𝐏𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄𝐒 🝮 𝒳𝒶𝓃𝒹ℯ𝓇 ℋ𝒶𝓌𝓉𝒽ℴ𝓇𝓃ℯ

SEVEN

[y/n]
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"Welcome home, Avery." Alisa stepped into the foyer, spinning to face my sister. It felt strange to here those words- this place, this gigantic mansion, was Avery's.

"Down that corridor," Alisa said, "we have the theater, the music room, conservatory, solarium..." What the frick was a solarium? "You've seen the Great Room, of course," Alisa continued. "The formal dining is farther down, then the kitchen, the chef's kitchen..."

"There's a chef?" Avery blurted out.

I rolled my eyes. "No, there's just a chef's kitchen with no chef," I replied sarcastically, earning a look from Libby.

"There are sushi, Italian, Taiwanese, vegetarian, and pastry chefs on retainer." The voice that said the words was male. I turned to see the older couple- the Laughlins- from the will's reading standing by the entry to the Great Room. "But my wife handles the cooking day-to-day," Mr. Laughlin continued softly.

"Mr. Hawthorne was a very private man," Mrs. Laughlin said, eyeing Avery. "He made do with my cooking most days because he didn't like having any more outsiders poking around the house more than necessary."

Made sense. The old man always seemed suspicious of, well, everyone. Once, he bought an entire freaking ice cream shop because he didn't like some teenager working there.

"There are dozens of staff on retainer," Alisa explained. "They all recieve a full-time wage but work on call."

"If something needs doing, there's someone to do it," Mr. Laughlin said plainly, "and I see that it's done in the most discreet fashion possible. More often than not, you won't even know they're here."

"But I will," Oren stated. "Movement on and off the estate is strictly tracked, and no one makes it past the gates without a deep background check. Construction crews, the housekeeping and gardening staff, every masseuse, chef, stylist, or sommelier- they are all cleared through my team."

The list was dizzying. How to tell someone you're rich without saying you're rich.

"The gym facilities are down this hall," Alisa said, going full tour guide mode. "There are full-sized basketball and racquetball courts, a rock climbing wall, bowling alley-"

"A bowling alley?" Avery repeated.

"Only four lanes," Alisa assured her, as if that made it perfectly reasonable.

The front door opened behind us, and there Nash was.

"Motorcycle cowboy," I heard Libby whisper.

Alisa stiffened. "If everything's in order here, I should check in with the firm." She reached into her suit pocket and handed Avery a brand new titanium iPhone 15. Damn. "I programmed in my number, Mr. Laughlin's, and Oren's. If you need anything, call."

"You know, I could use a new-" I started, shutting up when I recieved a sharp glare from Avery.

Alisa left without saying a single word to Nash, and he just watched her go.

"You be careful with that one," Mrs. Laughlin advised the eldest Hawthorne brother, once the door had shut. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

Oh. Alisa and Nash. That made sense.

"Don't go convincing yourself Lee-Lee is consortin' with the enemy," Nash told Mrs. Laughlin. "Avery isn't anyone's enemy. There are no enemies here. This is what he wanted."

He. Mr. Hawthorne. Even in death, he was changing the game.

"None of this is Avery's fault," Libby said. "She's just a kid."

Nash swung his attention towards her, peering through her hair to the black eye underneath. "What happened here?" he murmured.

"I'm fine," Libby said, sticking her chin out.

"I can see that," Nash replied softly. "But if you decide you'd like to give me a name? I'd take it."

It was clear that his words had an effect on Libby. She wasn't used to having people besides Avery and I in her corner.

"Libby," Oren said, getting her attention. "If you've got a moment, I'd like to introduce you to Hector, who will be running you and [y/n]'s security detail. Avery, I can personally guarantee that Nash will not ax-murder you or allow you to be ax-murdered by anyone else while I'm gone."

Nash snorted. And as Libby followed Oren into the bowels of the house, I became aptly conscious of the way the eldest Hawthorne grandson watched her go.

"Leave her alone," Avery told Nash.

"Cock-blocker," I muttered.

"You're protective," Nash commented, "and you seem like you fight dirty, and if there's one thing I respect, it's those particular traits in combination."

There was a crash, then a thud in the distance.

"That," Nash said meditatively, "would be the reason I came back and am not living a pleasantly nomadic existence as we speak."

Another loud thud.

Nash rolled his eyes. "This should be fun." He began striding toward a nearby hall, looking back over his shoulder. "You two might as well tag along. You know what they say about baptisms and fire."

What the hell do they say about baptisms and fire?

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oh my god guys I'm so sorry I haven't updated!! 😭🙏

plz forgive me, I promise I'll post as much as possible in the future. My family's getting ready to move across the friggin country so it's been a little hectic.

Love you guys!!! <33