Housemates With The Blackridge Heirs Novels & Stories

“I live directly below her house.” Noelle laughed. “Of course you do.” I raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?” “Of course Sasha somehow has Rowan Blackwood as a neighbor.” She looked at Rowan. “I didn’t even know people could randomly become your neighbor.” “Usually requires escrow,” Rowan said. I closed my eyes for a second. Noelle laughed again. “This is insane.” “Geography is pretty common,” I said. “Not for you.” Noelle pointed at me with the tip of her finger. “You have a project with Moretti Holdings, then you go home and find out your neighbor is the founder of Blackwood Systems. Who else lives on that street? The Prince of Monaco?”

"If he's staying, then have the housekeeper prepare another room for me too. I won't leave Neil under the same roof as someone this dangerous." "Hey, do you think my house is a hotel? You can't just demand rooms like that. Both of you, get out!" "I brought my things. I'm not leaving," Peter Black was resolute, and I couldn't let him have his way alone. "Bro, I don't need to bring anything. I'll use yours." "Damn it, a mob boss from the Black family and the head of Lucas Group, both so shameless. Fine, I'll be the bigger person. There's no room, only the couch. If you don't want the couch, then get out."

"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.”

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.

Setting aside Jessica, what did this mean for the woman who had become Steve's ex-wife? Rowan fell into a contemplative silence, her thoughts as tangled as an unraveled ball of yarn. Then, something struck her. "Wait..." she began, her voice laced with doubt. "James mentioned that his parents are still alive. How can an elder in their family have passed away three or four years ago?" David nodded, equally puzzled. "You're right. His parents are still alive. The person who passed away at that time was the elderly patriarch of their family. He left a substantial inheritance to his grandchildren, and it involved their family's equity, making the situation quite severe."