The Final Gambit (The Inheritance Games Book 3)
The Final Gambit: Chapter 75

What did you just do?” Jameson looked at me the way he had the night he’d told me that I was their grandfather’s last puzzle, like after all this time, there were still things about me, about what I was capable of, that could surprise him.

Like he wanted to know them all.

“I called the authorities and reported that human remains had been found at Hawthorne House.” That much had probably been obvious if they’d overheard me. What Jameson was really asking me was why.

“Far be it from me to state the obvious,” Thea cut in, “but wasn’t the point of digging that up to make a trade?”

I could feel Jameson reading me, feel his brain sorting through the possibilities in mine.

“I have another call to make,” I said.

“To Blake?” Rebecca asked.

“No,” Jameson answered for me.

“I don’t have time to explain,” I told all of them.

“You’re playing him.” Jameson didn’t phrase that as a question.

“Blake said to bring him the body, and it will be returned to him. Eventually. And when it is, I won’t have broken any laws.”

It was easier thinking of this like chess. Trying to see my opponent’s moves coming before he made them. Baiting the moves I wanted, blocking attacks before they happened.

Xander’s eyes widened. “You think that if you’d taken him the remains, he would have held the illegality of that move over you?”

“I can’t afford to hand him any more leverage.”

“Because, of course, this is all about you.” Thea’s voice was dangerously pleasant—never a good sign.

“Thea,” Rebecca said quietly. “Let it go.”

“No. This is your family, Bex. And no matter how hard you try, no matter how angry you manage to get—that’s always going to matter to you.” Thea lifted a hand to the side of Rebecca’s face. “I saw you back there with your mom.”

Rebecca looked like she wanted to get lost in Thea’s eyes, but she didn’t let herself. “I always thought there was something wrong with me,” she said, her voice breaking. “Emily was my mom’s world, and I was a shadow, and I thought it was me.”

“But now you know,” Thea said softly, “it was never you.”

Mallory’s trauma was Rebecca’s trauma—probably was Emily’s, too.

“I am done living in the shadows, Thea,” Rebecca said. She turned to me. “Bring on the light. Tell the world the truth. Do it.”

That wasn’t my plan—not exactly. There was one move that would let me protect the people who needed protecting. One sequence, if I could execute it.

If Blake didn’t see it coming.

Reporting the body was just step one. Step two was controlling the narrative.

“Avery.” Landon answered my call on the third ring. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but our working relationship came to an end quite some time ago.”

I’d had other publicists and media consultants since, but for what I was planning, I needed the best. “I need to talk to you about a dead body and the story of the century.”

Silence—enough of it that I wondered if she’d hung up on me. Then Landon offered up two words, her British accent crisp. “I’m listening.”

I threw Tobias Hawthorne under the bus. Thoroughly and without mercy. Dead men didn’t get to be picky about their reputations, and that went double for dead men who’d used me the way he had.

Tobias Hawthorne had killed a man forty years ago—and covered it up. That was the story I was telling, and it was one hell of a story.

“Where are you going?” Jameson called after me once I’d hung up with Landon.

“The vault,” I replied. “There’s something I need before I go to confront Vincent Blake.”

Jameson ran to catch up with me. He made it past me, then turned back just as I took a step that put his body far too close to mine.

“And what do you need out of the vault?” Jameson asked.

“If I tell you,” I said, “are you going to try to lock me up again?”

Jameson lifted a hand to the side of my neck. “Is it risky?”

I didn’t look away. “Extremely.”

“Good.” His green eyes intense, he let his thumb trace the edge of my jaw. “To best Blake, it will have to be.”

Some words were just words, and others were like fire. I felt it catching inside of me, spreading, as searing as any kiss. We’re back.

“And once you’ve bested him,” Jameson continued, “because you will…” There was no feeling in the world like being seen by Jameson Hawthorne. “I’m going to need an anagram for the word everything.”