Nina Blackwood Photo นิยาย & เรื่องราว

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.”

It has brought me nothing but pain and misery. She found a mounted map at a diner and was looking at it. The name of the place seemed to be illuminated. ‘Blackwood’ Nix has talked about the home he grew up on ‘Blackwood farm’ several times to me over the last few months. The picture of his mom had a clear picture of his home. “There. I know somewhere there we can stay.” I tell Quinn and she blocks me out again. I want to be annoyed at her about being frequently blocked out. But really, I am grateful for it. Before she blocks me out again, Quinn tells me, “I will look after you, my human. We are one.”

This was impossible. " Take it away," I have pushed the phone across my desk, forcing Martha to grab it before it crashed on the floor. " Now leave." Martha offered me a slight nod and turned around. Before she left, she looked over her shoulder. " I would never expect Miss Roberts to work with Mr Blackwood." I have raised my head immediately. " What did you say?" Martha looked at me, shocked. " This photo was posted by Nathan Blackwood."

“Such a beautiful sight I can rest easy now and enjoy my grave.” “You’re not dying anytime soon, sir,” the secretary muttered. “Oh, hush,” Mr. Blackwood said with a wave of his hand. “Someone get a picture.” A phone was passed forward as the flash went off once then again. “Let them sleep,” Mr. Blackwood said finally. “We shouldn’t disturb them.”he said, And after a while the door closed softly behind them. The moment the sound settled, Irene bolted upright, scrambling away like she’d been burned.

Stephanie knocked and stepped in, her hair neatly tied back in a neat bun, with a folder tucked under her arm. “Sorry for keeping you waiting,” she said. Jace gave a short nod. “No problem, sit.” She did, placing the folder on the table in front of her. “I have a plan to take down Blackwood,” Jace said, looking between the two of them. “But it’s going to take all the help we can get.” Meanwhile, in the woods; The midday sun sprayed golden warmth through the tree branches. Eliana and Peter lay on the grass beside the remnants of their snack wrappings.

Speaking of Nicole, I picked up my phone from the table, opened it, and quickly typed in the search bar ‘Theodore Blackwood. His images and accomplishments instantly popped up. I scrolled through every picture and news article, trying to find out if he had a missing daughter who turned out to be Nicole, but found nothing. The only information I could find was that he was married to Hannah Blackwood, whose picture wasn’t shown. Even after searching her name, there were no photos, just details about her successful career and numerous accomplishments. This felt hopeless; it wasn’t going to help me figure out Nicole’s relationship with both of them.

Through the tiny glass panel on the door, Evelyn watched everything. Her hands were clasped tightly to her chest as she observed her son—calm, sharp, composed, despite the fire burning underneath. He looked like a man carrying the weight of two families. Her heart squeezed painfully. She had left to protect him… but he had still endured more than she ever imagined. Inside the room, Rina cleared her throat softly. Her voice gentled. “Mr. Blackwood,” she asked, “did you ever knowingly work with Zurich?” “No.” It wasn’t just an answer. It was instinctive—instant.

Photographs of the Blackwood Estate covered nearly every inch satellite images, street-view captures, photos pulled from society pages showing glimpses of the grounds during rare charity events. Red string connected various points, mapping out security camera placements, entrance points, guard rotation schedules she'd extrapolated from observation patterns captured over the past two days of watching traffic on their private road via traffic cameras she'd hacked. In the center of it all was a collection of photographs: Damien Blackwood. Professional shots from business magazines Forbes, Fortune, Bloomberg Businessweek. Him in perfectly tailored suits, leaning against desks or standing in fron