A Dangerous Mystery (An Inheritance Games Fanfic: Grayson Hawthorne x New Girl)

The House

⚠️ Warning ⚠️ swearing bc Cassie gets angggyyyy

Some lines were taken from The Inheritance Games, credits to Jennifer Lynn Barnes.

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When we made it back to the house, Alisa, Oren, and Parker showed Libby, me, and Avery to our rooms. I stared in astonishment at the humongous room before me.

In front of me, the stones had been replaced by a giant wall of glass that stretched from the ceiling to the ground. A king sized bed was off to the right, and to the left across from it was a little arrangement of couches and sofas. Closer to the glass wall was the bathroom, with a bath, shower, sink, and a full out vanity. On the other side of the room diagonal from the bathroom was the ginormous walk-in closet. There weren't any clothes in there. The closet itself probably had the same sq ft our old apartment did in Connecticut. The bathroom, closet, and my bedroom all had beautiful chandeliers swaying back and forth above me. A desk sat off to my right against the wall that contained the door.

I walked over to the window. It overlooked the main entrance of Hawthorne House. I could see the gate and the road to the doors. Then a thought passed my mind.

"Can people see through here?" I asked Parker. Alisa and Oren had followed Avery to her bedroom, which could be accessed from my room by a door next to the couches.

"Only if you want them to." And with that, Parker walked over to a panel I hadn't noticed before. He flung one of the switches, and the clear glass darkened. "The tint can be turned to different levels. This is the heaviest mode."

I nodded, storing the information in my head. As I walked around my room, testing all sorts of gimmicks, a knock sounded on my door. I froze, wondering why Parker hadn't stopped them. Well, he only stopped people from interacting with me if he thought they were a threat, so I guessed whoever was at the door came in peace.

"Come in." I winced at the sudden croak in my throat. I watched as the door opened, and a rude blondie sauntered in, acting like he owned the place. Not anymore. I grinned inwardly at the thought.

"Ms. Grambs—"

"Cassie. Just call me Cassie. No need for formalities if we're going to be living in the same house." Grayson Hawthorne gave me a glare that I'd gotten too many times from others around me whenever I corrected them.

"Ms. Grambs." He sneered. I narrowed my eyes at him. Asshole. "I'm not sure how you and your sister did this." His sneer had disappeared and was replaced by an angry and business-like expression. "I don't know what hold you had on my grandfather, or what kind of con you're running here."

I stared at him dumbfounded. "We're not—"

"I'm the one talking right now, Ms. Grambs." His tone was harder than steel. When I looked into those gray eyes, I saw they weren't the same beautiful gray anymore. They were cold as ice. "I haven't a clue how you pulled this off, but I will find out. I see you now. I see you both now. I know what you are and what you're capable of, and there is nothing I wouldn't do to protect my family. Whatever game you're playing here, no matter how long this con, I will find the truth, and God help you when I do."

If I hadn't seen the way his eyes flickered every time he saw me, I would have been deathly terrified. But I had. Even now, I saw through his hard shell, and I saw the same thing I did in Altman's office. Recognition. Fear. But now pity.

"Leave," I told him, my voice quiet but hard. "Get out of my room."

He arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because this is my house, mine and my sister's, and I will not allow you to torment and threaten us under my roof. So this will be the last time. Get the fuck out of my room."

And with that, I shoved him out the door, not even bothering to make sure he was fully outside before I slammed the door on him.

It felt good, letting out all that anger. Especially on some dickhead like Grayson.

I stomped towards the desk. It was made of some kind of glossy wood, and there were several shelves and cabinets above and around it. I went through each and every drawer, hoping to find some sort of clue  but or message from the dead man. But nothing.

I let out a puff of breath. I collapsed in the soft leather chair, rubbing my oncoming migraine. I held my head in my palms for a bit before I remembered the letter. I took it out of my pocket. Not having any idea about the letter, naturally I carried it everywhere.

Dearest Cassiopeia Elle Grambs,

There are some things that can never be found. Yet, we always find them in the end if we can learn to just look hard enough. Have patience. 4/12/02.

-Tobias T. Hawthorne

For some reason I'd been expecting for new words to come up, to show the meaning behind the strange poem, to give meaning to the whole mystery. Instead, all I had was Tobias Hawthorne's final puzzle. One last game. Even in death, he was still the game master.

I sighed. I read the letter over and over again until I could recite it from memory. I thought about Mr. Hawthorne. I distinctly remembered Grayson stating how much he loved riddles and puzzles.

Riddles and puzzles, I thought to myself. What would I do if I wanted to hide a message, yet make it easy to find? I pondered on the question for a while. My gaze went over towards the pen stand. It was a small cylindrical tube that held a couple pens and pencils. Near the pen stand, a small candle lay unlit. Why would a seventy-something year old man have a berry scented candle in his room? I highly doubted it was because of the smell.

Wait. Wasn't there a way to use lemon juice as invisible ink? I racked my brain as I tried to remember what caused lemon juice to reveal itself.

That's when I realized what the candle was for.

...........................................................................

A few minutes later, the candle was lit, and my entire room smelled strongly of strawberries. I held the letter over the flame, holding my breath as I did. If I burned or charred the delicate piece of paper, I'd have no clue as to what Tobias Hawthorne meant.

Gently running the paper over the blaze, I barely allowed the fire to tickle the back of the paper. Finally, after a long time, five words came into view. I quickly withdrew the paper from the candle and softly blew at it to extinguish it.

Strawberries completely taking over my sense of smell, I read the words that appeared on the paper with confusion.

Remember, Cathrine Grace Westing. Remember.
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a/n: YALL I PROMISED THIS CHAPTER ON THURSDAY AND IM SO SORRY BUT SMTH CAME UP AND I COULDNT FINISH. ALSO IVE BEEN RUNNING AROUND MY NEIGHBORHOOD WITH A LITTLE WAGON ASKING PEOPLE IF THEY WANNA BUY GIRL SCOUT COOKIES ON SAT AND SUNDAY 😭😭 anyways I'm so glad I finally finished it but I'm not among any promises for when the next chapter might be so don't expect to upload for a while. Also I highly suggest you go buy cookies from your local GS if u haven't already. Tysm to those who r still here after my bad time management 🥹🥹🥹 it means a lot to meee. btw Happy Saint Patrick's Day!!! 🍀(to those who know, yes it's a Westing Game reference)