The Inheritance Games (The Inheritance Games #1)(13)

“You’re to live in Hawthorne House for one year, commencing no more than three days from now.” Alisa had made that point at least twice already, but I couldn’t get my brain to accept it.

“The only string attached to my inheriting billions of dollars is that I must move into a mansion.”

“Correct.”

“A mansion where a large number of the people who were expecting to inherit this money still live. And I can’t kick them out.”

“Barring extraordinary circumstances, also correct. If it’s any consolation, it is a very large house.”

“And if I refuse?” I asked. “Or if the Hawthorne family has me killed?”

“No one is going to have you killed,” Alisa said calmly.

“I know you grew up around these people and everything,” Libby told Alisa, trying to be diplomatic, “but they are totally, one hundred percent going to go all Lizzie Borden on my sister.”

“Really would prefer not to be ax-murdered,” I emphasized.

“Risk assessment: low,” Oren rumbled. “At least insofar as axes are concerned.”

It took me a second to figure out that he was joking. “This is serious!”

“Believe me,” he returned, “I know. But I also know the Hawthorne family. The boys would never harm a woman, and the women will come for you in the courtroom, no axes involved.”

“Besides,” Alisa added, “in the state of Texas, if an heir dies while a will is in probate, the inheritance doesn’t revert to the original estate—it becomes part of the heir’s estate.”

I have an estate? I thought dully. “And if I refuse to move in with them?” I asked again, a giant ball in my throat.

“She’s not going to refuse.” Libby shot laser eyes in my direction.

“If you fail to move into Hawthorne House in three days’ time,” Alisa told me, “your portion of the estate will be dispersed to charity.”

“Not to Tobias Hawthorne’s family?” I asked.

“No.” Alisa’s neutral mask slipped slightly. She’d known the Hawthornes for years. She might work for me now, but she couldn’t be happy about that.

Could she?

“Your father wrote the will, right?” I said, trying to wrap my head around the insane situation I was in.

“In consultation with the other partners at the firm,” Alisa confirmed.

“Did he tell you…” I tried to find a better way to phrase what I wanted to ask, then gave up. “Did he tell you why?”

Why had Tobias Hawthorne disinherited his family? Why leave everything to me?

“I don’t think my father knows why,” Alisa said. She peered at me, the neutral mask slipping once more. “Do you?”





CHAPTER 12


Mother-faxing elf,” Max breathed. “Goat-dram, mother-faxing elf.” She lowered her voice to a whisper and let out an actual expletive. It was past midnight for me, and two hours earlier for her. I half expected Mrs. Liu to sweep in and snatch the phone away, but nothing happened.

“How?” Max demanded. “Why?”

I looked down at the letter in my lap. Tobias Hawthorne had left me an explanation, but in the hours since the will was read, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to open the envelope. I was alone, sitting in the dark on the balcony of the penthouse suite of a hotel that I owned, wearing a plush, floor-length robe that probably cost more than my car—and I was frozen.

“Maybe,” Max said thoughtfully, “you were switched at birth.” Max watched a lot of television and had what could probably have been classified as a book addiction. “Maybe your mother saved his life, years ago. Maybe he owes his entire fortune to your great-great-grandfather. Maybe you were selected via an advanced computer algorithm that is poised to develop artificial intelligence any day!”

“Maxine.” I snorted. Somehow, that was enough to allow me to say the exact words I’d been trying not to think. “Maybe my father isn’t really my father.”

That was the most rational explanation, wasn’t it? Maybe Tobias Hawthorne hadn’t disinherited his family for a stranger. Maybe I was family.

I have a secret.… I pictured my mom in my mind. How many times had I heard her say those exact words?

“You okay?” Max asked on the other end of the line.

I looked down at the envelope, at my name in calligraphy on the front. I swallowed. “Tobias Hawthorne left me a letter.”

“And you haven’t opened it yet?” Max said. “Avery, for fox sakes—”

“Maxine!” Even over the phone, I could hear Max’s mom in the background.

“Fox, Mama. I said fox. As in ‘for the sake of foxes and their furry little tails…’” There was a brief pause and then: “Avery? I have to go.”

My stomach muscles tightened. “Talk soon?”

“Very soon,” Max promised. “And in the meantime: Open. The. Letter.”

She hung up. I hung up. I put my thumb underneath the lip of the envelope—but a knock at the door saved me from following through.

Back in the suite, I found Oren positioned at the door. “Who is it?” I asked him.

“Grayson Hawthorne,” Oren replied. I stared at the door, and Oren elaborated. “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…”