Novel & Cerita Nina Blackwood Photo

“Blackwood Global controls half the industries this family touches. Do you understand what that debt has cost us in leverage for thirty years? Richard Blackwood is offering to erase it. All you have to do is sign.” “All I have to do.” I picked up the folder despite myself, because some numb, obedient part of me still hadn’t learned to say no to them. My fingers found the first page. Damian Blackwood’s name sat there in dense black print, cold and unfamiliar, a man I’d only ever seen in tabloid photographs, always in shadow, always described in the same three words. *Cold. Ruthless. Untouchable.* “They say he’s never even been photographed smiling,” I said quietly.

The person who posted the photos claimed to be one of the men involved: "You have no idea how perverted Catherine Blackwood really is, or what kind of sick videos she watches in her spare time. She actually contacted us through underground channels, wanting us to dress up as homeless men and meet her at the garbage dump for her twisted fantasies." My vision blurred with rage and humiliation. "One man wasn't enough for this freak—she insisted on several of us at once. Look at these photos! Everyone can see how much she enjoyed every second of it, right?" I wanted to throw my phone across the room, but I forced myself to keep reading.

"Is everyone in this family horrible?" "Not everyone." She pulled out another photo that made her expression tighten with something like disgust. "But some are worse than horrible." The woman in the photo was stunning. Maybe late forties, with perfectly styled blonde hair, flawless skin, and the kind of beauty that looked expensive to maintain. But her eyes were empty. Cold in a way that had nothing to do with calculation and everything to do with cruelty. "Isabella Blackwood. Vincent's wife. Damien and Marcus's mother." I stared at the photo. "Vincent is married?"

"There is no 'we.' There is only the Phoenix. And Lucian? Don't bother showing up tonight to save your reputation. You don't have one left." She hung up and looked at her reflection. The woman in the mirror wasn't the "Invisible Mrs. Blackwood." She was a titan. "Marcus," she called out. "Yes, Ma’am?" "Release the documents regarding Cynthia’s London fraud to the press at exactly 9:00 PM tonight. Right when the red carpet reaches its peak." "And Mr. Blackwood?" "Let him enter the room first," Maya said, a predatory glint in her eyes. "I want him to feel the eyes of the city on him when he realizes he’s walking into his own funeral."

"You killed her." Her eyes went wide. She didn't deny it. She just pulled me deeper, her nails carving red furrows down my back. "She deserved it. She was going to sell us both." I came with a shout that felt like a curse. I collapsed on top of her, the weight of the lie pressing us into the bed. We lay there, tangled and wet, our breath coming in ragged stabs. The locks on the door groaned. Marcus Blackwood walked in. He wasn't wearing a suit. He was in a leather jacket, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He looked at the cameras, then at us. He smiled. It was a shark’s grin.

But seeing how Nina plunges into the seat in front of me unbothered due to her black fitted off-shoulder mini dress, has me feeling a bit jealous. She crosses her legs, showing off her black high heels with a slingback decorated with little diamonds. Passing me the cigarette package, she lights her cigarette and passes me the lighter too. Nina is wearing a black mask with silver embellishments, matching her blingy shoes. Her copper-blond hair is tied up into a loose bun while I chose to wear my hair open and straightened.

She had always thought her name commanded respect—fear even—but Elara’s indifference crushed that belief when she raised her brows. “So?” Elara questioned. “What!” Nina’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t believe what was happening. She had faced nothing but disrespect here. Her mother wasn’t lying when she described Damian’s arrogant wife. She was everything her mother had said—proud, disrespectful, and insufferable. “I’m Nina. Nina Blackwood.” Everyone gasped. Anita trembled horribly now. She hadn’t known who Nina was; if she had, she wouldn’t have asked who she was looking for.

I looked down the hallway and through the other side, and there was actually no one in sight. My heart hammered as I approached the large double office doors with D. BLACKWOOD engraved on the metal plate. I forced my trembling hand to knock. No answer. Great. I knocked again. Still nothing. Screw it. I pushed the door open— —and froze in place. Damian Blackwood sat behind his massive black desk. Sharp suit. Cuffed sleeves. Jaw tight enough to crack a diamond. He didn’t look up at me. Not even a glance. I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off by his deep voice.

I asked. I was being careful with my words. I didn’t want him to find out that Nath and I were no longer together so he could tell me who he was who referred me and when exactly. I saw him waving his hands in the air, he checked his from left to right like he was denying an accusation. “How will I say that? It's just so surprising that Mr. Blackwood would go for a woman who is very calm and career-focused. There is no need to include beauty because I was certain he wouldn’t settle for someone who is not beautiful at all.”

Caren’s POV I don’t know how I ended up in Blackwood. Deana has been in charge for a while. When she finally allows me to take over our body again. I find myself looking at the entrance to a road. The sign read ‘Blackwood Farm.’ I take a few seconds to remember where I have heard the name before. This was Nix’s home before he went to the Mountain Creek Pack. Someone probably lives here already. “Someone does live here. Can you not smell it?” Deana tells me. I take a big whiff and I know what she is sensing; a wolf’s scent. I don’t feel too embarrassed now that I am naked standing on the porch of the farmhouse.