Davos Blackwood Novels & Stories

The man asked the wounded man on the ground who responded by shaking his head negatively. "Shit" don't tell me..." The man hesitated "Black Moon?" He took it, didn't he? He asked as his eyes widened. "Argh," The man ran his hand in his hair frustratedly as he massaged his temples, pacing around Dave with anger. Dave moved slowly towards his feet and held it. Making signs for him to be saved. "You don't want to die? The man scoffed

Blackwood. TBC!!

“Interpol’s got Davos in a maximum-security prison. No trial yet, but they’re keeping him locked up tight.” Ayesha nodded. “Good. But we know men like him don’t stay buried forever.” Priya looked up from her laptop. “Speaking of buried… Davos had a contingency plan.” The room went silent. Adrian groaned. “Of course he did.” The Unfinished Business Priya turned her screen around. “Meet Viktor Sokolov.” A picture of a ruthless-looking Russian oligarch appeared on the screen. Leena raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess—Davos’ backup plan?”

Which have aided them in their money laundering. Mr. Edward Blackwood, the current head of the family, was married to Violet Blackwood née Conner. Their marriage was not initially founded on love. When the Conner family found themselves in significant debt, the Blackwoods lent them a helping hand, leading to the arrangement of Violet's marriage to the Blackwood's eldest son. Edward and Violet Blackwood had three children who stood to inherit their father’s legacy: two sons and one daughter. The eldest son, Sebastian Blackwood, was the golden boy of the family, the one everyone cherished. He maintained a spotless reputation, never getting his hands dirty as he delegated difficult tasks to oth

Ava smirked. “She checked into a hotel,” Damon said. “She’s alone.” Ava grinned. “Perfect.” Damon’s gaze flickered with curiosity. “You really think she’s not going back to him?” Ava chuckled. “Oh, she’ll try.” She leaned back against the cushions, her expression dripping with satisfaction. “But Adrian Blackwood doesn’t let things slip through his fingers.” She tilted her glass in Damon’s direction. “He’ll chase her.” Damon smirked. “And when he does?”

"You really think you're the first to dangle a shiny leash and talk about needs?" Timothy's voice cut through the room like a serrated blade. He leaned back against the cold mahogany of the bedpost, his fingers digging into the duvet. Gideon Blackwell moved into his space, his bulk blotting out the light from the hallway. Those gold eyes, rimmed with the dark legacy of the Blackwell line, didn't blink. "You’ve never had a real high, Timothy. Not the kind that makes you forget your own name. Don't you want to know what it’s like to actually lose control?"

He’d only said, “Don’t embarrass me tonight.” But someone else was looking. Damien Blackwood. The CEO of Blackwood Enterprises — and my husband’s boss — stood across the room like he owned the entire world. At 38, he was tall, broad-shouldered, and dangerously handsome in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo. His dark hair was styled back, and his sharp jaw was shadowed with just the right amount of stubble. But it was his eyes that trapped me — deep, piercing black that seemed to see straight through my expensive dress.

Kieran tracked a waiter crossing in front of exit two for the third time — nothing, just someone doing their job — and moved his eyes back to the main entrance. That's when Damien Blackwood walked in. Kieran had read the file. Sixty-one, silver-haired, alpha, CEO of Blackwood Industries for twenty-two years and before that his father's right hand for ten years before that. The photos hadn't quite caught the way he actually took up space — not physically, he was tall but not unusual, it was something else, the practiced certainty of a man who'd spent six decades being told the world was arranged for his convenience and had come to believe it on a cellular level.