Blackwood Resort Novels & Stories

Independent Southern State. The Blackwood Family Manor. “Mr. Blackwood, I’m Ria Mortensen.” Ria stood straight and formal, eyes filled with respect. Behind her was Deryl, equally composed. They had only been granted entrance into the legendary Blackwood family estate after presenting an ancient amber pendant—personally given to them by Old Master Rosetti. Calling it a manor hardly did it justice. It was practically a castle. Understated, yet exuding a rich history. Luxurious, yet dignified in its silence.

As I entered the resort, the fragrance of flowers entered my senses. When I reached the rooftop, I saw Thiago was already present. He was a man in his late thirties, but his looks were still like he was in his early twenties. I had been doing business with him regularly for the last six years. We had been trading diamonds, gold, and some more crystals. “Blackwood,” He stood up as soon as he saw me. “Thiago,” I greeted him back. “What’s up, man? Why did you call to meet me so urgently?” He shook my arm as he asked, “Everything good?”

Amelia I never should’ve answered my brother’s call. The thought crossed my mind for the tenth time as I stood in the marble-clad lobby of Blackwood Enterprises, the polished floor so clean it reflected the anxious rise and fall of my chest. High above me, the company’s insignia — a minimalist black ‘B’ encased in a silver circle — gleamed against the stark white wall, daring me to turn back. I didn’t.

Nathan looked up at it, then shook his head with an amused smile. When Winter returned to the main living room, she heard Mr. White speaking to the medical team. “The golf cart is waiting outside. If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you around the grounds.” Dr. Lucas stood and smiled at the others. “I’ve heard the snow at Blackwood Manor is beautiful. Since this is private property, most people never get a chance to see it. We had fresh snow last night too, so our timing couldn’t be better.” “Sounds good. Thank you, Mr. White,” Dr. Miller said.

BLACKWOOD GROUP — EXECUTIVE OFFICE Her breath caught. She opened it. The text was simple. Cold. Like it had been written by someone who didn’t believe in unnecessary words. Ms. Elena Moore, You are requested to attend a private meeting today at 10:00 a.m. Location: Blackwood Group Headquarters, Executive Floor Attendance is mandatory. Reply to confirm. — Office of Adrian Blackwood Elena stared at the name like it might bite her. Blackwood. Everyone knew the name. In the city, it was spoken the way people spoke about storms—something powerful enough to ruin your life from a distance.

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.

Severin Blackwood. A man she’d only heard about in sharp fragments, like broken glass, Wealthy, Ruthless, Dangerous, And for some reason, obsessed with Damian’s marriage and the Blackwood inheritance. “Ma’am?” the front desk attendant called softly. “Your pass has already been pre-approved, You can go right up.”

"He's probably already compromised our original route. **We're going to head north, towards the Blackwood Forest. The cabin is located about five miles inside the forest perimeter, near the old logging trail. Coordinates are locked in, but be ready for anything.**" Blackwood Forest. The name conjured images of ancient trees, impenetrable shadows, and whispered legends of things that lurked in the darkness. It was a place of isolation, a place where the digital world held little sway. But it was also a place of unknown dangers, a place where they would be completely cut off from the outside world. "Blackwood Forest?" May asked, a tremor of unease in her voice. "Are you sure that's the best op

The gravel crunched under the tires of my beat-up sedan as I pulled into the long, winding driveway of Blackwood Retreat. Pines towered on both sides, thick and dark, swallowing the late-afternoon sun. The place looked exactly like the website promised… secluded, peaceful, a former monastery turned spiritual sanctuary for the lost and the broken. That was me. Broken.

The ancient Blackwood Hall stood deep in the old-growth forest, a massive stone structure carved into the cliffs overlooking the Sound. Torches flickered along the walls, casting long shadows over the gathered Alphas. The air was thick with power — dominant scents clashing like thunder, the metallic tang of barely-contained violence heavy on every breath.