Jennifer Lynn Barnes Inheritance Games Book 5 Mga Nobela at Kwento

She never deserved such happiness, so why did she dive into it, hoping fate had finally taken pity on her. Tom laid in the hospital bed like a vegetable, his life hanging on the line, all because of her. The tests streamed down her face, all hope lost. The silence of the penthouse pressed in, her breath hitching as she closed her eyes, willing her mother’s voice to guide her. “You always had secrets,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the emerald pendant her mother gave her, its weight heavy with memory. “Did you tell me anything… anything about the inheritance?” Her mind spiraled, clawing for a conversation, a hint, anything to point to the letter. Tom’s lifeless face, Alex’s pained eyes, a

Marcia's heart stirred as she looked at Colby, sensing what he might say. "Judith...took her own life in my study," Colby began, his voice distant. "At the time, Eli and I were playing chess in the living room. We thought Judith was just napping in her room. Who could have imagined that she'd leave us like that? Over the years, Eli and I have never been alone together, afraid that we might blame each other. Why did we stubbornly insist on finishing that game of chess instead of checking on her sooner?"

I begin but he silences me with a look. Axel produces a syringe from his bag and draws a thumbs worth of Ryker’s blood. I stare at it. It looks exactly like mine, there’s no discernible difference, and yet I know it contains Lycan genes, while mine contains nothing but duff ones. Ones so shameful even my own father hid me away. I shut my eyes and a flash of it, of all the blood splattered on the ground, splattered from my mother’s throat, appears as if I’m right back there and I jerk, just as the needle goes in.

The thought of someday having a family with these four men, carrying their children, continuing both the Maxwell and Blackthorne bloodlines, felt simultaneously terrifying and right. "That's... something to consider," I managed, feeling heat rise in my cheeks. Fin's grin was wicked as he caught my reaction through our bond. "Something to look forward to, you mean." I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't help smiling back. "We have quite a few things to handle before we start thinking about pups." "True," Liam agreed, though his green eyes held a softness that made my heart skip. "Reclaiming your heritage comes first." After dinner, we retired to the library where Alpha Maxwell had gathered the

The smug little intern had his head cocked just slightly, eyes darting between us like this was his favorite drama. I lowered my voice to a whisper, lacing it with venom only Hannah could hear. “This is just the beginning. There is no winner yet. I’m going to have Lucas. And I’m going to have the inheritance. Because I’m the one worthy of it. I’m the first daughter of the Black family.” Her eyes glinted. She leaned in closer, her breath grazing my cheek as she whispered back, sharp as a blade: “You’re adopted, Lily.” The words echoed down the hallway like a gunshot.

What looked back at me wasn’t charm; it was ugly accounting—interest compounded, principle intact. “This isn’t the boy’s war, you silly,” he said to me. “It’s your inheritance. You can deny it, delay it, dress it up in love and marriage, but it’s still yours. And I always collect the debts.” The doorframe cut his shadow in half. The guards hauled him into the corridor, the sound of their boots like spot-on punctuation. The pistol in Elky’s hand lowered a fraction, which in this house passes for relief. The table lamp hummed, proud of surviving the scene. The rain kept writing its slow manifesto on my shutters.

“And I deserve to inherit her properties. Including this house,” Margaret rolled her eyes. “You are not even a real daughter,” she said, her voice dripping with malice. “You are just a mistake, a product of my father's infidelity. You don't deserve anything,” My father, Jenkins, looked at me with a mixture of disappointment and disgusting “You fool, you need to understand that you are not in a position to be making demands,” he said. “You've brought shame to this family and you need to be grateful that we're even willing to take you back in,”

Sebastian said at last. Ivy turned to face him fully. “You’ll lose.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “You’re welcome to try and stop me.” Their gazes locked—not as lovers, not yet as enemies, but as two people who finally understood the scale of what stood between them. Outside, the estate grounds lay quiet, immaculate, unchanged. Inside, Julian Blackwood’s final gift took root. War, dressed as inheritance