Charlotte Blackwood Top Gun Novels & Stories

And I could see it. Something underneath. Something he wasn’t saying. “So,” Kai continued, slipping his hands into his pockets, “you’re settling into Blackthorn?” “I’m trying to,” I replied. “Must be overwhelming,” he said. “New school. New environment… new title.” I narrowed my eyes slightly. “I didn’t realize ‘girlfriend’ was a title.” “At Blackthorn?” he said. “Everything is.” Damon huffed a quiet laugh. “Ignore him.” “I’m not saying anything wrong,” Kai said easily. “Just helping her adjust.”

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐥 The hydraulic whine of the gunship’s rear ramp closing shut cut off the damp, salt-heavy air of the Calabrian coast sealing the cabin into a pressurized chamber of low-frequency vibrations. Inside the dimly lit cargo bay, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. Lucian Blackwood sat on the cold steel floor, shoved into a corner between two heavy equipment crates. The tailored charcoal suit that had once commanded respect in Manhattan boardrooms was torn at the knees, caked in coastal mud and gravel.

“No? So what were you going to do with it? Peel a potato and cook it to make me feel at home?” “Look, you’re wielding a gun at me. Naturally, I got scared a little that you were going to use it on me. A knife is no match for a gun, though.” “Yeah, you’re right. A knife is no match for a gun at all. All the same, I don’t feel so good about you brandishing a knife. Here, hand it over.” Charlotte says, extending her hand for the knife. I move towards her, but instead of giving it to her, I raise it and plunge it in the direction of her neck at the last minute.

Not unkindly. “It isn’t,” Evelyn says. “I am not calling about what you owe me.” Another pause, longer. “I am calling because I have a contact. Charlotte, specifically. You know Charlotte’s reach in this city.” Charlotte Blackwood. Lucian’s aunt. The family gossip with back-channel connections that run through every layer of New York society, the kind of woman who knows things before they are knowable and has been trading in information for forty years. “What kind of reach,” I say.

Only one man sitting above the Board. Only one person powerful enough to bury deaths. Erase records. Control corporations. And manipulate governments. The founder of Blackwood Holdings. The man Damian had admired his entire life. The man who supposedly retired years ago. The man Damian called grandfather. Arthur Blackwood. The room went completely silent. Then a gunshot shattered the window. Glass exploded inward. Everyone ducked instinctively. A second shot followed. Then a third. The mansion erupted into chaos. Charles immediately spun toward the darkness outside.

Amateurs. “How can you be sure? Mrs Blackwood isn’t 100% sure it was Mr Bertrand.” He quizzes “Because.” I hold up the couple of butts I collected, “It’s his brand of cigarettes.” I shrug, I should know. I bought them often enough, and smelt them on his breath. I shudder at the thought. Luke stands next to me and puts his arm around my waist pulling me close. “More than one person smokes that brand Miss Blackwood.” he looks sceptical.

He answered and then the line went dead. The fuck!? The first notification that popped up slammed the brakes on my heart. BREAKING NEWS BUSINESS TYCOON’S LATE WIFE HAD SECRET TWO-YEAR AFFAIR WITH HIS BEST FRIEND What? I sat up immediately, feeling my heart racing in my chest. What was this? Who did this? Another one appeared immediately. “DNA TEST ROCKS BLACKWOOD FAMILY.” Who was responsible for this? I swear, I’d end them. The moment I swiped that off, a third one appeared and for a moment I forgot to breathe.

“Take this. It won’t fix everything, but it stops the bleeding.” He looked at the envelope, then at her. “You still believe in triage,” he murmured. “And you still bleed too quietly.” He left before her composure fractured. *** From a high-rise across the street, Charlotte lowered a telescope camera. “He’s going to Elias Hartman alone,” her tech reported. “Perfect,” she said, eyes gleaming. “Let’s see how much fatherly mercy a Hartman extends to a disgraced Blackwood.” Victor’s voice bled through her earpiece: “You’ve done well.”

The video was already uploading. And miles away, in a bedroom filled with trophies and malice, a phone chimed with a notification. Charlotte picked it up. She watched the video. She saw the bottle smash. She heard the screaming. She saw Tamine Jordan, the scholarship girl, looking like exactly what Charlotte had always called her. Trailer trash. Charlotte smiled. She opened the group chat labeled Blackridge Buzz. Charlotte: So sad. Looks like Evans's charity case is having some family trouble. Who knew he was dating into such... class?

She used it whenever she wanted someone to feel small. Her gaze swept the hall slowly, lingering over the elders, the pack members watching. Until it landed on me. The moment she recognized me standing beside Blake, her smile sharpened. “Well,” she said softly, though hwr voice carried clearly through the hall, “this is embarrassing.” A ripple ran through the pack. The elders shifted uneasily. The tension spread like water. Charlotte stepped forward as if invited, though no one had spoken. “I thought I heard something amusing,” she continued, glancing toward the elders, then back at the wolves watching from the back. “But I didn’t realize the Blackwood Pack had fallen so low that their Alpha