Novel & Cerita Blackwood Treasure Maps 3

This Nathan sounds like a man who has been awake all night and has decided that whatever he left out of his statement is more dangerous to hold than to release. Mrs. Blackwood, the voicemail says. I left something out. There is a third payment. Not through the Meridian account. Through a different channel entirely. I don’t have the destination. I only know it existed because I saw the instruction in a communication from David, the name Gabriel’s contact used. The instruction referenced a third account inside Blackwood Holdings. A name I didn’t recognize. I can give you the communication if you want it. Call me back before you call Ethan. Please. Before you call Ethan.

The air inside the subterranean archives of Blackwood Manor tasted of centuries-old dust, decayed vellum, and the distinct, sharp tang of ozone. Clara Rossi adjusted the magnification visor over her eyes, her breath shallow and rhythmic. To an ordinary archivist, the basement of Julian Vance’s ancestral estate was a historical goldmine. To Clara, it was a puzzle waiting to be solved. For three weeks, she had been meticulously restoring the 18th-century blueprinted maps of the estate, peeling back layers of poorly executed Victorian restorations to find the original layouts.

The final puzzle piece clicked into place. Eleanor thought she was manipulating Natalia. Natalia thought she was playing Eleanor. And Damien? Damien had no idea he was standing in the crossfire. I stood, smoothing my lab coat over my stomach. “Prepare the jet. We're going to Zurich.” Elena blinked. “Why?” “Because,” I said, pulling up the encrypted files Natalia had planted in Damien's office, “someone just handed us the keys to the Blackwood fortune.” The screen flickered to life, revealing a document that made my heart skip a beat. It was Eleanor Blackwood's last will and testament, and the named heir was not Damien.

I asked as I opened the door and stepped out. Sebastian stood in the living room, holding a thick roll of parchment stamped with an official seal. He then handed it to me, saying, "Alpha Damon has granted you full ownership of the forest on the eastern border, as well as three mines situated in the northern highlands and two fishing preserves along the western tributary, Luna Elena." I took the parchment and quickly read over the numerous, tightly packed terms, noting that these were the Blackwood pack's most prosperous lands. "How much are these worth?"

Vivienne had been awake most of the night. "Here's what I have," she said, turning her laptop toward the group. "Blackwood's renamed location matches an abandoned forestry station about four hours north. Satellite imagery shows no recorded activity in decades." She paused. "But thermal scans from the last two weeks show heat signatures. Recent ones." "Edmund," Gabriel said immediately. "Maybe," Vivienne allowed. "Or whoever he answers to." Alexander was already on his feet. "Then we go now." "We go prepared," Isaac corrected, quiet but firm. "Blackwood survived thirty years by being forgotten. I'd rather not assume it's stayed empty just because the maps say so."

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.

Silas said. "I saw the map in your study, kid," Marek whispered, leaning forward so only Silas could hear. "I saw the red circle. You’re not the only one who remembers the Blackwood Valley. And you’re not the only one who knows that 'Phase 3' wasn't about securing an asset. It was about hiding a mistake." Silas froze, his hand tightening around the neck of the bottle until the glass began to groan. "What mistake?"

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.