All Chapters of The Inheritance Clause: Chapter 1 - Chapter 7

POV: Avalon PierceThe city lights sprawled like a living organism forty-five floors below Avalon’s office windows, a shimmering sea of neon veins pulsing through San Francisco’s restless heart. From this lofty vantage point, he watched the intricate dance of countless lives unfolding beneath him—people bustling with purpose, free from the shadow of manipulation or unseen strings pulling at their fates. Yet, here he was, ensnared in an invisible trap left behind by the woman who had once been his anchor.Nene’s will sat on his desk like a bomb that had already detonated. An edict issued from beyond the grave—it was less a request and more a command, an ultimatum disguised as a final bequest.Marry Selene Castellano within thirty days.The scotch in his glass caught the amber glow of his desk lamp. He’d poured it two hours ago and hadn’t taken a sip. This ritual—the act of filling the glass, the weight of it in his hand—was all that remained as a vestige of control amid the chaos. Cont

POV: Avalon PierceAvalon usually steered clear of dive bars like this one. The floors were sticky enough to make you think twice about where you stepped, and the walls were decked out with those bright, buzzing neon beer signs that seemed to glow in every colour imaginable. In the corner, a jukebox was cranking out music that was supposed to be Johnny Cash, but honestly, it sounded more like a cat wailing its heart out — definitely hard to tell with all the background noise. Around here, the sound of pool balls clacking together mixed with the low hum of a TV tuned to a Warriors game that pretty much everyone was ignoring. It was a noisy, chaotic scene, the kind of joint most people wouldn’t give a second glance, let alone Avalon.He showed up about 15 minutes early, just doing a little scouting. The bartender was an older woman, probably in her sixties, who looked like she’d heard every tall tale you could imagine—and didn’t buy a single one. She poured him a scotch in a glass that,

The orchestra played something slow and haunting—perhaps Debussy or Satie.Avalon’s hand rested at her lower back while his other held hers firmly. Selene had no choice but to step closer, able to smell sandalwood mixed with something darker—definitely not the cheap college aftershave. This scent was layered and costly.Everything about him now seemed expensive, except his eyes. They were the same green that once held wonder. Now, they reflected only winter.“Relax,” he murmured as they started to dance. “You’re tense. We’re supposed to be newlyweds.”“That’s quite a performance.”“Then sell it better.” His thumb traced a circle on her spine, making her body respond involuntarily. “Margaret’s watching. So is Marcus.”Selene forced herself to relax into his embrace, resting her hand more naturally on his shoulder. “How do I look now?”“Better.” His voice lowered. “Though you could smile now and then. You look like you’re being held hostage.”“Aren’t I?”A flicker of expression crossed