fate's wager ; an inheritance games story

𝟎𝟎𝟏 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝

𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘦t

𝘐 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸

𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘄, 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗶𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗺𝘀

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲

Avery sat on the edge of the marble fireplace in her giant room, absently tracing the edge of a crimson puzzle piece with her finger as the quiet hum of the mansion enveloped her. The house had been unusually still lately-no puzzles, no games, no witty banter exchanged over breakfast. Libby and Nash were in Houston. Xander was with Max in Indiana for a convention.

And no Jameson. It was as if the very air around her had thickened with a kind of unspoken distance. She couldn't pinpoint when it started, but the moments that once felt charged with unspoken words between them-his teasing smiles, the electric way he looked at her like she was both a mystery and an obsession-had all but vanished. The space where his presence should have been now felt hollow.

It started with small things-Jameson taking trips without mentioning them to her first, then coming back with half-hearted explanations that never quite added up. At first, she thought it was nothing. He was always the mysterious one, after all, the number-one player of I Have A Secret. But as the weeks passed, the absences grew longer. He would return, looking distant, not bothering to envelope her in his arms and kiss her sick while whispering sweet nothings like he used to. Avery tried to brush it off, telling herself it was just his nature, his need for something new, but each time he left, the pit in her stomach deepened. He hadn't even asked her to come along. No whispered invitation, no challenge to solve a puzzle together-just silence, as if his world no longer needed her in it.

And then came the text.

"𝙞 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙬𝙚'𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨, 𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨. 𝙡𝙚𝙩'𝙨 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜."

It was sent earlier that day, right after Avery had her breakfast. She couldn't figure out was worst: The fact that he hadn't even bothered to call her and explain it, or the fact that he had the nerve to call her "Heiress" and then proceed to end their engagement. She'd called him sixteen times, left fourteen voicemails, and sent several frantic texts. None of them received a response. He was in godforsaken Los Angeles, doing whatever he did when he disappeared for days at a time. He could've at least replied to her texts.

Avery closed her eyes for a moment, and suddenly she was back in Cairo, standing in the shadow of the ancient pyramids as the golden light of dusk painted the sky in rich oranges and purples. The memory rushed back like it had happened only yesterday, sharp and vivid. The air was warm, dry, full of the scent of spices and dust, but nothing felt as heavy as the moment Jameson had led her away from the crowds and into the quiet of the city's side streets.

They had been exploring all day-the bustling bazaars, the crowded alleyways, the winding paths of the old city-and as night began to fall, Jameson had become quieter, more intense. He had always been unpredictable, but this felt different. There was an edge to him, something unspoken that she hadn't quite understood. His emerald eyes shined in a way that made her knees go weak.

Finally, he took her hand, his fingers tight around hers as he guided her through a narrow street lit by flickering lanterns. The sounds of the city faded, the hum of life muted, until all she could hear was her own breath. They arrived at a secluded rooftop garden, tucked away from the chaos below, the distant hum of the city now a soft whisper. A small table was set up with candles, casting shadows on the stone around them. In the background, the outline of the pyramids loomed, timeless and silent, watching over them.

Jameson had turned to her, his usual cocky grin replaced by something softer, almost vulnerable. He seemed unsure, but there was an undeniable determination in his eyes. "Heiress," he'd said, his voice low, as if he were trying to steady himself, "I've been all over the world, but nothing compares to this. To you. You've made me want to be more than just... someone chasing after the next puzzle."

Avery had barely had time to process the seriousness in his voice before he dropped to one knee, the sound of the world falling away, leaving only the two of them. The city was alive beneath them, but in that moment, it was just Jameson and the desert, the stars overhead, and the heat of the night curling around them like a promise.

"Avery, will you marry me?"

The words hung in the air, wrapped in the sound of her heartbeat, impossibly fast. She hadn't even hesitated. "Yes," she whispered, her voice shaking with something that felt like joy and relief all at once. Yes without question, without doubt. The city of Cairo, with all its ancient history, seemed to hold its breath for them. And when she said it-when she saw the way his eyes lit up, the grin spreading across his face-she knew that this was it. This was their story.

But now, sitting in the quiet of the mansion with the sting of his text still fresh in her mind, that moment felt distant, almost surreal. The memory of Cairo-the warm air, the golden light, the way he'd looked at her like she was everything-seemed like a life she no longer recognized. She wondered if, deep down, Jameson had known even then. Had he already been uncertain? Had he already started pulling away, inch by inch, long before the trips, the silence, the space between them had grown too wide to ignore? She didn't know. And that uncertainty, the weight of it, pressed down on her, making the hope she had once felt feel like something far away.

Before she could logically think through anything, Avery grabbed her phone. She blocked Jameson, her heart aching at the sign of his contact name. "𝗠𝘆 𝗝𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀𝗼𝗻♥"

Then, she clicked on Alisa Ortega's contact and called her. Alisa picked up immediately.

"Avery?" Alisa prompted.

"I need a plane ticket for New York City."

𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧

Grayson Davenport Hawthorne stood at the window of his bedroom in his New York City penthouse, watching the city's lights flicker to life as dusk settled over the skyline. The last guests from the small dinner he had hosted had just left, and Grayson was ready for some rest. His Siamese cat-who Xander had lovingly named Tuxedo-wrapped around Grayson's legs. As Grayson began to sit down in his armchair to read, the doorbell rang.

Grayson groaned silently. He grabbed Tuxedo and made his way to the entrance. He opened the door and his eyes widened.

"Um. Hi." His younger brother's fiancée stood (who he'd spent months getting over) in the doorway.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞

hi this was a terrible first chapter haha it'll most likely be revised later on buuut i just wanted to get some content out there !! also this is rly short i'll most likely have longer chapters for later