The Inheritance Games Audiobook Novels & Stories

The air grew still between us, the sun warming the tops of our heads, the game long forgotten. “Also let me tell you - ” she cleared her throat, “our grandfather wasn't a straightforward man, he liked to play sick twisted games just for the fun of it, and even in his death he made sure those games kept on running even if it involved the lives of his grandchildren. That inheritance - the clauses to claim it - it has no end Cheryl, it might just be a ploy to keep Oliver married.” I didn’t know what to say. Not at first but her words had sliced something to me, I didn't know how to process it, I didn't know what to make of it so I stayed silent for the mean time.

"By sending cleaners to kill us on your island? That’s a strange way to show family love." "The cleaners were a test of your resolve, Darius," Ivy said, her voice smooth as silk. "And you passed. You protected my daughter. You showed that you are more than the sum of your father’s sins. But Ethan has already made his choice. He doesn't want your protection. He wants his inheritance." "Inheritance?" I looked at Ethan, my heart breaking. "What inheritance? There’s nothing left but blood and debt." Ethan reached into his coat and pulled out a small, leather-bound book. I recognized it instantly. It was the master ledger, the one our father had kept in the hidden wall safe. The one I thought had

The kitchen was completely still. "Howard," she said. "Yes." "What is it called?" A pause. "Victoria named it," he said. "Before she died. She gave me the title along with the instruction to write it." He paused. "She named it in 2008 when she told me about the consortium clause and what she had done to protect you from it." He paused. "She said: call it The Ashford Inheritance. She said: because the inheritance is not the money and it is not the empire and it is not even the building. The inheritance is the story. The full story. Written so it can be read. Written so my granddaughter understands what she comes from and what she survived and what she built." He paused. "She said, that is the

Isabella stood by the pool, watching him go, her heart aching. The will reading was held in the library. Isabella sat beside Sebastian, Lucas, and Lily in her lap, her mind still reeling from her conversation with Damien. The lawyer read from a document, his voice droning, the words blurring together. Sebastian inherited the estate. Damien inherited the company. Isabella inherited a trust fund she hadn't expected. "Grandfather wanted to take care of you," Sebastian said, as they walked back to the car. "He didn't even know me."

On the day my grandfather, who was the wealthiest man in this state, died, the entire family got into a huge fight over the inheritance. My father could not stop the fight, so he requested my mother’s support. When I arrived, my grandfather was lying motionless on the bed. He was not even changed into his funeral suit. My aunts were pulling on each other’s hair as they fought over the ownership of a building. My uncles were fighting over the Rolls-Royce car keys. The entire family looked like hooligans as they fought. My mother was holding gold bars as she yelled at me, “What are you waiting for? Take that gold ring off your grandfather’s finger!” I rubbed my hands and was just ab

When they try to take your voice, the next page read, remember this: nothing survives being named by the wrong person. I closed the book. Outside, engines turned over. Messages arrived. Movements aligned. The inheritance wasn’t a crown. It was a line drawn in blood and choice. And I was ready to cross it.

"Thank God you were so pigheaded. Otherwise, I might've actually married you—a fraud. "Now, even if you got down on your knees and begged me to marry you, I wouldn't be interested. The man I'm marrying is Arthur. He's the real heir to the Harrison family. As for you—" She looked me up and down, her eyes filled with contempt. "No matter how capable you think you are, you're still getting thrown out." My mom let out a cold snort. "Look at you now. If you'd just listened to us from the start, you wouldn't have ended up with everyone turning against you."

But then again, he didn't have expert knowledge on the recent happenings, so he was forced to agree. “They’re calling it Luna’s Wrath,” he continued. “They’re wrong.” A chill slid down my spine. “Then what is it?” Rael stepped closer, voice dropping. “Inheritance.” The word struck harder than any accusation. I laughed once. It was sharp, brittle. “I don’t come from anyone important” He keeps forgetting I'm an orphan. “You don’t know where you come from,” he corrected. The room trembled. Not physically, but inside me. The light flared in response, climbing my arms in thin silver veins.

Its base was adorned with a tiny, almost imperceptible etching: the same stylized crest of The Genesis Council. A pawn. In a game Alexander didn't fully understand, played by unseen hands. And Leo, his son, was the ultimate prize. The thought spurred a cold, terrifying resolve. He had been a player in their game for too long. Now, he would burn their chessboard if he had to, to get his son back.

I go to the table. The page is dense, old handwriting in two languages, English and something older that I recognize as a Creole variant from my archive research. The English portion is a full clinical description of a working called The Lover's Ruin, which I have read about in Beatrice Ashworth's journals but which has never been as specific as what is written here. I read. The curse activates upon inheritance of the Sterling fortune. This I knew. The compulsion layer drives the heir to sabotage genuine love through pride, cruelty, and self-destruction. This I knew.