Novel & Cerita Blackwood Estate

Hawkins seemed pleasant enough, with a gentle smile that never quite reached her eyes. "The Blackwood estate is quite large," she explained, leading me down a long corridor. The polished wood floors reflected the dim lighting, and the walls were adorned with portraits of stern-looking men and women, their eyes following us as we walked by. "But you’ll get used to it quickly." We passed several rooms sitting rooms, dining halls, and a library that seemed to stretch on forever. It was overwhelming, to say the least, but I kept my expression neutral, nodding as she pointed things out.

CHAPTER 81: PREP Dashiell's Pov The sprawling estate stretched out before me, every inch of it brimming with the sounds of people running, scrubbing the walls, mowing the lawns and trimming the shrubs. From the towering marble pillars to the magnificent arched statues that framed the large double doors, it was the epitome of old-world grandeur. The estate, no, the palace, originally belonged to the last known generation of the Etruscans before it was bought by the Blackwood family more than a century ago.

Ama was contemplating an effective way to gain access to the Blackwoods mansion. Mr. Reynolds had already given her a file containing everything she needed to know about the family, and she had spent all of last night reviewing it and conducting her own research. The Blackwoods came from old money, which they gained from their construction business, and talent for creating unique art pieces. Which have aided them in their money laundering.

Blackwood Estate The iron gates of Blackwood Estate stood tall, their heavy design both elegant and unwelcoming. A long, winding driveway stretched beyond them, lined with towering trees that cast long shadows over the path. Hidden motion sensors were discreetly placed along the driveway, in the gardens, and against the estate walls, detecting even the slightest movement at night. The estate itself was massive—a dark, imposing structure that loomed against the sky, built more for privacy than comfort. Infrared cameras watched from strategic points, feeding live footage directly to Alexander’s system and his security team.

the line clicked dead, telling me that the conversation was over. I rushed back into the hospital alerting the nurse from before that I'd be leaving on an errand but to keep me posted and made my way to the Blackwood family mansion. ••••• My tires slowed to a stop as the automatic gate rolled open, the security obviously expecting me. I slowly drove in and parked. The evening sun stretched lazily across the horizon, some parts of the golden streaks blocked by the huge buildings in the Blackwood estate. Stone fountains and shaped hedges littered the grounds, giving the estate a more medieval vibe.

The two-day growth of beard gave him a rugged, predatory look that contrasted sharply with his tailored suit jacket. "Where?" I asked, my voice still a bit shaky, my hand instinctively moving to the slight curve of my stomach. "A coastal estate in Maine," he said, his eyes locking onto mine. "The 'Blackwood Point' property. It’s registered to a defunct charity Emily founded years ago, The Rhodes Foundation for Heritage. It’s a ghost on paper, but it’s very real on the ground. It’s a fortress, hidden behind miles of private road and dense forest, sitting right on the edge of the Atlantic."

A small pause hangs between us. “It’s a little disappointing that my mate managed to resist my completely naked body long enough to walk all the way back to the house.” My gaze drifts downward before I can stop it. His hand slides along the center of his body. It moves slowly up and down the length of his erection, clearly meant to draw attention. The yard behind Blackwood Manor is surrounded well enough to feel private. Thick trees from the Shadow Woods close in around the property, hiding most of the land from anyone outside.

​The Blackwood estate was no longer a home; it was a factory of matrimonial industry. Every corridor was lined with garment bags, silver trays, and frantic planners whispering into headsets. The air was thick with the scent of floor wax and the artificial sweetness of hundreds of imported flowers. But for Vivienne, the air was a poison.

He thanked Alistair and hurried out the door. Alistair took a slow sip of his port, listening to the heavy doors click shut. The dead man was walking again. —————— The Blackwood Estate was nestled deep in the Hudson Valley, entirely isolated from the frantic pulse of Manhattan. As the Rolls-Royce Phantom glided down a private, tree-lined avenue, the ancient oaks seemed to swallow the sunlight, casting long, elegant shadows over the road. Sitting in the back seat, I felt my phone vibrate. A heavily encrypted message from Olivia flashed on the screen.

Blackwood. TBC!!