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Lahat ng Kabanata ng Chains of Fortune: Beneath the Blackwood Name : Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

68 Kabanata

CHAPTER ONE: THE PRICE OF HIS NAME

Ivy SinclairThe room smelled like old money.Polished mahogany, aged whiskey, a whisper of cigar smoke that clung to the velvet drapes like secrets never meant to be told. The air was cold, too—cold enough to make my spine straighten in the stiff leather chair, cold enough to remind me that I didn’t belong here.Not really.This wasn’t my world. This was his.Lucien Blackwood’s.He sat across from me, silent, statuesque, carved out of privilege and poison. I don’t think he’d moved since I walked in. Not even a blink. Just those blue eyes—arctic and unreadable—watching me like I was a chess piece someone else had dared to place on his board.God, he was beautiful.Not in a soft, charming way. No. He was the kind of beautiful that hurt to look at. The kind that made your heart beat faster for all the wrong reasons. Sharp jaw, high cheekbones, a mouth that looked made to ruin women, and those damn eyes—like frost over a grave.He hadn’t said a word In over three minutes.I let

CHAPTER TWO: THE HOUSE OF ICE

Ivy SinclairThe moment the iron gates closed behind me, something inside me shifted. Like a door had shut—not just physically, but spiritually. I was no longer Ivy Sinclair, daughter of innovation, heartbeat of a dying empire. I was Ivy Blackwood-to-be, the bride sold into the frozen jaws of a marriage I hadn’t chosen.And this—this mansion—was my cage.Blackwood Estate rose like a monument to control. A monolith of steel and stone perched on the cliffs of upstate New York, watching the Hudson River wind like a silver thread below. Towering windows, tall as cathedral glass, reflected nothing but clouds. No color. No softness. No soul.I hugged my coat tighter as the car pulled up to the curved entrance. The circular drive was lined with trimmed hedges, symmetrical to a fault—like everything in Lucien’s world. Clean. Clinical. Soulless.The driver opened the door for me with mechanical precision. No smile. No warmth. Just a nod as I stepped out, my boots crunching softly on the gr

CHAPTER THREE: DINNER AND WAR

Dinner was a battlefield dressed in linen and silver.The table stretched long enough to hold an entire boardroom meeting. The chandelier above glittered like a warning, and the wine in my glass was the color of old blood. I sat at one end, in a chair too big for me, while Lucien Blackwood occupied the far side like a king bored by his own court.He hadn’t looked at me since I walked in.I’d worn a deep green satin dress. Not for him—God, not for him—but because I needed armor. Something to make me feel strong. But the way his eyes skimmed past me, barely registering my presence, stripped me bare.The silence wasn’t comfortable. It was calculated.The clink of silver against porcelain filled the space he refused to break. So I did.“Is this what dinner will always be like?” I asked, my tone flat, my fingers tight around the stem of my glass.Lucien didn’t look up. “What do you mean?”“Silent. Awkward. Like a courtroom sentencing.”A faint lift of one dark brow. “You’d prefer

CHAPTER FOUR: THE FIRST STORM

IvyThe storm started before the thunder.The rain fell in fine needles across the Blackwood Estate’s tall windows, tapping softly like they were trying to get inside, to crawl beneath my skin. The house didn’t creak, didn’t sigh. It watched. And it whispered when I wasn’t listening.I had been walking the corridor barefoot, the hem of my silk robe brushing against cold marble floors. The shadows didn’t move, but they felt alive, clinging to the ceilings and corners like secrets waiting to strike. I’d tried to sleep. Tried to close my eyes and pretend I wasn’t trapped in a mausoleum masquerading as a mansion. But something inside me felt unsettled tonight. Not just the storm. Something else.I passed the hallway that led to the east wing. The one I was told to avoid. A locked door waited at its end, tall and brooding like a sealed vault. I stopped in front of it, heart ticking louder than the wind.What’s behind there, Lucien?I imagined rooms filled with ghosts. With locked dia

CHAPTER FIVE: THE KISS THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING

Ivy The sound of my heels echoed across the marble floor like a countdown. Every step toward the ballroom felt like walking into a storm I could already feel pressing against my skin. The chandelier’s glittering light did little to thaw the cold in my chest.I wore red.Lucien hadn’t said a word about what I should wear. But I wanted him to see me—not as a pawn, not as a convenience, not as a Sinclair contract wrapped in silk. I wanted him to feel it. Regret. Lust. Rage. Anything.I wanted to be impossible to ignore.And he noticed.From the moment I entered the room, his gaze pinned me like a knife to a corkboard. He didn’t move, didn’t blink, just watched. As if he knew something about me I didn’t yet. As if he was cataloguing every curve, every inch, and already planning what to do with it.I hated how my breath hitched.He looked devastating. His tuxedo fit him like it had been stitched directly to his body. Black on black, with a crisp white shirt beneath. Hair swept bac

CHAPTER SIX: THE HEAT BETWEEN WALLS

The limo door slammed behind me with a finality that made my skin crawl. I didn’t look back not at the velvet curtain we’d hidden behind, not at Lucien. My heels clicked against the marble as I stepped into Blackwood Estate like a woman walking straight into her own beautifully furnished prison.My lips still burned from that kiss. No, not a kiss—a collision. It was violent. Demanding. Desperate. And I had kissed him back.I wanted to scream at myself.Behind me, his footsteps echoed through the grand entrance like the ticking of a bomb. Slow. Steady. Dangerous.The silence between us was suffocating. We walked through the endless hallways like strangers again. Except now my body remembered his touch. My skin ached with it.I stopped at the foot of the stairs and whirled to face him.“What the hell was that?” I asked, voice sharp and breathless.He didn’t flinch. Just tilted his head slightly like he was analyzing me. “A kiss.”“That was not just a kiss.” I hated how my voice

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE WOLF IN SILK

I couldn’t sleep.Again.This mansion, for all its polished edges and priceless silence, pulsed with secrets. The walls didn’t just hold echoes—they whispered them. Lucien’s footsteps. The maids who moved like shadows. The ever-present tension that hung in the air like a noose waiting to tighten.I padded down the hallway barefoot, robe clutched around me, the chill of the marble floor seeping up into my bones. I was tired of being watched, tired of being handled like a business deal, and most of all—I was tired of pretending this marriage wasn’t swallowing me whole.A sliver of light spilled from the study.Of course he’d be awake.Lucien Blackwood didn’t sleep. He prowled.I stood at the edge of the door, just watching him. He sat at the sleek black desk, his jacket discarded, shirt sleeves rolled up. The lamplight turned his features to cut glass—sharp, almost inhuman. His tie hung loose around his neck, collar open.He wasn’t typing. Just staring at the screen, lost in som

Chapter Eight: The Warning Beneath Silk

The gown clung to my body like a secret I hadn’t meant to tell.Midnight-blue silk, slit high at the thigh, the neckline an invitation I didn’t recall signing. It wasn’t something I would have chosen, but then again, nothing about this marriage was something I would have chosen.The note had been simple: Wear this tonight. Be ready by eight. —LIt had been left on my bed beside a velvet box containing the gown, matching heels, and a pair of earrings shaped like dripping stars. Diamond, of course. The weight of expectation had never looked so beautiful—or felt so dangerous.I adjusted the straps at my shoulders and stared at myself in the mirror. The girl looking back wasn’t me. She was a stranger cloaked in wealth, lips stained the color of bruised plums, eyes lined to look sharper than they felt.The walls of Blackwood Hall were quiet when I stepped out. The cold marble tiles beneath my feet reflected the chandelier’s light like a thousand disapproving eyes.At the bottom of th

CHAPTER NINE: SHADOWS ON VELVET

The ballroom smelled like opulence. Velvet, roses, champagne—and something bitter just beneath the surface. I could feel it all pressing against my skin like a second dress.Lucien had been absent most of the evening, though his name traveled like a ghost from conversation to conversation. Everyone knew the Blackwood heir had taken a wife. Everyone wanted to see the girl who’d landed the devil himself.And I—dressed in backless silk that kissed every curve, diamonds biting into my collarbone—smiled like I hadn’t sold my soul to survive.“This way, Mrs. Blackwood,” a server murmured, gesturing to the private balcony. The words stung, even now. Mrs. Blackwood. A name I wore like chains made of crystal.The cool air outside was a relief. I leaned against the railing and stared down at the glittering lights of Manhattan. Below me, the city roared like a living beast. In here, we played gods and monsters.I heard the door open behind me. His footsteps. I didn’t have to look.“You lef

CHAPTER TEN: A DANCE WITH SHADOWS

IvyThe dress they sent me was black satin backless, high-slit, sleeveless, a spider’s web stitched in luxury. It hugged my hips like a threat and shimmered like sin. It wasn’t me.It was the version of me they wanted: polished, poised, untouchable.A Blackwood.Lucien didn’t say a word when he came to my door. He just stared. His eyes didn’t move from mine, but I felt them on every inch of exposed skin. The air between us felt thick with things unsaid, things undone.“You clean up well,” he finally muttered. His jaw was taut, as if saying anything nice cost him blood.I didn’t reply. I didn’t trust my voice not to tremble.Because the way he looked at me tonight… it was a promise, or a warning. Maybe both.The car ride was silent. Not the comfortable kind. The kind that bruises. He sat beside me, close but not touching, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, cufflinks glinting like tiny blades. I stared out the window, watching Manhattan blur past.I used to love the city

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