The Inheritance Games Novels & Stories

I held it. Henry smiled. “If one dies first…” My stomach turned. “The survivor inherits everything.” Nicholas moved immediately in front of us. Evelyn drew her gun. Gabriel did too. Marcus pushed Ethan back. Because suddenly the entire shape of the game changed. I looked at Lydia. She looked at me. Two sisters. One inheritance. One year until twenty-five. And a clause that gave every person who wanted control a very simple solution. Kill one twin. Lydia squeezed my hand.

I got my dream job and was happy to live out my life as a seamstress. Entering the factory the usual concentration was disrupted by the rush of girls scurrying around, modifying dresses and doing their hair. "What the hell?" I asked Emma sped across the room, her shaking hands clutching a crumpled paper. "here!" she said throwing the paper at me. 'The king formally invites all unmated females aged between 20 and 30 to attend a screening audition. 50 girls will be selected, who will then go onto compete in The Princess Games. 3 lucky girls will marry one of his sons. His 3 boys, Theodore, Ezra and Grey will choose a wife each.'

I had been watching my 'future fiancé' for a little over a month and he was getting better and better. Thomas Conner, David Conner's heir, was my future fiancé by free and spontaneous pressure. He was somewhat immature, as he was always playing video games or going to strip clubs. He would be 30 years old, but his appearance is rather youthful, which makes me believe that he is going through some kind of mid-life crisis. I see him finally leaving the gym and laugh when I see his face with several bruises. I turn my attention away from him and focus on the man standing next to him, who is practically the image of a Greek god. He was much taller than George, making him practically disappear.

grandpa's voice echoed out and I just couldn't help but grit my teeth at that. Spencer was just as manipulative and contemptible as his mother and I wasn't gonna let him have my inheritance. AUTHORESS After Josh had left, Monroe Carter looked on at the doors with an expression of concern. "Why suggest he gets married before getting his inheritance? You know he's just gonna find some random bimbo to present to you right? That boy's obviously not ready to settle down, he doesn't even wanna be a CEO. He just wants to inherit everything else, the money, the estates, the lands and the rest of them" came Elizabeth as she walked towards a chair and sat majestically.

What she couldn’t remember or understand was why. She was able to slowly regain her life but was under constant supervision from the pack and remained in residence at the pack home. She had not conceded to join the pack officially because she would not succumb to the duties of a traditional Luna. She refused to give up her independence! Arystyn stood in front of the bank President Joe Presley, as he told her that her account had been turned over to Darian Fredrickson when everyone believed she was dead because she had listed Darian as her next of kin. He was now in control of her life savings! “Oh yes, I almost forgot!” Mr. Fredrickson also retains control of your inheritance from your biolo

Replied Prince again, almost completely recovered, but melancholy. — How terrible! But it's just a rumor, it's not really, is it? Asked Lion, startled. — They say I owe my strength and courage to my eyes, even though I don't think I'm brave, I know I'm stronger than any other child. So, I am only an heir until there is someone to replace me. But I don't have a mother and Dad doesn't want to fall in love again, the nobles are starting to worry that the lineage will end. If that happens, Castela will be without a king for fifteen years! Until new children raised and educated to be heirs grown up. And thereafter, they still need to compete to find out who is the most worthy! … Everything … Beca

Marcus removed a folded document and placed it on the table. “Your inheritance.” Elena stared at the paper. “What inheritance?” “The Blackwood inheritance. The one your grandfather has spent twenty years trying to keep away from you.” “Why would I inherit anything from the Blackwoods?” “Because your biological connection to this family is far more complicated than you understand.” Elena shook her head. “No. I'm done listening to people who make claims without proof.” For the first time, Marcus's smile faltered. Then he nodded. “Good. You have your father's stubbornness.”

By three forty-five, I had come to the conclusion that Grandma's notebook was a terrible instruction manual. It contained dates, names, arguments about territory, and several references to a Huntsman named Robert who apparently couldn't be trusted to follow even the simplest agreement. What it didn't contain was a helpful section titled Congratulations, You're the New Keeper! Here's How Not to Accidentally Get Someone Killed. I'd read the rules three times. I understood the words individually. Putting them into practice was another matter.

On my twenty-ninth birthday, I was supposed to be formally announced as the next head of the Ashford family. But before the charity gala began, my mother fed my succession speech into the shredder and replaced it with a written pledge to my sister. "Lydia hasn't had an easy time since the wedding. Announce in public that you're giving her the Harbor Hotel. Think of it as backing her up." It was the first property my grandmother had left me, and the only project I had been allowed to run on my own in eight years. I asked my mother, "And if I'm not willing?" My father looked at me coldly. "Don't forget, you'll inherit all of Ashford one day. She only has us." They had always used the inh

Her fingers trembled as she lifted it. A slim flash drive. An old one. Military-grade encryption stamped into the metal. And a folded piece of paper, yellowed with age. Handwriting she recognized instantly. Her mother’s. Elara— If you’re reading this, I failed to keep you out of it. I’m sorry. The vault isn’t money. It’s leverage. Names tied to deaths. Wars funded for profit. Men who don’t exist but decide who lives quietly. Locke was never in control. He was a mouthpiece who learned to bite.