Blackwood Estate Novels & Stories

Kayla The car left the main road and entered a long private drive lined with trimmed hedges, fountains, and perfectly cut grass. Hidden cameras followed us as huge black gates slowly opened ahead. Damien rested one hand on the steering wheel of the Maserati. “Welcome home.” I stared through the windshield in complete shock as the Blackwood estate finally appeared. The place was enormous. Calling it a mansion didn’t even feel right. It looked more like a luxury resort mixed with a palace, stretching across acres of land with huge glass windows, stone walls, and balconies overlooking the property. It was so much different seeing this place in the daylight.

It just wasn't the whole truth. She nodded, apparently satisfied, and returned to reviewing our presentation. I looked out the tinted car window. The closer we got, the harder my heart pounded. Seven years. I'd spent seven years convincing myself I was over Ethan Blackwood. Now, in less than ten minutes, I'd know whether that was true. The sleek glass tower came into view. Blackwood Enterprises. It looked exactly as I remembered. Elegant. Powerful. Untouchable. Just like the man who owned it.

"She could bring billions into my agency." Calista straightened slowly, folding her arms. "But she's Mr. Blackwood's wife." I let out a low chuckle. "Don't tell me you actually believe that." Her brows furrowed. "You think a man like Alexander Blackwood just wakes up one day and gets married, in a month?" I scoffed, leaning forward to set my glass down. "After all the rumors floating around?" I stared at the image again, my eyes narrowing slightly. "No… that's not a wife."

When we finally approached the Maxwell estate, I felt Lucious tense beside me. Through our connection, I feel his uncertainty. This wasn’t our family’s packhouse. Pack members were still preparing the Blackthorne estate for my eventual return, but it would take time before it was truly habitable again. For now, the Maxwell mansion would be our home.

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.

I looked down the hallway and through the other side, and there was actually no one in sight. My heart hammered as I approached the large double office doors with D. BLACKWOOD engraved on the metal plate. I forced my trembling hand to knock. No answer. Great. I knocked again. Still nothing. Screw it. I pushed the door open— —and froze in place. Damian Blackwood sat behind his massive black desk. Sharp suit. Cuffed sleeves. Jaw tight enough to crack a diamond. He didn’t look up at me. Not even a glance. I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off by his deep voice.

Adrian was quiet for a moment in the way that meant something was on his mind and he was choosing his moment. I had learned to recognise it by now. The quality of the quiet itself, the way he held his coffee cup, the particular stillness of someone who has been carrying a thought and has decided this is where he puts it down. “The estate,” he said. I waited. “Charles’s legal situation has created competing claims on parts of the Blackwood estate,” he said. “His legal team has been working through it for months. It’s not catastrophic, most of the structure is clean. But it has opened up certain historical questions about

Walking through it felt like stepping right into a fairytale setting. They continued their walk, Ethan leading the way without any real destination in mind. After five minutes, they still hadn't reached the end of the main path. The grand entrance gates were still far in the distance. Looking around, Ethan truly realized for the first time just how massive Blackwood Manor was. The estate was vast enough to look like its own private neighborhood, complete with several smaller guesthouses scattered across the grounds. Because he had always been driven through the gates in a car, he had never noticed the sheer scale of the property until he had to traverse it on foot.

Belle turned toward the window, and the color slowly drained from her face. “You distracted me so well that I didn’t even realize we’d arrived,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. Ethan only winked. “But it worked, didn’t it?” Before Belle could respond, the chauffeur opened the door. Ethan stepped out first and then extended his hand to help her. The instant Belle emerged from the car, she froze. Before her stretched an immense, perfectly manicured lawn, and beyond it stood a magnificent mansion illuminated by warm golden lights. Her breath caught. The estate was breathtaking. And terrifying.

She blinked, barely conscious, but I wasn’t in the mood for conversation. "You’re a hazard even when you sleep," I muttered under my breath before pulling back onto the road. I glanced over occasionally, her face now peaceful, and sighed. She was lucky I had a shred of patience left. Hours on the road, the car ate up the miles at an unforgiving speed, the asphalt blurring beneath me. At last, the towering iron gates of ‘Blackwood Estate’ loomed ahead, opening to the sprawling estate that stretched over hundreds of acres. Dense forests flanked the driveway, a long, winding path leading to the mansion—a cold, imposing structure with high windows and stone walls