Inheritance

**Sneak Peek**

Hello everyone, it's been so long. 

Please don't be mad🫣 I appreciate your messages and words of encouragement to keep writing this story. To be honest, when I first began writing Inheritance, I didn't quite know what vision I had for it or where it would go. I feel like I've changed so much as a person since initially writing this book and with it my thoughts and perspectives on life. With that being said, even now, I'm not exactly sure how the story will end but I want to do it justice by writing an ending that Sasha is deserving of. 

For now, please enjoy this sneak peek of what's to come and I hope it keeps you fed while I go back to the drawing board and keep brainstorming!

...

Rather than embellish in the way I had explicitly lusted for him, he took a few hesitant steps towards the living room area. Slowly, he turned around and walked towards me as he locked his sharp eyes on my naive frame.

"Sasha, I-"

"Don't. Just don't. I don't want to hear it." I told him, peering up at him as he loomed over me.

"Then why did you let me inside?" He asked, his thick brows furrowed together while he seemed to be lost in his own disillusioned thoughts.

"The storm outside, it's not safe. As soon as it dies down, you're more than welcome to go." I snapped, wanting him to know exactly what this was.

I was being a decent person. Something he didn't have a clue about.

Silence. Dead silence followed and amidst the quietness, the tension between us became palpably loud.

Needing distance from his gravitational pull, I sidestepped his much larger frame and was just about to turn my body when I felt a strong grip on my wrist.

"Wait, we need to talk." He said, more as a command rather than an ask.

In this very moment and for the rest of his damn life probably, he didn't have the right to demand anything from me. Nothing at all.

"I don't walk to talk." I said abruptly, hoping I really wouldn't have to spell it out for him. Again.

"What do you mean? You deserve an explanation. For what I did. It was fucked up. I'm fucked up." His rich voice raised slightly as he released my wrist and began to absently tug on the ends of his grown out hair. He took long strides while pacing back-and-forth, pulling so hard on his strands, I thought they were sure to split from the root.

Though he made a valid point, what more could he say? Austin had already told me everything.

"Of course I do, you piece of shit." I croaked, refusing to let him act like he had even an ounce of decency in this situation. And refusing to feel any remote sympathy for seeing him in this uncharacteristic state.

"Then let me please explain—"

"Austin already beat you to it." I muttered under my breath, gauging his surprised reaction.

His pacing stopped, as he abruptly removed his hands from his hair. He visibly tensed at the mention of his brother's name.

"What did he say?"

"Nothing you didn't already know." I retorted dryly, trying my best to not give in to his temptation. But I was failing. Because beneath my stone cold demeanor, I could feel small tiny cracks begin to materialize in the protective wall I'd been adamant in building between us. I glared at him in hopes that it would psychologically reinforce my anger towards him.

"Tell me, what can I do to make this better? Is there anything—anything Sasha, I can do for you to forgive me? I don't fucking care how long it takes." He declared, keeping a respectable distance away from me but still managing to take my breath away with his steel presence.

What could he do?

Nothing, right?

After all, I was completely and utterly done with him, right?

Right, Sasha?

But somehow that organ on the left side of my chest, began to beat a little faster. And with the intensity of his gaze, it sprung with a pep in its rate that I hadn't felt in weeks. That alone was enough to stupidly convince me that perhaps I wasn't quite ready to let that feeling go.

And with it him.

The truth was I'd never felt more alive than in the times I'd spent with him. Through the highs and the lows—gosh, there'd been so many lows— I still had an elated feeling in my heart for him that I knew would not easily subside.

Perhaps it was because, for a brief second in my life, I'd started to falsely hope that maybe I wasn't alone anymore. In this daunting and excruciatingly exhausting world, I'd mistakenly believed that I'd found my person.

I felt seen. 

But, I now realize that it had been in the most toxic of ways possible.

"I thought I never wanted to speak to you again." I whispered, trying to look anywhere else but at his perfectly landscaped face that once held so many inexplicable memories.

Just this once, I didn't want to burden myself with thinking about what a rational response to him would be. I didn't want to play our usual game of tit-for-tat. Instead, I wanted to speak from the heart. The same heart that was broken.

He'd finally managed to break me into a million pieces like he'd promised.

"Has that changed?" He questioned, followed by a momentary bout of silence as he allowed me enough time to respond on my accord.

"No, I still never want to see you again." I paused, as he released a brief hum. "But, even though I know this is goodbye, there's just one last thing I need you to do. For me."

There was just this one final thing I needed from him. One last request I wanted him to take from me, so I could be done with him for good.

...