sighed to herself, already frustrated with the Steels and she had not even met them yet.

"Can I get you anything, ma'am? A cool drink, perhaps?" The attendant had strutted away to order Hazel a 'refreshing drink' before she could get the words "Surprise me." out of her mouth. Now feeling generally frustrated, Hazel eyed her immobile arm in contempt as her skin started to itch underneath the cast, "Just great."

After what felt like an eternity of siting in the plush lounge, Hazel was starting to tire. She had half a mind to make a run for it before it was too late. She was beginning to second guess her decision. Not that she had stopped questioning her sanity, but the angst was starting to really crawling under her skin. Once the flight was finally called, and she stepped out on the tarmac, Hazel was a bundle of nerves. Hazel narrowed her eyes at the shiny bird and continued uncertainly.

"You will not be intimidated, trampled on or ignored." She muttered to herself as she settled into her first class seat. "And you most definitely will not get caught up in the trappings of money."

*forced*

When Lionel had said they were going to lose the house, he had not been exaggerating. And luckily for him, Hazel had called with her agreement the very day the bank had sent over the eviction notice. It had been little less than a blessing to hear her voice; a voice he had quite forgotten over the years.

"I'll do it. When do I go there?" Her short and cryptic call had made him the happiest he had been in months.

"You have made the right decision, child! This weekend, come home this weekend. You are–."

Hazel hung up the phone before he had gotten the chance to warn her about minding her manners with the Steel's.

And because Hazel had agreed to the venture, Mr. Johnathan Steel had already started pouring out his generosity to the George family.

"Your daughter is breathtaking." the man said, rubbing his chin.

"Yes, however, her hair isn't brown. It is red." Lionel put in.

After all, who doesn't like a ginger?

"Ah, yes. Her mother's hair." the man before him had an atmosphere of ease and kindness around him that Lionel was aware of as, in some ways, an act.

"Yes."

Johnathan nodded soberly, smiling again. He looked back at her picture. As he thought back to the picture he had seen of Hazel, he felt the pull that told him that he had made a killer deal. He felt comforted by the thought of Hazel George marrying his son. It was a gut feeling, and he never ignored his gut. "Van will love her. I already do."

"How is Van with all of this?" Lionel inquired. He could not see the younger man being enthused about being saddled with someone one as mediocre as Hazel.

Johnathan smiled pleasantly, "Not too enthused as you can imagine but he'll be fine."

Lionel smiled. Now all, he thought to himself, Hazel had to do was show up and behave like the cultured girl he tried to raise her to be.

"How did you convince him?" Lionel pressed. "You never did tell me."

"Ah...something typical, I supposed. His biggest fear. I threatened to rewrite my will and take back the shares I would be leaving him."

"Thus he'd lose the controlling shares in the company." Lionel grunted in approval and understanding. It was of his view that a man should do whatever it took to protect his business.

*forced*

In his childhood bedroom, Van Steel, a tall and lean-ly muscled figure, stood by the full length windows brooding about why he was in the predicament that threatened his rightful claim to the company he worked so hard for.

Had he been acting in some atrocious way that needed mending? No.

Was he old and in need of an 'heir'? No.

Did the board put on the pressure about him being so young and unattached? No.

So for the worth of his degree, he could not figure out why his father was bounding him to a tradition as outlandish as an arranged marriage.

His issue did not lie in objections about his prospective bride, but with the principle. Arranged marriage aside, Hazel George was a stunning woman. Or at least she was a stunning girl, if he were to go by the outdated pictures of her that he found on Google. All her pictures dated back to five years ago and regardless of how hard he searched he could not find any recent ones; as if she had fallen off the face of the earth. Regardless, he was sure she had matured into a breathtaking enchantress.

But he was not to be enchanted. Hazel was portrayed as a debutante, which meant all the trappings of a spoiled rich girl who cared for nothing more than fame and money; both of which he was sure she couldn't get while her father's company hit rock bottom. Thus Van thought of her as the gold-digger who was going to ruin his life. She was just suddenly in the picture, a spoiled brat who wanted to dig her claws into him and take everything he was not willing to offer. And what was worst was that he was being blackmailed with the very thing he coveted and worked for most.

He stepped away from the windows, trying to contain the wrath he felt. He wasn't going to accept such a life without putting up a fight. If she wanted this so badly, he'd have to push her to hating being near him. His temper boiled at the thought of the little princess getting clingy and pesky.

Van definitely did not want that; no matter how pretty she was.

Then there was the issue of his father demanding grandchildren to be borne of the facade of a marriage. And like every trophy wife, Hazel would want children too.

Not. Happening, Van thought.

"Ah, mest'r Steel? Your phater requests n' audience with you."

Van looked at the Russian maid who had worked with his father for years and desperately tried not to take out his anger on the poor woman.

"I'll be down in a minute, Ms. Inga."

It was now or never.

*****FORCED*****

I know I promised this chapter daysss ago but I was away from my laptop (and functioning without my glasses) so I could't update.

I feel like there is so much more to be said in this chapter but I'm not exactly sure what.

Again sorry for the late update. Thanks so much for reading! Please vote, share and comment!!

PS: brace for the second update ^_^

Love,