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DEAL

Author: DebbyWrites
last update Last Updated: 2025-03-25 04:20:22

DAMIAN BLACKWOOD

Again, the man who whispered to him as I entered the room began another series of silent discussions with him, and I waited for them to finish. A minute later, they were done.

“And what is this business proposal of yours, young Blackwood?”

I rose and cleared my throat. I wanted to convince him.

“I love my father, Victor Blackwood,” I began, and saw the old man before me raise his eyebrows. Still, I was not done.

“He is dear to me and has taught me everything I now know. He has raised me to be a man, and I want to do him a favour back. He is growing old and fails to see how many opportunities that our locale, Vieuti, carries. I can see them, however, and I want to use all of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“Vieuti is a place that has been home to the Blackwoods for years. We rose from among them to serve them, and have carried out their murders and brought them the drugs they want for their euphoria. The only thing is, my family has sold the same kind of drugs for the pas
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  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   A NEW FIGURE

    ELEANOR SINCLAIR I set down my coffee, the warmth of the mug still on my palms as I re-read Marcus's message, agitated that he would simply not speak about it over the phone. The whole thing makes me tense, as I think it is an uneasy departure from his usually collected manner. The whole thing keeps my head spinning with possibilities-has he uncovered something explosive about Vincent? Or Damian? Something that could change everything we have known until now? The very idea of Damian twists my gut, but I force it aside. I don't have time for distractions, not when I'm so close to destroying Vincent's empire.I slip on my jacket and set out to meet him, the cold morning air almost freezing my cheeks as I make my way to our now usual meeting place. Marcus is already seated when I walk in there, waiting in a corner table with his shoulders hunched over a cup of scalding black coffee. There sits a backpack beside him, and I get the feeling that it has to do with me. His eyes flash up t

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   SOMETHING NEW

    ELEANOR SINCLAIR There are times that Damian's face appears in my mind unbidden.Those are the times when I'm standing there at Vincent's gala once again, picturing him sitting alone at the table while downing drink after drink, a shadow of the love of my past. I-if I may forgive myself for even caring, but there was a time I used to-sometimes wonder if he knows what Vincent is doing, if he's a participant or if he's another pawn. Martin had said he now runs a legal business, after all. Maybe he listened in my absence. I shake my head, attempting to focus, but the guilt in his eyes at the gala haunts me. It sometimes annoys me that I think about him so much, that I even wonder why I'm bothered, why I still find myself drawn to him when Vincent is the one I'm after.I then return to the files, determined to remain on track. The records show payments from Vincent's primary company to Thornesby Enterprises, described as 'consulting fees'. It makes me snicke-consulting, my foor. It is m

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   CLOSER

    ELEANOR SINCLAIR I sit at my desk, Marcus's folder open before me.The white pages bleed secrets in black ink like blood from an open gash, and I wonder if I could have been this successful if I had done it on my own. Definitely not.It's not my job. I couldn't do it with so much perfection.Outside my window, the city hums, a never-sleeping thing brewing with life, and I find myself staring again at Thornesby's blurry photograph, his eyes hard and unforgiving. It holds me in so much of a trance that I reach out and trace the outlines of his face with my finger, wishing I could somehow will Vincent's schemes into existence from doing it. The wineglass beside me is half-empty, its contents sour on my tongue, and I find that the taste mirrors the churn in my gut. I'm thinking about power, about revenge, about the intricate web that Vincent has woven around Vieuti to wrap it around his finger-and how I'm going to cut every thread until it is all mine. Poetic justice. Yes, that's the wo

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   WATCHING EYES

    ELEANOR SINCLAIR Over the next several days, I try to put Damian out of my mind, but he haunts me.The manner in which he appeared at the gala-so unlike the man I had married, and yet so achingly familiar-gnaws continuously through my mind. I plunge into work, managing my cotton business and the dream of climbing to the very top of independence. Yet, each quiet moment brings back his face: the desperation in his eyes, the deliberate solitude, the half-full glass. I feel pity for him, but all the same, I do not think I can go back to him.It takes up to the fifth day of waiting for Marcus's first update to come. When it does, I then agree to meet him at a dimly lit café on the outskirts of Vieuti, where prying eyes would not see us. He comes on time and slides into the booth across from me, his expression grim as he takes in the surroundings."Vincent's been busy," he says, pushing a thin folder toward me. "He's got his fingers stuck in a lot of pies-real estate, tech startups, even s

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   THE DETECTIVE

    ELEANOR SINCLAIR He leaves, but the show went on in his absence. Around me, the gala pulses with energy, altogether a noisy jumble of clinking glasses and strained laughter from every angle, yet my focus stays laser-sharp on Vincent Moreau. He stands at the top of the grand staircase as an elevated figure would, his charisma a shining beacon of light summoning eyes and murmurs to himself like moths drawn to a flame. I, more than anyone else, it seems, knows how much he can burn.His suit gleams under the chandelier's light despite the matte quality to the material, and his smile-calculated, seemingly predatory-never falters. I know that smile all too well. It is the same one he wears every time he tells his lies, the one I imagine he had on while his plans for my marriage to Damian unfolded, infectious like poison through a vein. So... I need answers. I need to know if Vincent is still pulling strings with so much control, if his influence still lingers in Damian's life, or if he

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   MAYBE

    ELEANOR SINCLAIR Or maybe I was lying to myself.And I thought that because I couldn't help but observe as he reached for another drink, his movements growing more fluid, his gaze seeming to blur ever so marginally, because he has knocked a few things over. He is drinking a bit too quickly, and for a moment I take a step in his direction to stop him, to shatter the glass and tell him to come home with me. What stops me is the woman that appears at his table, the light of the chandelier dancing on the revealing dress she wears, the smile practiced. She talks animatedly to him, her hand waving in a light gesture, but Damian's response is sharp, a cut-throat rejection that has her moving back with a stiff smile that carries pain in it. He doesn't need someone with him. That much, at least, hasn't changed-he always did like to be alone when he was sulking. The only thing is that this clearly is not sulking, not truly. It is something more substantial, a silent acquiescence that unset

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