Novel & Cerita Evelyn Blackwood

Her dark eyes were fixed on the podium with the cold, unyielding precision of an artillery shell. And flanking her, dressed in a dark tactical wool greatcoat with the silver wolf insignia blazing on his collar, was Damon Blackwood. His hands were clasped behind his back, his scarred jaw set in a line of absolute judgment. Alexander Vance rose slowly from his seat, his eyes widening. "Lyra...?" Evelyn gripped the marble lectern, her face turning the color of skim milk. "Lyra! Darling! You... you've returned! We were just speaking of your well-deserved rest—"

But no matter how far she walked, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Hunter Blackwood would always be right behind her. Waiting. Watching. Evelyn spent the rest of the morning outside in the garden with Grandma Blackwood, helping her trim roses and water the vegetable beds. It was peaceful, a welcome distraction from the man inside the house who made her blood boil. But she wasn’t naive enough to think she could avoid him forever. By the time the afternoon sun had settled high in the sky, Evelyn decided she’d had enough. She wiped her hands on a towel, turning to Grandma Blackwood with a soft smile.

Still trembling, "Shaun! Why do you relish inflicting me with pain? Let me go! Than to return to you and Lucy's pain and suffering, I'd rather die in these woods. "I want to be free. You've already decided against choosing me as your mate. Allow me to be, Shaun". I made a valiant effort to release my hand from his grasp, but he persisted.… suddenly! The shrub made a noise. The recently passing object, shook the arid leaves. A wild animal I presume,..Shaun's focus returned to it. As a result of his diversion to see what it was, I took my hand away from his in a hurry. and begin to run... "Hold on, Evelyn! You won't be able to elude me once more. He yelled.

Reed followed. Evelyn gathered her things with trembling hands. And then she saw him. Through the glass door, Gregory Blackwood stood waiting. Watching. The older man she’d seen at the Charity Event before. His eyes met hers, a knowing gleam in them. He gave the smallest nod, like she was already his pawn. A chill rippled through her. Damian walked out into the hallway, Reed muttering something about contracts, his father murmuring satisfaction. He ignored them. Because Evelyn Carter’s eyes followed him, even after the door shut.

Evelyn said. ‎ ‎Alex smiled at her warmly, as he nodded. "Please wait for me in my office, Ms. Martins." ‎ ‎Evelyn nodded, turned to face Andrea and Chris, and flashed them a smug smirk before walking away. ‎ ‎Chris clenched his fist, while Andrea's face burned with fury. ‎ ‎How the hell did someone lowly as Evelyn know Mr. Blackwood?— Andrea thought, balling her hand into a fist. ‎ ‎She was the one who deserved Alex's gentle gaze, and not Evelyn.

Evelyn watched him go, a cold thread of unease winding through her chest. That night, back at the inn, Evelyn sat at the small desk by the window, reviewing her notes. The lamplight flickered slightly, the bulb humming as though straining against old wiring. Her recorder lay beside the notepad, filled with clinical observations she trusted far more than Jonah Blackwood’s cryptic warnings. Still, her mind wouldn’t settle. The claw marks. The crushed bones. Jonah’s words: wolves don’t attack people in Black Hollow. She rubbed her temples, fatigue heavy in her bones. Outside, the night pressed close against the glass. The curtains stirred faintly in the draft she still hadn’t located.

He pinned both of my hands above my head with one hand, while the other gripped my jaw violently. "Stop the act, Elaine!" he growled, his voice hoarse with rage. "I know it’s you! I know your heartbeat; I know the terror in your eyes. How much did you give my Daddy for him to be willing to make me his enemy for a slut like you?" "My name is Elara Vane, Mr. Blackwood. And your hands... they are currently digging your own grave," I snapped, trying to remain calm despite my racing pulse.

"Julian doesn't have the override for the north wing. Only one person does." The elevator doors chimed and slid open. Standing inside, wrapped in a dark velvet robe that looked like a shadow, was Evelyn Blackwood. Her eyes were sharp, her expression devoid of the practiced warmth she usually wore for the cameras. She looked at Dante, then at Bella, her gaze lingering on the tablet Bella was still holding.

The red glow reflected in their eyes—familiar, dangerous, and horrifyingly personal. No… it can’t be. “Surprised to see me?” The voice was smooth, melodic, and cruelly familiar. Lila’s chest tightened. Recognition slammed into her. The figure pulled back the hood—and her mind shattered for a second. It was Evelyn Blackwood. Her childhood friend, mentor in secret schemes, and someone Lila had thought long dead. Evelyn’s eyes held the same cunning brilliance she had as a teenager—but now sharpened by years of survival and manipulation. Her lips curved in a smirk that chilled Lila to the bone.

Evelyn walked the perimeter alone; even then, eyes followed, dissecting. Across the grand ballroom, she spotted him. Adrian Blackwood. The sight punched memory into colour…tailored midnight suit, crisp posture, eyes of burnished steel that once softened against her skin. His attention locked on her instantly, expression unreadable but alive. For two seconds, Manhattan ceased breathing. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Blackwood Enterprises had withdrawn its support from the Hartman Foundation weeks ago. Yet there he was…magnetic, haunted, the man who’d signed her divorce papers with elegant cruelty.