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THE BLACKS

Penulis: DebbyWrites
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-03-26 04:05:59

DAMIAN BLACKWOOD

I watched his face assume a sour expression that had disgust written all over it.

“While I waited, Oliver came a number of weeks later to me,” he continued, his voice hardening. “He told me Vanilla had already been promised to someone else by their father to secure an alliance. When I asked if she had agreed to it, he swore that she did. I did not want to believe him, as I was sure that his sister was in love with me, but I trusted him as my friend and let go by stopping my visits and even asking about her. I buried it all and told myself I’d been a fool to fall for her, to think that she could love me as a Blackwood.”

I watched him closely and found myself annoyed by the emotion that showed on his face. Only weak men let emotions get to them as far as I was concerned, as far as he taught me, and I could swear he was becoming weak.

“A year later, I found out the truth,” he continued, now closing the fist that had held the cigarette. “I started raising the Blackwood
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  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   DAMIAN'S GHOST

    ELEANOR SINCLAIR Seeing Damian Blackwood so close sends a jolt of surprise and shock through me.The feeling is a gut-wrenching tug on the strings of a past I've worked so carefully to get past, and my hands tighten around the champagne glass, the chill of the glass a comfort as I freeze, half-hidden from him behind the curtain of velvet. His voice and that apology he gave in passing, is stuck in my mind, and without my mind playing tricks on me, I think it softer than I remember, without the forceful bite that once made him the man he was.The man I knew and loved. The brutal, reckless man. I watch him stride through the crowd, his broad shoulders a little bent and less erect, his step less assured than the man who used to walk into a room-every room he got into-as though he owned it. The Damian I knew had been a fiery storm-capricious, fierce, even cruel. This man before me now is a ghost of that tempest, faded, lost and subdued.I move deeper into the cover of the curtain, my hea

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   SEE YOU AGAIN

    ELEANOR SINCLAIR The drive into the city is long, the road swallowed up by what seems like endless darkness. I keep the radio silent, letting the engine's hum and my own mind fill the silence. For some reason, Damian's face appears in front of me, the man who was ripped from me by Vincent's manipulations, and I find myself startled by how little I think about him.I don't know where he is-I don't care much. I do not know if he still clings to Vincent's lies, if he ever thinks of me and wonders what happened on that night. The pain he makes me feel is a dull ache, a bruise I refuse to indulge. There is no room for hurtful memories tonight, only resolve. If Damian is still in Vincent's power, then he must be quite a fool.He was never one. Or was he?I can't even exactly remember what he looked like. He was abusive. But he was the best husband, sometimes, so that it was easy to believe that I was married to two different people at once. Whatever... it's better to not think about him.

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   THE COMEBACK

    ELEANOR SINCLAIR Five years have passed since that time.The days have counted into years that etched themselves into my bones, reshaping me from who I was into something colder, sharper, and far more dangerous than the woman who had stood trembling on that desolate sidewalk, watching helplessly as my world and everything I had known in it came crashing down under Vincent Moreau's cruel smirk. The memory of that night and everything that happened-the bite of the cold, and the suffocating haze of chloroform, were a stamp upon the lies that had torn me from Damian and the life we had managed to build. That memory still clings to me like damp rot. I will not deny the satisfaction I get from knowing that I'm not that Eleanor Sinclair anymore, however. I have forged myself anew, working all of the rage I felt into something more dangerous, a precise, unyielding weapon. Vincent had stolen everything-my husband, my trust, my sense of self... even my child-and I spent a lot of time plotti

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   THE KIDNAP

    ELEANOR SINCLAIR I stood isolated on the desolate sidewalk, the rhythm of the city slamming into me, a muted thrum of existence eons removed. Night was bitter and bit at my skin, my shoulders as unforgiving as stone. The streetlights cast long, jagged shadows, their frail light attempting to pierce the gloom that enveloped everything else. I had cried until there were no more tears, and my breath caught, clogged in my throat, pressed down by it all—Damian, our wedding, the child he didn't know that I carried. I was coming undone, disintegrating like a length of twine, and I knew it. But I was going to make it stop. Even if not here. Not now.The engine growled through the silence, the rumble creeping in, slow and weighty, like a stalking animal on its prey. My stomach tightened, a sick plunge that left me rigid where I was. The tires crept along the road slowly, stopping, and I tensed as the window came down. A puff of chill air surrounded me, and with it, his voice—smooth and sli

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   JUST A DREAM

    VINCENT MOREAU And I opened my eyes and woke up from the dream.Perhaps it was a nightmare. It was one, in which I could not locate Eleanor Sinclair.I shut my eyes and relived discovering her after she had run out of the house. It had at first felt eerily impossible, until I took a turn about not more than a block from the house, and there she was, standing beneath a faint streetlight like some old movie heroine.My own foot stamped hard on the brake as my own head wrestled to believe it was her. Her black shining hair shone in the light, a welcome after the darkness that engulfed everything else, and I could even spot from way off the rigidity of her shoulders and the movement of her hands curling and uncurling at her sides. She was coming apart, and it was beautiful to see.I pressed the button to roll down the window, and a blast of cold night air greeted me as I leaned forward, letting my voice adopt that mocking tone of familiarity.Do you need a ride, sweetie?" I asked her, re

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   INTO THIN AIR

    VINCENT MOREAU That was when I saw that it was not the plan.The problem was that I had underestimated her.I had thought of her as a fragile woman, a damsel in distress trapped in Damian's golden cage, a beauty in need of saving from the beast that held her captive. That was my mistake.I failed to read her thoroughly, to see that she had been surviving on her own before she married Damian. It was a strength I could not have seen coming from her, accompanied by a tenacity that enabled her to run into the dark in the face of threat to her person. I had read her messages, eavesdropped on her phone calls, and even mapped her routines with the precision of a cartographer. In all that, I had left out something essential, something that meant everything in the end. It was the force of her will, and if it was driving her even now, she would not be running from Damian alone, but from me, the dreams I had dreamed for the both of us, and all she had known as Damian's friends. The realizatio

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   THE SEARCH

    VINCENT MOREAU The air was cold as I sprinted to the car. Yet, I had run so fast that each breath hurt my lungs and stomach. So determined I was to find her that I barely felt the pain. I would have only a precious few minutes with her before taking her away, because the last thing I wanted was Damian seeing us together. My eyes swept the looming shadows that ran endlessly into the night, darting between darkened forms that twisted and teased me. I knew for sure that she could not have gone far-not in those fragile shoes, not in her condition. She couldn't have. I had studied her every move for months, taken note of her habits, and seen her hesitations. I knew she had a mind of instinct while not being built for physical endurance. Yet the estate sprawled before me, vast and silent, its neat lawns and looming oaks swallowing any trace of her.I slid into the driver's seat with a sense of urgency, the scented leather creaking under my weight, and brought the engine alive. The vehicl

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   INTO THE DARKNESS

    VINCENT MOREAU My heart raced with a goal that had made up every waking moment for months.Possessing Eleanor. I had grown obsessed with her in a way I had with no one else. I itched to own her, to rescue her from the golden cage that was her marriage and the man who failed to do her justice, to treat her as she should. At all costs, I wanted to make her mine.My plan had been cleverly arranged, and it was the result of weeks of watching, waiting, and manipulation. I had paid hard for the planting of those photographs, and carefully altered images which would shatter Damian's trust in his wife. The woman in the photos had been Eleanor, but it still was not her. I had concocted a web of lies, a despicable one I had well designed to build a rift between them. I knew well the temper and pride of Damian. He would answer in fury, and in the chaos, the woman I sought to make mine would be vulnerable—isolated, shunned, waiting for me to step forth and offer salvation. I would become her k

  • Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance   AWAY

    ELEANOR SINCLAIR I was pushing my way through the crowd.As ever, I was proud of Damian, the man who had built this empire, and chosen me to have it to share with him. Tonight would be more than just our anniversary, a celebration of our life together, but the atmosphere was charged, charged with something indeterminate. I sensed it in the way Damian's eyes dodged mine as they had for three months, in the tightness of his jaw as he navigated the crowd of guests. Something was amiss, but I had no idea what.Then he drew the attention of all, his voice cutting through the noise like a knife. The room was quiet, and he began to speak."Eleanor. My wife. My friend. The woman who promised to stand with me."My eyes widened at his tone."But what is loyalty if it is based on deception?"I felt it was strange, an uneasy turn of events. It caused me to question him about what he was doing, tugging on his arm to present my inquiry. There could have only been small that would be more perplexin

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