I WOULD HAVE APPRECIATED THE FIRST CLASS if I wasn't so busy clutching my aching ears and squeezing my eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the stinging ring in my head.
Like my sisters, I had never flown before. Unlike my sisters, I wasn't so chill about it.
"Lib, my loveable little ball of gothic sunshine, stop clicking photos of everything in existence." I gave her a mock glare half pleading look, "The flashes are giving me a migraine on top of the already going on headache!"
Libby grinned and rolled her eyes, "Fine, but just one more," she declared. "Smoosh in and hold up your warm nuts."
On the other side of the aisle, a lady shot Libby a disapproving look. I wasn't sure whether the target of her disapproval was Libby's hair, the camo-print jacket she'd changed into when she'd ditched her scrubs, her metal-studded choker, the selfie she was attempting to take, or the volume with which she'd just said the phrase warm nuts. I couldn't help but snort.
Adopting her haughtiest look, Avery leaned toward our sister and raised her warmnuts high. I gave my signature lazy grin. Usually, it would be me who'd be the rowdy, chaotic, and excited one. But I guess the plane and the whole ordeal had taken a little toll on me. My mind just wouldn't stop thinking.
Who was Tobias Hawthorne?
Why does he know me and Ave?
HOW does he know me and Ave?
Have we ever met him?
What have we done for him to give us something?
Soon my sisters were on both of their phones. I grinned and said in an old lady's voice, "Oh this generation kids! Always on their phones." I got a few grins and 'shut up's. Then, like the hypocrite I was, I stuck my nose into my phone. Obsessively reading on and on about Tobias Hawthorne.
He'd made his money in oil, then diversified. I'd expected, based on the way Grayson had said his grandfather was a "wealthy" man and the newspaper's use of the word philanthropist, that he was some kind of millionaire.
I was wrong.
Tobias Hawthorne wasn't just "wealthy" or "well-off." There weren't any polite terms for what Tobias Hawthorne was, other than really fucking filthy rich. Billions. Capital B-billions. He was the ninth richest person in the United States and the richest man in the state of Texas.
I had excellent control over my facial expressions. That's why I used to win so much against the players in my and Avery's poker matches. But right now... seeing the numbers, I'm sure my eyebrows went to the moon.
Forty-six-point-two billion dollars?!
My already nagging little headache got even worse when I realized there were as many zeros in that figure as the fingers on my hand. Both of my hands. I put my phone down and stared at the cloudy bed outside the window. The ringing, still in my ears, but my mind, too occupied to register. My sisters were excited about the possibilities. I, on the other hand... was worried.
A man so rich can not be good news. What are we getting ourselves into? I closed my eyes and was taken back to an old memory.
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The man in front of me was anything but good.
"You're so cheating!" I was a kid, I had cute round cheeks once. I puffed them out, trying to look angered at the man as I glared at him. All I did was look pouty.
"That's what you say, little brat," he simply moved his rook and then he glanced up at me, "you gonna play or keep sulking around?"
My little hands move the pieces around. And when he takes my pawn again but I don't let him take away the piece. I gently but firmly wrap my hand around it. He looked up at me, "You like this one in particular, little brat?" his gruff voice asked me.
I shake my head.
"But you hold it even after it is the fourth pawn killed. Why?"
I look at him. My tiny amber eyes go golden in the setting sun. "I feel bad for the pawn..."
The man cocked his head to the side and I continued, "The pawn just watches while all its friends get killed. Watches as it gets used. It knows it's gonna be next soon. The pawn doesn't have power or money like the king. The pawn can't protect its friends..." I looked into his eyes, with a spark of determination, "I'm going to be rich and powerful so I can be king and save all my friends!"
The man was silent for a moment before getting up with a grunt and sitting beside me. He put an arm around me and pulled him into a side hug, "Let me tell ya something, little brat," he wiped the tip of my nose clean of dust, making me sneeze, "and you remember this well, you hear me?" I looked up at him and nodded, "Money is nothin'. You hear me? Nothin'." He didn't let me argue, "money is a curse. A poison." He must've noticed the pout on my face. He grinned, "See it like this: if you have too much medicine, you get sick. Too much money and power and you get sick."
I didn't understand the man immediately but I nodded. He looked up at the setting sun, "Trust me, little brat. That type of sick is the worst. If you wanna protect your friends, do it even if you don't have a single penny."
I followed his gaze. The beautiful ball in the sky made my eyes swirl with colors. I rested my little head on his shoulders, my small arms around his chest.
"I trust you, old man."
The man beside me was anything but good. He was kind.
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A dark-haired woman in an all-white power suit met Libby, Avery, and me the second we stepped past security. "Ms. Grambs." She nodded to me, then to Aver, as she added on a second identical greeting. "Ms. Grambs," and then to Libby with a third identical greeting, "Ms. Grambs."
She turned around and we followed. She introduced herself as Alisa Ortega from McNamara, Ortega, and Jones. Avery asked a few questions, and Alisa answered that she didn't know. The conversation was pretty perfunctory. I kept myself out of it.
"Do you know what's in the will?" Avery asked."I do not." She gestured to a black sedan idling near the curb. She opened the back door for us. I slid in, and Libby and Ave followed suit. Alisa sat in the frontpassenger seat. The driver's seat was already occupied. I tried to see the driver but couldn't make out much of his face.
"You'll find out what's in the will soon enough," Alisa said, the words as crisp and neat as that dare-the-devil-to-ruin-it white suit. "We all will. The reading is scheduled for shortly after your arrival at Hawthorne House."
Not the Hawthornes' house. Just Hawthorne House.
I let the conversation go by as I looked out. The scenery blurred in my view. A while later, my breath got caught in my throat. I couldn't help but let a small 'wow...' slip from my lips.
Hawthorne House sat on a hill. Massive. Sprawling. It looked like a castle-more suited to royalty than ranch country. Pillars, massive; taller than most of the many trees rounding it. Architecture, so vast and complex, yet so captivating. The mansion looked like something straight out of a fairytale.
There was an army of cars, some luxury, and some science-fiction looking. And there was also a beat-up motorcycle that looked ancient enough to be in a museum. Roughed up enough to be sold for parts.
Alisa eyed the bike. "Looks like Nash made it home."
"Nash?" Libby asked.
"The oldest Hawthorne grandson," Alisa replied, tearing her gaze from themotorcycle and staring up at the castle. "There are four of them total."
I would've thought about the other Hawthornes but I was too busy admiring the beautiful monument of a house.
What caught my attention was when Ave said, "Don't worry, I keep my heart under lock and key."
At that moment I couldn't help but be reminded of all the times she said something similar and fell into the very same ditch almost immediately after.
"Well, not a very great lock, then, Ave." I grinned at her, using the childhood joke to its best use.
I received a nice hard pinch on my side. I'd say it was worth it.
I snickered as we walked ahead but then Alisa decided to bring the question on me, "And you? Ever lose your heart to somebody? Ever found love?"
I looked her right in the eye and with a lazy smile I shrugged, "I have my girls. I don't need much more than that."
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The foyer was bigger than some houses—easily a thousand square feet—like the person who had built it was afraid that the entryway might have to double as a place to host balls. Stone archways lined the foyer on either side, and the room stretched up two stories to an ornate ceiling, elaborately carved from wood.
Even just looking up took my breath away.
The detail. The intricacy. In one word, "Marvelous."
"Indeed," A familiar voice replied, making me realize I said that out loud.
"You've arrived." The voice drew my attention back down to earth. "And right on time. I trust there were no problems with your flight?"
Grayson Hawthorne was wearing a different suit now. This one was black-and so were his shirt and his tie.
"You." Alisa greeted him with a steely look.
"I take it I'm not forgiven for interfering?" Grayson asked.
"You're nineteen," Alisa retorted. "Would it kill you to act like it?"
"It might." Grayson flashed his teeth in a smile. "And you're welcome."
It took me a second to realize that by interfering, Grayson meant coming to fetch me and my sisters. "Ladies," he said, "may I take your coats?
Avery politely declined. Libby agreed. When he turned to me I just said, "No."
As if I was bored with all of this. In reality... I couldn't help but feel drawn.
The worst kind of sick.
I immediately shut that thought down. Ignoring the way Gray-eyes seemed to darken at me. Or the sickening feeling in my stomach that this house was not all it seemed to be.
I chose to take a minute away from my sisters and the other two, walking away at a distance. They didn't notice, too occupied gawking at the clever closet.
I didn't get far before that sting was in my head again. The sharp ringing. And that throbbing feeling.
I stumbled a bit. My hands instinctively grab at a pillar beside me. And then I saw memories. Memories I never lived.
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I stood grinning at the boy. The air was crisp with the smell of juicy apples. Autumn.
"Hey!" I chided, "You're supposed to count till twenty with your eyes closed!"
The boy grinned back. His blonde hair ruffled in the wind, "I am! You just hide bad."
I walked up to him, my curved lips betraying my annoyance, "Liar. There's no way you found me so quickly with your eyes closed. And I'm an amazing hider!"
He gave me a big smile and wrapped his arms around my small form. His voice was innocent and filled with promise as he squeezed me tight,
"I'll always find you, Arina. Always."
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