A Billion Dollar Bequest to A Stranger - An Inheritance Games Fanfic

Chapter 4 - You Know You Hurt Me

Between my suddenly arranged marriage with my long term hated enemy; Grayson Davenport Hawthorne, and being bequeathed billions of dollars from Tobias Hawthorne, I really wanted to run down to the old man's grave, dig him up from death and resurrect him with any type of magic or any shit I could get to force him to care to explain the shithole that he just pushed me into.
"There must be some mistake," I shouted as I stood up, Grayson echoed me but he looked straight at Avery.
"He's right, Grayson's right," she whispered, only a metre from me.
"I assure you, there is no mistake," Mr Ortega boomed before a full on argument would happen.
Skye and Grayson glared at Avery, their stares almost melting the girl to a puddle. I met Grayson's icy glare for one second but he turned away before either one of us could acknowledge it.
"And I assure you the rest of Tobias Hawthorne's last will and testament is utterly unbreakable. Since the majority of the remaining details concern only Avery and Malacey, we'll cease the dramatics," the lawyer almost shouted. "But let me make one thing very clear."
My blood ran cold.
Utterly unbreakable.
Bull. Shit.
"Per terms of the will, any heir who challenges Avery and Malacey's inheritance will forfeit their share of the estate entirely."
Grayson's stare met mine and I knew he was thinking the same thing as me.
"What about Malacey and Grayson's arranged marriage?" Kirk shouted in a sudden outburst from the couch next to me. "What happens if my brother and I challenge it? We're not part of the will."
"Mr Prairie, Mr Hawthorne has told us to inform you to read your letter once the reading is done so that there is no hassle," Mr Ortega answered my brother's question.
"But what about me?" I stated, furious and confused. "Don't I get a say? Or at least my guardian!"
"And don't forget about me," Grayson grumbled from the other side of the room but I silenced him with an angry glare.
"This can't happen, you know that," I hissed before storming outside. My head had started to swirl.
"Malacey," a voice yelled after me, but I was out of the front door before you could say 'marriage.'

I slumped down on the front steps of Hawthorne House with my head in my hands.
Tobias Hawthorne, what are you doing with my life.
Suddenly, a thought occured to me, stopping the dizziness in my head.
The letter.
The reading had been concluded now and everyone was just arguing.
I turned back to make sure that there was nobody to read my letter before I could. After assuring my loneliness, I pulled the wax sealed letter that was given to me out of my blazer pocket.

To my dear Malacey,

Laced with poison is the heart of one,
Threaded with a cure is the heart of another.
Love is a sweet thing, my grandson,
Don't you let her go for another.
But if you do, chose which heart is yours.
If you both chose the same, a life may die.
If you chose differently, you won't have to say goodbye.

I owe you my world
As you owe me yours,
But I'm sorry if yours has swirled
Because of my heirs,
But lace it with your beauty,
Lace it with your poison,
For now this is your duty.
For where you'll find happiness is frozen.

- Tobias Tattersall Hawthorne

What the hell was this supposed to mean?
Of course, Tobias Hawthorne giving out poems and riddles as explanations and answers. What a classic asshole.
From this letter alone, I had no clues whatsoever.
"Ugh, why does he have to be so difficult?" I groaned.

Suddenly, Avery and Libby ran out of the House and to where I was. The two stopped a few metres away from me and gave me a few wary but concerned looks before talking to each other.
"I don't want the money. Never have. Far as I'm concerned, this id the universe having a bit of fun with folks who probably deserved it."
My head turned to the Southern drawl of Nash Hawthorne. He gazed over Avery and Libby, stopping on the blue haired girl for just a bit longer.
Nash mumbled a few words to the older Grambs girl before turning to look at me.
"You alright there, Belladonna?" he asked me, his Texan accent sown into his words as he sat down next to me, addressing me in that tradition that I invented; using our middle names as our nicknames.
"You think, Westbrook?" I accidentally snapped at the eldest Hawthorne and I softened my glare on him after realising my outburst of anger. "Sorry."
"I dont know if noticed already, darlin', but you're crying," he said softly as he placed his thumb on my cheek to wipe the wetness on my cheeks that I didn't notice. "You sure you're alright, Lace?"
I stared at Nash for a bit. If I was a Hawthorne, Nash would have been my favourite big brother.
I laid my head on Nash's shoulder as tears rolled down my cheeks.
"No," I sobbed.

Only now did I realise how much this was hurting me. How much seeing Grayson had hurt me; how much the Hawthornes had hurt me.

3 years ago

"Grayson!" I yelled, shoving open the door to Hawthorne House, not caring how much noise or damage that I had done.
"Miss Prairie!" came the old voice of Tobias Hawthorne.
"Mr Hawthorne, I'm sorry but I have no time to speak to you," I grumbled to the old man as he tried to stop me from going up the stairs to Grayson's quarters.
"Grayson Davenport Hawthorne, come out from where you are right now," I yelled, tears flowing out of my eyes.
"Lacey!" Jameson's voice came from down the hallway behind me. "Come back here!"
Jameson tried to catch me but my rage fuelled me to walk faster to find Grayson.
"Belladonna," he tried to plead. "Just slow down and talk to me."
"Jamie, if you know where you brother is, I will stop, but if you don't or refuse to tell me," I answered curtly before turning the corner to Grayson's room.
"Malacey," came the order-like voices of Skye Hawthorne and Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris. "Stop."
I wheeled around to face the two women with a cold glare to which the two cowered.
"Please stop," the small voice of Xander pleaded as he appeared next to Jameson.
"Where is Grayson?" I demanded, angry with their attempts to stop me.
"He isn't here," Tobias Hawthorne announced.
"Then where is he?" I shouted, tears flowing even faster now.
Silence overcame the Hawthornes as they looked around at each other willing someone to speak.
"We don't know," somebody mumbled.
"What do you mean you don't know?" I yelled, even more furious now. They obviously knew where Grayson was but they refused to tell me.
"Malacey, I think its time you left," Tobias said softly as he stepped towards me, offering me a hand.
"No," I stated, shaking my head as tears blurred my vision. "I need to find that motherfucker."
"Miss Prairie," Skye interjected at my swearing.
"Fine," I heavily huffed, turning back around and walking fast towards the window of the third floor.
"Miss Prairie," Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris tried to say as she saw me walk towards the window.
"Malacey!" Jameson shouted as I approached the largely open window.
Before I knew it, I was crouched on the windowsill, looking back at the Hawthornes with tears blurring my vision.
"Goodbye," was the last word I said to the Hawthornes before jumping from the windowsill.

"Malacey," Nash's soft voice came as I was pulled out of my daydream. "Don't go back there."
Nash Westbrook Hawthorne was a mind reader and a brother of mine in my heart.
He never heart me and never desired to hurt anyone.
If only I was arranged to marry him.

"Miss Prairie," came the cold voice of Grayson as I came to realise what time it was. "It's time for you to go home."
I stood up and straightened, wiping tears from my face.
"Kirk, Carson," I called into the House.
"They have left," Grayson said curtly. "I'll have to take you home."
I bristled and stiffened.
"No," I said and realised that Nash had chorused with me.
"I'll take her home," Nash announced to his brother.
Grayson gave a scrutinising stare to his brother before narrowing his eyes at me.
"As if I care," he mumbled. "As long as she gets home safely, then our money won't go to waste."
"Shut the fuck up," I hissed at him, causing him to flinch at my words. "You fucking money-drunk, rich bitch."
"Malacey, let's go," Nash said, tugging on my arm.
"Goodbye, Lacey-Lacey," called a smirking drunk with the name of Jameson Winchester Hawthorne.
"Fuck off Jamie-mie," I yelled back at the boy, raising my middle finger to him.
"It was nice to see you again, Lace!" he yelled before stumbling back inside the House.
"Can't say the same to you, you little shit!" I yelled, drunk on tears.
Nash's motorbike ripped down the front yard and off to the Prairie Residence.

What a fucking ride this bloody day was.