Riches |The inheritance games|

Chapter 5

Avery has been on a call with Max for ages regardless of the fact it's midnight and for Max its only two hours earlier. "Talk soon?" I hear Avery ask. I listen to music through my earbuds whilst lying on the couch when I hear some knocks on the door. I turn towards the door which Oren stands at, Avery exits her room, "Who is it?" Ave asks him.

"Grayson Hawthorne," Oren replies. I unwillingly clench my jaw, as Oren elaborates. "If my men considered him a threat, he never would have made it to our floor. I trust Grayson. But if you don't want to see him..." he trails off.

"No," Avery says. I turn to face her confused as to what she is doing. "Open the door," she tells Oren. He does, and then he steps back. I plug in my earphone but they don't work great giving me the perfect way to eavesdrop. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" Grayson isn't the heir anymore, but you wouldn't know it from his tone.

"You shouldn't be here," she tells him, I skip the song playing causing him to look at me and notice my presence. I pretend not to notice him. "I've spent the past hour telling myself much the same thing, and yet, here I am." He says. 

"Grayson—"  my sister says before being cut off.

"I don't know how you did this." his voice is dangerous, yet soft. "I don't know what hold you had over my grandfather, or what kind of con you're running here."

"I'm not—"

"I'm talking right now, Ms. Grambs." He places his hand flat on the door. "I haven't a clue how you pulled this off, but I will find out. I see you now. I know what you are and what you're capable of, and there is nothing I wouldn't do to protect my family. Whatever game you're playing here, no matter how long this con—I will find the truth, and God help you when I do."

Oren steps in before I feel as though I have to. It appears this wasn't necessary when Avery closes the door on Grayson Hawthorne. 

Then all she does is reenter her bedroom, Of course I follow her to make sure she is ok when I see the envelop clutched in her hands. I feel myself tense as I walk forward and sit on the corner of the bed, next to her. I don't rush her to open it, I simply allow her to open when she is ready and when she does I read only four words and initials. 

Dearest Avery,

I'm sorry.

—T. T. H.

We both look up and lock eyes, neither of us say anything. We just thought. I thought until the last moment before I fell into a deep slumber later that night.

Sorry for what? The question still rings in my mind the next morning. Avery is still in bed which is really unusual, I sit on the couch yet again listening to music. Oren and Alisa speak softly in the kitchen but it seemed private so i blared my music into my earbuds.

I jump slightly when Avery walks in and now she is here I take out my earbuds as the private chat appears to have ended. "Avery." Oren notices. "There are some security protocols I'd like to go over with you." 

"Perhaps you should start with why not opening doors to Grayson Hawthorne after midnight?" I say sarcastically, earning glares from all three.

"You're a target now," Alisa ignores me.

"A target for what?" Avery asks.

"Paparazzi, of course. The firm is keeping a lid on the story for the time being, but that won't last, and there are other concerns."

"Kidnapping." Oren doesn't put any particular emphasis on that word. "Stalking. People will make threats—they always do. You're young, and you're female, and that will make it worse. With your sister's permission, I'll arrange a detail for her as well, as soon as she gets back."

"Why of course, you have my blessing" I joke as I know they mean Libs. "With all seriousness, what about Paris?" Avery asks in response to my joke. "Actually we don't feel it necessary to enforce security for her" Oren informs, "Kidnapping. Stalking. Threats. And I'm exempt?" I laugh jokingly. "We don't feel it to be necessary" Alisa justifies. 

"Where is Libby?" Avery asks, clearly now just noticing her disappearance.

"On a plane," Alisa answers. "Specifically, your plane."

"I have a plane?" Avery asks

"You have several," Alisa tells us. "And a helicopter, I believe, but that's neither here nor there. Your sister is en route to retrieve your things, as well as her own and your sister's. Given the deadline for your move into Hawthorne House—and the stakes—we thought it best that you remain here. And when we asked Paris if she wanted to join your sister, she just said 'Can't be bothered'.. Ideally, we'll have you moved in no later than tonight."

"The second this news gets out," Oren says seriously, "you will be on the cover of every newspaper. You'll be the leading story on every newscast, the number one trending topic on all social media. To some people, you'll be Cinderella. To others, Marie Antoinette."

I don't even pretend to know who that is. I got the message though. Some people will want to be her others will hate her to every depth of their souls.

"It's best you sit tight," Oren says evenly. "Your sister should be back tonight."

For the rest of the morning, Alisa and Avery play what I had mentally termed The Uprooting Avery's Life In An Instant game. She quit her job. I quit both of mine. Alisa took care of withdrawing us from school.

Unfortunately, I also had to quit cheer squad and dance squad as well as drama club which crushed me almost to the point where I couldn't do it. I also had to quit the dance class that I had been going to since I was three which kind of gave me a sick sort of feeling in the bottom of my stomach. The real reason I never joined Libby on the trip home was because I couldn't face saying goodbye. Once I made the call to Coach and Ms Synthia (My dance teacher) I took a trip to the restroom and let a tear fall. I'm so fucking annoying, I actually annoy myself with how upset I am about something so stupid. When I left the bathroom I found Avery still talking to Alisa.

"What about my car?" Avery asks. "Oren will be driving you for the foreseeable future, but we can have your vehicle shipped, if you would like," Alisa offers. "Or you can pick out a new car for personal use." She doesn't even act as though it means anything. "Do you prefer sedans or SUVs?" she queries, holding her phone in a way that suggested shes fully capable of ordering a car with a mere click of a button. "Any color preference?"

"You're going to have to excuse me for a second," she tells her. Then she exits and I stand awkwardly for a little before I decide to roam the hotel, allegedly the news isn't out yet so I will be okay. 

I find myself outside the hotel searching for air. I'm so dramatic its unbelievable. So what, I quit a dance team I've been attending for 13 years with my best friend who I will rarely see, so what if Im not a popular cheerleader who dates the hottest guy on the football team. For now, I'm just Avery's sister, which is actually ok, imagine how she must feel right now, probably a lot worse than whinny old me. I still date the hottest guy on the football team so its still the same I guess.

Later that night we collect Libby from the private jet. A whimper escapes my lips quietly when I see the appearance of my sister. Every thought halts in my mind when my eyes trace her face. Her right eye is bruised and swollen almost shut. "Libby" Avery says at the same time as I squeak "Libs"

"If you say 'I told you so,' I will make butterscotch cupcakes and guilt you into eating them every day."

"Is there a problem I should know about?" Alisa asks Libby, her voice deceptively calm as she eyes the bruise.

"Avery hates butterscotch," Libby says, like thats the problem.

"Alisa," Ave grits out, "does your law firm have a hit man on retainer?"

"No." Alisa keeps her tone strictly professional. "But I'm very resourceful. I could make some inquiries."

"I legitimately cannot tell if you are joking," Libby says, and then she turns to us. "I don't want to talk about it. And I'm fine."

"But—" I speak more clearly this time.

"I'm fine."

I managed to keep my mouth shut, and all of us manage to make it back to the hotel. The plan is to finish up a few final arrangements and leave immediately for Hawthorne House.

"We have a problem." Oren doesn't sound overly bothered, but Alisa immediately puts down her phone. Oren nods to our suite's balcony. Alisa steps outside, looked down, and swore.

I pushed past Oren and went out on the balcony to see what was going on. Down below, outside the hotel's entrance, hotel security guards struggle with what appeared to be a mob. It wasn't until a flash went off that I realize what that mob is. Avery pushes through and looks down as well.

Paparazzi.

And just like that, every camera points up at the balcony. At Avery.