Novel & Cerita Blackwood Estate

CHAPTER 6: THE ESTATE The town car glided through wrought iron gates that parted silently, revealing a long, tree-lined driveway. Lyra pressed her face against the window, her heart pounding as the estate came into view. "Holy shit," she whispered. The Blackwood estate was not just a house; it was a symbol of wealth and power. The large three-story stone mansion sat on well-kept grounds, with its windows shining in the afternoon sun. Fountains were scattered throughout the beautiful gardens, and a circular driveway surrounded a big metal sculpture that likely cost more than Lyra's entire college education.

My pregnant wife, alone, in a city crawling with enemies, under my name and face plastered across headlines as a wanted murderer. And she left the house without backup. I opened my mouth to issue another command but— “Boss, we’re here,” Thaddeus murmured, slowing the car. We’d reached where it all started— Not just a grave. Not just a name carved in stone. But the very root of every Blackwood sin. The estate. The first Blackwood’s house. The true Blackwood estate. Thaddeus slowed the SUV to a stop just in front of the towering iron gates, rusted but still standing, like sentinels too proud to fall.

Beside the trough, Valen stood like a stone monument, his shadow stretching across the clearing to touch the front bumper of Julian’s silver Swiss sedan. "Look at him," Maya said, her voice dropping an octave, though it lost none of its chilling precision. "Three weeks ago, Lucian sat in my kitchen in Manhattan and told me that my share of the Blackwood estate would be calculated according to the 2021 domestic baseline guidelines. He had twelve lawyers behind him, all wearing the same cashmere you are wearing today. They had charts, Julian. They had spreadsheets proving that my labor over three years of marriage possessed a net corporate value of zero."

’Good morning staffs, I would very much like to make this meeting a very short one’ The manager tells us. ‘For the new staffs who do not know the boss, this is mr. Jones Black, C.E.O of Mars private hospital, which you all know has branches all over the continent’. The manager says, addressing the fine piece of art beside him. Mr. Black just waves at us, a light smile on his lips which makes my breath hitch. I know I am sounding like a hopeless romantic right now but I can’t deny the attraction I feel towards this man. ‘Oh. My. God! He looks even more stunning with that smile’. Goldie says, twisting a strand of hair around her finger as she stares dreamingly at Mr. Black.

Just raw walls and open gaps. The moment he stepped up— The air vanished. Complete silence. An unnatural silence. Then he saw it— A black door in the middle of the floor. It wasn’t mentioned in any records. A number was written on it— 413 But the mall only had shops up to 412. Room 413 didn’t exist. The door was slightly open. Inside — darkness so thick the flashlight couldn’t pierce it. Aarav gently pushed the door. It creaked. And then—

Blackwood. Finally, the moment arrived. Zeke moved to the center stage. The lights dimmed, focusing a spotlight on him as he tapped the microphone. The room instantly fell silent and everyone’s eyes made their way to where he stood with a small smile on his face, eager to hear his speech. “Good evening, Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for your extraordinary generosity tonight, the Blackwood family is forever in your debt.” He began, his voice amplified, filling every corner of the vast room.

Eloise’s grandparents. I wondered if the girls had visited often, how much time they’d spent on the estate. How old was Eloise the first time Marcus and Julian saw her? How long ago did she die? The conference room door opened behind me. I was glad Julian couldn’t see my face. I didn’t want him to know I was thinking about her. I looked at the map again—the estate’s layout, from the Black Wood forest in the north to a small creek on the west side. Black Wood. I read it again. My heart suddenly pounded loudly. Blackwood.

"My Dad might be getting old, but his taste isn't usually this low. How many whimpers did you have to give him in bed before he agreed to bring you to London and pretend you’re some Zurich consultant?" I didn't blink. Instead, I took a step forward, staring straight into his hateful eyes. "Mr. Alistair Blackwood values competence—something you clearly lack, Mr. Adrian. If you want to discuss what happens in bed, perhaps we should start with why you were so desperate to dump your fiancée in a forest just to gain access to this company."

The Sopttyi District was a smudge of gray in the rearview mirror, and Timothy hadn't looked back once. Grief was a luxury he couldn't afford, not with the weight of two men like Kan and Gideon pressing into his life. Cus was in his element at the Blackwell estate—or "the fortress," as the old soldier called it. Within the first week, Timothy had caught the man actually whistling while he cleaned the armory. The Zions had claimed the thousand-acre perimeter, patrolling the treeline like they’d found holy ground. Timothy had never seen them so at peace.

-———— Blackwood Estate was enormous. We drove through gates that looked like they'd been forged in another century, iron, elaborate and engraved with wolves in mid-leap. The driveway was long, lined with torches that flickered against the dark. Wolves in formal attire milled about the courtyard, their voices a low hum, their eyes tracking our car as it pulled to a stop. I'd never seen so many Alphas in one place. I could feel them, their power, their arrogance and their ancient blood. It pressed against my skin like a physical weight. My wolf stirred restlessly beneath the surface, uncomfortable and very alert.