The Inheritance Games Audiobook Novels & Stories

Well, he probably didn't care much about an unborn kid a thousand years in the future. Anyway, after the blond-boys hunt ended, one of the last ones with orange eyes started a rebellion using the large poor communities from where he came. He founded a new republic called Castela in the north of the island. And died a few days after the founding of the new kingdom. Then a boy said to be the heir of the hero "Arthur" assumed the throne. The End! Really, only the first paragraph of this book is worth reading. The rest of this book talks only about politics.

I felt my grandfather’s eyes linger for quite a bit, before he cleared his throat and began. “Leanna Thorn. You invoked the sacred Lunar trials, using your right as a member of the ruling family, laying your claim to the throne of Alpha,” he started, the air in the hall turning ceremonial. My gaze remained fixated on the ground as I wanted nothing more than to run away. A part of me even wished for that arrogant alpha to show himself and somehow mess things up. I turned to the side, instantly finding his figure in the crowd, but to my disappointment, he just stood silently, watching everything play out with the cold arrogance of a peak predator.

He was a tall man with a composed posture, the kind who didn’t raise his voice but made the room freeze anyway. “You’re throwing it all away for that boy?” Marcus had growled, his fists planted on the oak table in the dining room. “The Sinclair Group isn’t a game, Audrey. This inheritance, this name, it’s your inheritance. Your grandmother built half of it with her own hands. And you’re just going to throw it all away for some Lockwood nobody?”

Alicia laughed. "No." "Eventually he would've." "Maybe." "Definitely." That night, after everyone else had gone to bed, Alicia stood by the window overlooking the snowy grounds. The estate was quiet. Peaceful. Home. Alex joined her a few moments later. Neither spoke immediately. Sometimes silence was enough. Finally Alex nodded toward the notebook on the desk. "The Eleanor Foundation." Alicia smiled. "Too much?" "Not even close." She leaned against him. Warm. For years she'd inherited secrets.

Turning from the window, I straightened the lapels of my suit, armoring myself. Then she walked in. Her shoulders were set, her chin held high, the dark shades perched on her nose a perfect emblem of her arrogance. My eyes, sharp and searching, caught the glint of a familiar watch on her wrist. A huge, painful lump formed in my throat. This woman was squandering my inheritance, luxuriating in a life that was mine. "Hello, Mrs. Williams. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," I said, the smile on my lips a cold, calculated gesture that never touched my eyes.

"The... the override... it’s... it’s renaming the shares... it’s assigning the entire corporate liability to the clone line..." "That’s the deal, Dad," I whispered, leaning my face against the glass cylinder until my hot breath fogged the view of his silver hair. "You sold the heiress to the highest bidder. Now the buyer is here to audit the books." The child in my arms let out a sharp, suffocating gasp as the data-stream fractured into forty thousand different individual code-paths, her tiny, scarred chest heaving as the weight of the open-source rebellion began to unpick her inheritance line by line. She looked up at me, her wide, brown eyes finally losing their cold, adult calculation, he

She searched for fifteen minutes while the rain came down and found three possibilities and read their websites carefully. The third one was right, a two-person firm in a part of the city that wasn't on anyone's radar, specialising in estate and inheritance law, good reviews, no obvious connections to anything she needed to be afraid of. She stopped under a shop awning and called the number. It rang four times. Then a woman answered, professional, unhurried. "I'd like to file an inheritance claim," Liora said. "Against the Rhodes estate. On behalf of a proven blood relative." She paused. "Anonymously, for now. I have documentation."

My eyes narrrowed. “Fourteen down,” Grandma said, her voice wobbling. “‘Inheritance.’ Eleven letters.” My head snapped toward her. She looked back at me with wide innocent eyes and I kicked the bed frame again. Nate filled in INHERITANCE without noticing anything. Grandma watched him write with desperate tenderness, her eyes going from his hands to my stomach and back, over and over. I just stared at the crossword until the letters blurred. Then Nate dropped his pen. It rolled off the tray and under Grandma’s bed.