The Inheritance Games

Chapter 3: The Other Twin

Penelope’s POV.

No way.

After he dropped that bomb on who he was, I just stared at him without a word. It made sense now.

He simply smirked. “What? Wrong twin?” he teased.

I immediately shook my head. “No… I didn’t… I was just caught off guard. I didn’t think you were, the Adrian Davenport.”

“The Adrian Davenport?” He chuckled, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You say that like I’m important or more famous than my brother.”

I knew he wasn’t. People seemed to orbit Alexander like he was the sun, but looking at Adrian, I couldn’t understand why. He had that calm, effortless way of holding himself, like he could make the room stop without even trying. Before I could say anything, he extended his arm.

“How about I show you around? Let’s enjoy the evening.”

I hesitated, then slipped my hand into his. His grip was firm but relaxed, and the subtle confidence radiating from him made me straighten up without realizing it. This wasn't how my plan was supposed to go but at this point, being close to him and smelling his cologne, I didn't think I cared.

We started moving through the crowd, and immediately, he began his commentary, soft enough that only I could hear. “See that trio over there, cornered by the champagne fountain? One’s already spilled, and the other two are pretending it wasn’t their fault. Classic Malvern girls. Obsessed with appearances, allergic to humility.”

I laughed quietly, trying not to snort. I knew them, they were lesser elites like me and they were as vain as he said. “You notice all this…why? Do you follow them around at their homes too?”

He grinned. “Sometimes, yes. But mostly, it’s just observation. People are like poorly written scripts—you can see the lines before they speak.”

I didn't know why he was telling me this but I was entertained and he was funny. “That's called stalking, y'know.”

“Observation, really.”

We paused near a table of older couples. He leaned close, voice dropping. “Those two? The Hendersons. She’s been collecting charity awards for twenty years. He’s faking enthusiasm every single time. They never miss an opportunity to congratulate themselves.”

I bit my lip, laughing. “Oh my God. You’re terrible.”

“I prefer the term ‘entertaining,’” he replied, smirk tugging at his lips. “You’ll thank me later. By the end of the night, you’ll know exactly who to avoid… and who to make an impression on.”

He was actually helping me and I didn't mind, because of him, I won't be awkwardly standing about and hoping to meet his brother. If I was lucky enough I might meet any of the other mega elite families.

I tried to focus, but he kept nudging me into different clusters of people, whispering small, ridiculous stories about them that made me choke on my laughter. One woman tripped over her gown while trying to pose with her cocktail, and Adrian muttered, “She’ll probably make a trend out of that one.”

I couldn’t help but grin, thinking how absurd it all was. Here I was, pretending to be something I wasn’t, in a room of impossible wealth and etiquette, and Adrian was making it feel like a game I might actually survive.

“And over there,” he said, tilting his head slightly toward a young man in a sharp tux, “that’s Lyle Davenport. Yes, my cousin. Hard to get to, nearly impossible. He spends half the gala avoiding conversation and the other half critiquing the hors d’oeuvres. Try anything sneaky, and you’ll fail spectacularly.”

I nodded, trying to memorize the tips while still laughing at his dry, teasing delivery. “Great. Sounds like a challenge.”

“You’ll survive. I think.” His voice had that playful edge, like he knew he could make me blush without even touching me. “And if you get too lost in the crowd, just look for me. I’ll be watching for signs of impending disaster.”

I tried hard not to smile at that.

Then, just before he excused himself to mingle elsewhere, unfortunately , he lifted my hand, kissed it lightly, and let his eyes linger on mine.

“There’s a fundraiser at an orphanage next week,” he murmured. “My brother will be there. If you want a chance to actually meet him…well, there you go.”

I felt my chest tighten, the teasing, charm, and subtle tension all condensing into that single moment. He was…helping me.

“Thank you,” I whispered and I really meant it.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said, smirk deepening. “You’ll need charm, timing, and probably luck to deal with Alexander but I think you’ve got all three.”

He smiled at me again, teasing. “Goodluck, Penelope.”

I watched him go, still holding the hand he kissed. Who would have thought that not all the Davenports were assholes?

Adrian…

I shook my head. No, I wasn't here for romance, I told Clara that and all mega elites were assholes. Adrian was probably using me but I will be smart, I'll get what I want and use him first.

I was not here to swoon for any man, no matter how hot or charming.