better than winning

05 | bet?

silence.

"Xander! Why don't you show Avery and Nayla to their wings?" Nash lets him stand up. "Come on" he walks towards the door "We'll stop for cookies on the way." "No cookies." Grayson says before we can head out. "Fine." Xander still cheery, "Scones then."

"The first scone is what I like to call the practice scone." Xander muffles, barely understandable, given his whole mouth is stuffed with scones. "It is not until the third — nay, fourth-scone that you develop any kind of scone-eating expertise." he continues, his tone saying he wrote an entire essay about it. "Scone-eating expertise," Ave repeats, no joy in her voice. "Your nature is skeptical," Xander comments. "That will serve you well in these halls, but if there is one universal truth in the human experience, it is that a finely honed scone-eating palate does not just develop overnight." "I agree, it took me two nights." I grin, practically inhaling the scones, I always had a sweet spot for pastries. "Why are we standing here talking about scones?" Avery sighs. I wonder what the hell Oren is doing in the corner, poor guy has to see us eating.

"Aren't you supposed to hate me?" Avery doesn't form it like a question more like a fact. "I do hate you. If you notice, I have kept the blueberry confections for myself and gave you the lemon-flavored scones. Such is the depth of my loathing for you personally and on principle."

Xander, real mature as always.

I smile widely, noticing he gave me a blueberry one. He throws me a wink before Avery says, "This isn't a joke." "Why would I hate you, Avery?" he ask with no emotion, but it doesn't sound cold, "You aren't the one who did this." Someone has to tell Grayson this. "Maybe you're blameless.", he continues. "Maybe you're the evil genius that Gray seems to think you are, but at the end of the day, even if you thought that you'd manipulated our grandfather into this, I guarantee that he'd be the one manipulating you." he contemplates. "Your grandfather was a piece of work," Avery, compliments? Well Xander takes it as a compliment, "I agree. In his honor, I eat this scone." he puts the fourth scone in his mouth, "Want me to show you to your rooms now?" "Yes, I desperately need a shower." I complain. "I can tell." Xander grins. "I hope you can tell, you need one too." I smile. Xander gasps, "I do not!" "What ever helps you sleep."

"So, where is my room?" I ask standing up. "It's probably easier to show you." Xander replies. He leads Avery and me through the hallways, I already knew and we go past a portrait, it was Tobias Hawthorne, Xander explains. Aver said she never met him, but I don't think I can say the same, he just looks too familiar. I stayed in Tobias' wing, he apparently requested so, and Avery stayed in the guest wing.

Damnn, this wing is huge; a bathroom, bedroom, a walk-in closet and his office. I search my luggage for some pajamas and go into the bathroom, strap my clothes off and take a needed shower.

I always shower hot. I liked extreme temperatures, either freezing cold or piping hot, everything in between didn't peak my interest as much. Thats what I loved about racing too, the car can reach extreme temperatures. It lighted me on fire, sometimes literally.

I put my clothes on and do my skincare, while listening to my shared playlist. I was about to go out, then I noticed the letter had fallen out of my pocket. I pick it up, only to notice something different. On the back appeared new words, the steam must have caused it.

Nayla,

Better the devil you know than the one you don't-or is it?

Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.

All that glitters is not gold.

Nothing is certain but death and taxes.

There but for the grace of God I go.

Don't judge.

—Tobias Tattersall Hawthorne

what? Was that the game he was talking about? Why hide it with invisible ink then? Why involve me in this shit?

My thoughts are interrupted by small sounds, they came from the bedroom. But there was nobody, the sounds became louder. Behind the shelf, I locate the sounds. What the-? "Bella? Pull the candle stick." a muffled voice said. I pull the candle stick and the shelf slides to the side. To reveal a Jameson, covered by dust. "Have you opened the letter?" he asks, stepping into the room and clapping his clothes clean. "Yes, it was a riddle." I reply, half true. I feel like I should keep the other part secret. "You got it too?" he pauses and thinks a moment, "How do you feel about a bet?"

I grin.

I loved bets, or anything where you can win. I was always competitive, the news would always call me cocky but I don't care, I mean did they win? No? Yeah, didn't think so. Obviously I never said that my PR manager would kill me.

"What kind of bet?" I ask interested. "Who ever solves the riddle first?" he suggests. I pause for a moment before saying yes, the letter said with, not against. Maybe this is not some game. "I thought you had that bet with Grayson." I change the topic. "Gosh, Gray still thinks Heiress is some manipulative mastermind. He won't be playing until he thinks straight." he groans, remembering the actions of his brother. "What about Ave? She seems like a good player." I suggest. "Haven't asked her yet." he simply shrugs. "You have a lot of luggage." he notices. "Yep, tomorrow the rest will arrive." I nod. "Alright, go back to your room, I need my sleep." I shoo him out and lie again, I would never sleep, if my trainer would let me. She always takes it hard on me, I would bet my car that I have a harder training than anybody on the grid.

I grab the letter out of my pocket again. Two things stick out: Never judge. ; Better the devil you know than the one you don't, is it?

Never judge a book by its cover.

Faust.

So either a Faust book is in another cover or another book is in the cover of Faust. Either way it'll be a pain in the ass with the amount of libraries this house has.

-
a/n
school is killing me again 😞🙏