Housemates With The Blackridge Heirs Novels & Stories

And of course I promised her I would. A middle-aged housekeeper named Mrs. Hargrove greeted me at the door and showed me around. The mansion was enormous , it had marble floors, expensive art peice on the walls, and so many rooms I knew I would get lost at first. My own quarters were small but clean, located on the third floor near the servants’ area. “You’ll mostly be tending to Mr. Blackwood’s personal needs,” Mrs. Hargrove explained. “Cleaning his study, preparing his evening tea, and keeping his private areas spotless. He values discretion and perfection.”

"The Swiss accounts?" "Processed," Killian said, his silver eyes flashing with a dark, terrifying triumph. "The St. Claire estate has been entirely dismantled. Your father’s personal mansion in the Hamptons is currently being registered under your name. You are a very wealthy woman tonight, Mrs. Blackwood." "I am a wealthy prisoner," I corrected, my gaze locking onto his.

he said more convincingly but Andrea couldn't take her chances. " Mine is rearer. Look, it's just that house over there with the black roof" she replied him and continued to clutch her novels tighter to her hands. " The black roofed house over there?" Dante repeated after her. "Yes, the black roofed house " she replied him. The black roofed house was the house of the owners of EMC Conglomerates. They were a very powerful and influential family in the streets and all over the country and now she meant to tell him that she had married into their family.

“You think you’re the only one who has to deal with this? This isn’t some dream come true. It’s a nightmare.” I stepped forward, leaning in close, lowering my voice even further, knowing I was pushing her to the edge. “You’re not going to trap me with a kid. I won’t let you. If you want this to end, you’ll take them.” Her breathing hitched, but she didn’t back down. “No,” she whispered, voice cracking with defiance. “I won’t do it. I want this baby, Nicole. I want us to be a family.” I sneered at her words. Family? This wasn’t a family. This was a prison.

“Because he is the head. Grandpa Blackwood’s will must be followed.” My lips curled into a cold smile. “Do you want to die in the Blackwood mansion, Zhou?” I asked quietly but loud enough to make my threat unmistakable. For the first time, he smirked. “Is that a threat?” His eyes hardened. “Raine… you should continue playing the role of the grieving widow of Blarke Blackwood. Don’t pretend innocence with meI see everything you do.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Stop being greedy. No matter what schemes you create… Aurora and Rylan will always remain the rightful heirs.”

Not the kind that made even the staff speak in whispers, as though the walls might hear. It had returned the moment the family saw the headline. **“Julian Lake and ‘Impostor Heiress’ Reunited in Midnight Encounter — Real Love or Calculated Power Play?”** The front page of the Tribune showed the two of them—Julian and Amelia—walking side by side out of a bar. He had his jacket over her shoulders. Her face was tired, bruised, but undeniably hers. Their body language wasn’t strategic. It was intimate.

After three months away, I was finally home. I asked the house's male housekeeper, Jacob Miller, to give me a hand carrying my luggage upstairs. Jacob hoisted the suitcase but had barely taken a few steps when—bang—the luggage crashed to the floor. He clutched his wrist, wincing in pain. The noise startled the three women on the sofa. They jumped up and rushed toward him, surrounding him with frantic questions, fussing as if he were about to shatter. They scrambled for ointment, massaging his wrist with careful fingers, treating him like fragile porcelain.

Nothing. She hurried downstairs, skipping steps, praying to see someone—anyone. When she reached the living room, her stomach twisted. The house was empty. Cars gone. Chairs pushed back in a hurry. Breakfast plates already cleared. Everyone… had left her. Her chest tightened. “No… they didn’t. They wouldn’t.” This was the first major presentation in the Brooks family since the announcement about choosing the next heiress. Her parents had repeated the instructions for weeks: Come early, look bold, show the board your strength.

“Name's Hank. This is my land. You're in Lycan territory now. Blackridge Pack. You keep your nose out of trouble and no trouble will come to you. Understood?” I nodded frantically, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. “Yes. Yes, sir. Thank you.” He started walking toward the house and after a hesitant second, I followed. “My wife, she passed last summer.” he said, his voice softer now. “Don't have any kids. Place is too quiet. You look like you could use a hot meal and a roof that don't leak. You can stay if you please but you'll have to pull your weight.” The relief that washed over me was so powerful my knees almost buckled.