Novelas y relatos de Nina Blackwood Photo

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.

“So he’s grown a conscience. Ridiculous.” Nathan moved with purpose to his desk and hit a button on the intercom. “Get me Soren and Davis. Now.” Within seconds, two of his men appeared on the surveillance screens—waiting for orders. Nathan’s expression remained unreadable. “Tail Adrian Blackwood,” he commanded. “Quietly. I want him tracked every moment he leaves that house. Every direction he turns. Every person he meets.” “Yes, sir.” He switched to another line. “And bring me everything you can find on Lydia. Full file. I want to know who she is, who she lives with, who she talks to, and why she suddenly has my leverage in her arms.”

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

By the time I burst through the glass doors of the residential building, she was already fifty yards ahead of me, marching straight toward the central campus quad. The courtyard was packed with hundreds of students heading to their morning lectures. And right in the center of the main quad, leaning casually against a stone pillar, was Killian Blackwood. He was wearing his heavy leather motorcycle jacket, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he talked to Jason Jax. He looked entirely unaffected by the lack of sleep, his dark hair messy, his cold gaze scanning the passing crowds with complete detachment. "Blackwood!" Winter’s voice boomed across the space , cutting straight through the lo

“Could we get one photo with Mr. Voss?” I pointed to myself. “Me?” “Yes.” The photographer smiled. “You represent Blackwood Enterprises now, don’t you?” I hesitated. Before I could answer, another photographer chimed in. “Come on, just one.” “It’ll only take a second.” I looked toward Damien. He seemed just as reluctant. Victoria, however, was delighted. “Oh, that’s a wonderful idea.”

Nina Black A name once remembered with admiration, respect and love by the Black family and their pack. She was an ambitious woman who was witty and firm yet was loving, funny and the most gentle and sweet mother to her pups. Nina was a precious gem amongst worthless pebbles and she was cherished and respected greatly, even in the Council by the people in the Council. Now, when her name is even whispered the harsh, callous memories of her madness brought fear into the hearts of many, even the Elders’. It was one of the reasons why the Black family were so feared, even though they’re still cruel and merciless, it was Nina who stained their name with blood.

I took the file, opened it, and saw the name of this maid: Pyra Ruby Blackwood. It read. Picking up the photograph of Pyra Blackwood, I watched her portrait clearly. She was beautiful. With her mop of red hair cascading down her back, perfectly accentuating her delicate and soft face, framed by a high cheekbone. A smile was plastered on her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes; her dull crimson eyes lacked it, seemingly to hold a story of their own. Her skin was as pale, shimmering like fallen snow in the winter.

Because those were actually the realest escapes I could think of. “That’s ridiculous, Nina. Are they trying to kill me?” “Is that her? Is that Logan’s bitch daughter?” someone growled from the background, a male’s voice, and then Callum’s face appeared on the screen for a split second before Nina put down the phone. “Lord Blackwood! I’m just… It’s no one.” “I’ll talk to that bitch or I’ll go to New York myself to—” The call dropped. Damn it. I was literally fucked right now. I needed to see Adam.