Novel & Cerita Constance Blackwood

Their soft wails filled the sterile room as if the sound itself sought to cut through the mansion’s cold silence. But there would be no rescue, no salvation. Soon, a woman in a white lab coat, her nameplate showing, Dr. Ana Blackwood walked among the cribs, her eyes scanning the infants with a detached clinical focus. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly, her face pale and expressionless. She had been with the Black Order for decades now, her loyalty and her role in Project Regen the Elixir of Youth were pivotal. She was no stranger to death or suffering—it was merely a part of her work now.

Apparently, he'd run straight to the Dean to report me, probably to shift attention from his own cheating. And sitting in the chair directly across from the Dean, his jaw clenched tight when our eyes met, was Gideon. But it was the woman standing behind Gideon's chair that made my blood run cold. Tall, elegant, with silver eyes and an aura of power that filled the entire room. Alpha Victoria Blackwood. Gideon's mother. One of the most powerful wolves in the region. The Blackwood name carried weight everywhere, and everyone knew it. Her eyes locked onto mine, and she smiled. But it wasn't warm. It was the smile of a predator who'd just

he said quietly. She obeyed. Lady Evelyn Blackwood, 1823 to 1846. The letters had been cut with a careful hand. She moved to the next. Isabelle Blackwood, 1865 to 1887. Then Margaret Ainsley Blackwood, 1890 to 1912. The rhythm of the dates chilled her. Each life had ended early, as if an unseen hand had closed a book that still held blank pages.

“If you say yes, you don’t do it blind. You read everything, document everything, and if you say no, you come to me-.” “I won’t.” “You say that now.” She hesitated, then added quietly, “He has an assistant. Rowan Cole. If anyone knows how Blackwood really operates, it’s him.” I looked up. “You know his assistant?” “Know of him,” she corrected. “He’s survived longer than anyone else. That alone makes him interesting.” She smiled faintly, something curious flickering in her eyes. " I heard he's hot too", She smirked “And dangerous in his own way.”

Swart, eyes pleading with him to laugh it off, and take me to the right room. This couldn’t be happening. “Mrs. Connolley, I can assure you that there is no prank happening,” Dr. Swart offered a tense smile. “This is the donor whose sperm was used in your egg. It appears that the two of you know one another?” “Loosely,” I mutter. Azure smirks, “Very loosely.” “Shut it,” I snarled, making him let out a chuckle. Azure Blackwood was your typical man of power. He flaunted himself with fancy cars, did numerous interviews over the years bragging about his accomplishments, and had every woman in the state of Oregon drooling over his perfect face and body.

"Welcome, child. I am Arianna Blackwood, Ryder's mother, and the matriarch of this family." Arianna Blackwood stood before Emilia, exuding a quiet strength that belied her age. Her silver hair cascaded gracefully around her shoulders, framing a face weathered by wisdom and experience. Her eyes, a striking shade of steel-blue, held a depth that seemed to unravel the secrets of time itself.

(Olivia's POV) I stepped out of Rosewood Haven with Connor Blackthorn trailing behind me. The confrontation with Ethan and Victoria had left me drained but satisfied. For once, I'd managed to outmaneuver Victoria at her own game. Lucas Blackwood stood waiting at the entrance, his powerful frame alert despite his casual stance. His gray eyes immediately found mine, sweeping over me with barely concealed concern. "Are you alright?" he asked, his deep voice low enough that only I could hear.

My heart was beating so fast I was sure they could hear it over the low thrum of music. "Gentlemen," Lorenzo began, his voice carrying that smooth authority that made people listen whether they wanted to or not. "I'd like you to meet Ellie Knight." He paused, and I felt his eyes on me even though I was staring at my hands folded in my lap. "She's officially a Black Rose now, under our protection." The words settled over the table like a heavy blanket. I didn't know what being a Black Rose meant, but from the way the three strangers straightened in their seats, it was clearly something significant. Something that changed how they looked at me.

“Your life? What life is that? A cash-strapped nurse-in-training, fetching toast for old ladies, while I build an empire? You insult me, Aurora.” Aurora swallowed. “I don’t insult you. I only refuse to be part of your schemes.” Madame Blackwood circled her, as one might circle prey. “You think my life is a scheme? Everything I have, I built with my own… how shall I say, seductive skills.” She flicked her wrist, mimicking a toss. “I used my charm, my looks, my connections. Now I have this.” She swept her arms wide at the boutique. “And what do you have? A broken heart and a self-righteous attitude?”

My heels clicked against black marble as I stepped inside, the sound echoing back at me like a warning. “Miss Voss.” The voice came from the shadows to my left, low and velvet-rough. “You’re early.” I turned, clutching my small clutch like a shield. He leaned against the doorway in a perfectly tailored black shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms, revealing ink and muscle. Damien Blackwood. Forty-two, according to the sparse information I’d found. Billionaire. Recluse. Owner of half the city’s secrets and, apparently, this entire building hidden behind an unassuming downtown façade.