Blood Money (1) | The Inheritance Games

XX. tell me why

"But you know you got a mean streak, makes me run for cover when you're around, here's to you and your temper"

Warning: This chapter and a lot of the following ones in this series will include sometimes graphic depictions of abuse and can be pretty harmful to those who have struggled or continue to struggle with this issue. I'd advise this fanfic maybe isn't for you if that's something you'd like to avoid. Remember, you're not alone and there are plenty of people who can help you, if you need someone to talk to I'm always here and there are also extremely helpful hotlines to those who need it.

Noah — Last night.

"Grams I think I put too much flour." I grimace at the bowl full of floor and just a little of the mixture underneath. 

"Noah! I said just a little!" Maja squeals with frustration, rushing to fix the mistake.

"Now we all know what the solution is, don't we." Grams grins, grabbing the sugar and shooing away Maja and I from the bowl. "We just add more of everything else and get extra cookies." She smiles cheekily.

"Which means.. more chocolate chips." She looks to the two of us and winks.

Maja reaches to the huge bag of chocolate chips kept in the pantry. Grams lets me pour them in, the clink of the chocolate echoing in the glass bowl along with Maja's laughter after Grams tosses a little pinch of flour on her.

Grams starts mixing it up, Maja and I sharing a smirking glance when she starts humming some old song from the 70's.

We put the cookies in the oven and get started on cleaning up. Or as Grams calls it, 'kids clean up whilst Grammy snacks on chocolate chips'.

That's when the kitchen door slams open. Our Father strolls in drunkenly, his breath reeking of liquor.

"Smells good. Finish up and we'll head home." Dad slurs, flopping onto one of the island chairs.

The sound of his voice sends a paralysing chill down my spine, any smile once present in this room disappear and are haunted by booze breath and slurring speech.

I see the way Maja tenses up, cowering back into herself. I have a similar yet quite opposite reaction, I immediately fix my posture before he can tell me to.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, drinking on a weekday in front of your children." Grams growls.

"Oh relax, Agnes. I'm celebrating.. and besides I don't work anyway." He shrugs with a smirk.

"What are you celebrating today?" Maja scoffs, I kick her in warning. If she starts something it's me who'll be penalised. 

"Being alive? Or having beautiful and intelligent children? But more-so being a day closer to my bitch of a Mother-in-law dying." He snorts, nudging Grams.

"Oh honey, I'm outliving you." She grins sarcastically.

"Alright, grab your shit, we're leaving." Dad tells us. "Excuse me my cookies aren't ready and my kiddies need to test and make sure they aren't poisoned." Grams interrupts. Dad grits his teeth but nevertheless gets his phone out and starts typing furious emails to his shareholders.

Dad is a prime example of nepotism. A talentless ass hole who got money passed down from his Father and all he had to do was sign off on deals and stuff. A job that would be passed on to me. Aren't I lucky?

So I continue scrubbing the dishes clean, the flour residue mixing with the water and making an awful chalk in my hands.

At home we have staff running around doing this kind of stuff for us. And despite Gram's wealth, she refuses to have help with everything. She has a few staff who'll make her dinner sometimes, or cleaners who'll clean up places in the mansion she can't get to at her age. But for the most part it's all her. After Gramps died she felt too lonely here to get rid of the staff, but she still insisted on doing stuff the old fashioned way. That's why Maja and I are here, we come here to keep her company every other day.