Housemates With The Blackridge Heirs Novels & Stories

He pulled out his phone and dialed Grey. "Get the penthouse ready. I’m coming over tonight with my son and my wife." He stopped, the word wife hanging in the air like a confession. There was a beat of silence on the other end. "Someone can't seem to call her an 'ex-wife,' can they?" Grey’s voice was dry as bone. "Shut up, Grey. Just have everything ready." Roderick hung up. --- The black SUV pulled up to the private entrance of the King Heights building. Roderick stepped out, carrying a sleepy but incredibly bubbly Adrian, who was now dressed in dinosaur pajamas. Camille followed, clutching a small overnight bag.

“Rowan, the trust, the property transfer, and whether there’s any connection to Moretti, Jamesson, or anyone else with too much money and not enough hobbies.” “Don’t get too aggressive.” “Me?” “You once made a title officer cry.” “He deserved it.” “He misspelled my name.” “Exactly.” I looked at the notice again. Rowan Blackwood. Belladonna Coastal Trust. A pretty name for something that might be poisonous. Very subtle. Very California with a gothic budget. “I have to go,” I said. “Max could wake up any minute and start another basket-tent revolution.” “Don’t send Rafael anything.”

"Did you say something stupid to him outside?" "I tripped on the stairs, and I bumped into him," I argued. "He shoved me backward and cursed at me. I did not even know who he was until he told me his name." Vanessa shook my arm. "You need to watch your step. Ryder is the heir to the Blackwood empire. He practically runs this family while Damien handles the corporate business." "I do not care who he is," I shot back. "He has no right to put his hands on me."

he replied just as smoothly. "Blackridge asset?" I asked through the bond. "Blackridge trained." he corrected. "Not owned. Worse." My stomach went cold. "Men like that weren’t bought. They were convinced." Across the room, Katarina Weiss tilted her head - an almost imperceptible signal. She was being watched too. "Well. We’d match notes." Rowan stepped in closer, glass raised. “We’re drawing attention.” “I know.” I said. “Let them look.”

And he was there. Vance. The heir of Blackwood family. His rich and cold aura had send the two men away from me. He stood there in that expensive suit, grey eyes flat as winter. The same man who'd nodded at me this morning. The same man whose wife had just destroyed my marriage.

I wasn’t. All I have is this house, and I’m not losing it. The moment I hit my bedroom, my phone buzzes. Partner in crime: She didn’t go to the company today. She went to Blackwood Realty. She’s still with them. Looking at a house in Brentwood. My stomach tightens. A house in Brentwood? Is that one of the family properties? Me: Who is she with? Them: Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood. I scoff. She’s moving in already. Taking over already.

Did he not see that a single night's extravagance could have eased his own daughter's pain? I still couldn't stop myself from asking the security guard nearby, "Who is that?" He looked at me like I was stupid. "You don't know? That's the Blackwood family's only heir. Old-money real estate." I trailed them to a gleaming shopping mall, then slipped into a boutique glittering with luxury. I watched Charlotte select handbag after handbag, each worth a fortune. Nathan waved away the price tags, buying them all with a careless flick of his hand.

What was a werewolf doing with something like that? She moaned greatly in pain, I gulped hard, finally rising from her bedside to go get some help. As much as I wanted to keep it a secret, I couldn’t help myself and trudged down the stairs, went through the kitchen and to the back door—-the back guest house of the Blackwood mansion, home of the employees who kept the house in perfect shape. “Reagan…” I called out. A minute later, came out the housekeeper of the mansion, Reagan, a third generation healer who came from a line of service towards the Blackwoods.

He said, and I frowned at him. "She and her uncle, Elvis Barou, are the surviving heirs of the Whitehorn Bloodline. The Blackwood took over their legacy, and they want to take it back. It wasn’t supposed to be bloody, but they knew you were stubborn. They had been following your life for a while now,” He said, and I could see the tremor in his hands. He knew he was a dead man. It was best he spilt. "Please spare my mate and children. They have no hand in this..” he digressed, and I growled at him.

My pregnant wife, alone, in a city crawling with enemies, under my name and face plastered across headlines as a wanted murderer. And she left the house without backup. I opened my mouth to issue another command but— “Boss, we’re here,” Thaddeus murmured, slowing the car. We’d reached where it all started— Not just a grave. Not just a name carved in stone. But the very root of every Blackwood sin. The estate. The first Blackwood’s house. The true Blackwood estate. Thaddeus slowed the SUV to a stop just in front of the towering iron gates, rusted but still standing, like sentinels too proud to fall.