Page 3 of Charming Deception

We all look up at Graysen, who’s still standing, holding the letter.

“To begin, none of you will know who devised your challenge. It is up to the person who devised your challenge to divulge this information if and when he or she so chooses. It is my hope that you will play this game the same as you live your lives: as a team, rather than as opponents. For in the end, it will be up to your siblings to decide if you successfully completed your challenge and won the game.”

“Fuuuck,” Harlan groans.

“Additionally, may I remind you that the Vance family’s privacy should remain paramount at all times. Aside from the people in this room—and this part is underlined—you cannot discuss the game with anyone or tell anyone about the challenges.”

Since I have no idea what my challenge is, it’s hard to know how that might play out.

However, I know what one challenge is. The one I devised.

Harlan’s eyes meet mine and I glance away, sipping my whiskey.

Graysen sets the letter down next to the cigar box. “Well, Savannah. I guess you’re up.”

Savannah gets to her feet, smoothing her fitted dress. “All right. Let’s get this done.”

Graysen picks up the cigar box and lifts the lid for her.

“What do you see?” I ask her.

“Envelopes,” she says dryly.

Graysen, who can also see into the box, says, “They’re upside down. She can’t see the names written on them.”

“Whatever you do,” Harlan says, “don’t pick mine first.”

“Maybe there’s an advantage to being picked first,” Savannah says. “You get it over with.”

“I’d rather be picked first.” Damian sits back, perusing his “competition.” “Imagine the pressure if you’re last, if everyone else already completed their challenge and time is running out.”

“Or maybe worse…” Savanna says. “What if we all fucked up?”

“Just pick a name already,” I growl.

Savannah takes a deep breath and reaches into the box. She pulls out a small gold envelope, sealed with a wax seal.

She turns it over and reads the name on the front.

“Jameson.”

Everyone looks at me.

Harlan laughs his demonic laugh.

I groan and drag a hand through my hair. The idea that one of my older brothers or my older sister has devised a personal challenge for me, to test what I’m made of? It’s the stuff of nightmares.

I’m definitely no saint.

“We seriously can’t contest this shit?” I complain as Damian pats me on the back. I know this challenge will be hard. That’s why it was chosen for me. And I do not want to lose my inheritance—hell, my birthright—over a fucking game.

“Just play the game, Jamie.” Savannah hands me the envelope; my name is handwritten on it, probably by Valerie. “It’s what Granddad wanted.” She goes to top up her drink, probably relieved to be off the hook.

“Easy for you to say,” I mutter. “Your name wasn’t drawn first.”

“Savannah will take her turn, just like the rest of us,” Graysen reminds me.

“Not like any of us have a choice,” Damian says.

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