Grayson Hawthorne X Ethan Myers

Capitolo 4

I ran out of the room, wanting to get away from everyone.

I ran outside and leaned against the walls of Hawthorne House and sat down."

"Ethan!" Louis came out right after me. "You okay?" He sat down next to me and put his arm around my shoulder.

"Also: Are you insane? When someone gives you money, you don't try to give it back!"

"Says the guy who never takes my tips." I pointed out.

"We're not talking tips here! We're talking billions."

"Just imagine this life. You would never have to worry about money again. You could buy everything you want and do whatever you want. You could buy that bike you were saving up for. Imagine the possibilities!"

Louis got up and stood over me. "Think about this okay? I'll wait for you inside." He said, looking concerned. He then walked inside.

The massive front door of the Hawthorne House slammed open and Nash Hawthorne stepped out. Even wearing a suit, he looked every inch the cowboy, ready to meet a rival at high noon.

"Relax, kid." Nash's Texan drawl was slow and smooth, like whiskey. "I don't want the money. Never have. Far as I'm concerned, this is the universe having a bit of fun with folks who probably deserve it."

He ambled towards his motorcycle, then put on his helmet, and moment later, he was gone.

I pulled out my phone. It's an iPhone 11, I got it after saving up and got it a few years back but now the cameras broken and the screen has a small crack on it but I manage. I checked my texts and saw my boyfriend, Alex, had texted me at least a million times.

I turned off my phone and stood up. "I have to get out of this place..." I said, I thought I was alone but heard a deep voice coming from behind me.

"I'm going with you."

I turned. John Oren stood next to the front door.  God damn ima have to put a bell on this guy.

"I don't need security," I told him. "I just need to get the hell outta here."

"You'll need security for the rest of your life."

"But look on the bright side..." He nodded to the car that had picked us up at the airport. "I can also drive."

"Lucky me," I replied, I walked past him to the car.

Once we both got in, I told him to take me to a motel. Instead, he drove us to the fanciest hotel I'd ever seen, and he must had taken the scenic route, because Alisa Ortega was waiting for us in the lobby.

"I've had a chance to read the will in full." Apparently, that was her version of hello. "I brought a Copy for you. I suggest we retire to you room and go over the details."

"My room?" I repeated. The doormen were wearing tuxedos. There were six chandeliers in the lobby. Nearby a woman was playing a five-foot-tall harp. "We can't afford rooms here."

Alisa gave me an almost pitying look. "Oh, honey," she said, then recovered her professionalism. "You own this hotel."

I...what? I was getting "who let the rabble in?" Looks from other patrons just standing in the lobby. I could not possibly own this hotel.