Novel & Cerita Nina Blackwood Photo

Her eyebrows were thick and arched with confidence, and her cheekbones were sharp enough to cut glass, yet her smile—when it came—softened her whole face. Her eyes were the kind that held too many stories and not enough time to tell them all, a deep shade of whisky brown with golden flecks that made them look almost... enchanted. But it was more than just beauty. Nina Blackwood had poise. Grace. That enviable quality where she could sit on a stiff leather chair in a corporate office, sip black coffee, and still feel like she was sipping red wine in a rooftop lounge somewhere in Paris. And yet, she wasn’t intimidating. At least not to me. Not anymore.

It looked more like an old image of them together in a conference or something. I couldn’t look away. The blog post’s headline was stamped in bold, all caps, blood red font: “ALEXANDER BLACKWOOD ACCUSED OF NADIA DOUGLAS BLACKWOOD’S MURDER? LEAKED PHOTOS SPARK RAGE ONLINE.”

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.

Instead, she found herself frozen on the spot. "Now," Marcus said, his voice a deadly whisper as he pointed the gun directly at her. "We’re going for a little drive. You’re going to do exactly as I say, or this will end very badly for you. Decide!" Nina's mind was screaming for her to do something but she knew she was trapped. Marcus had the upper hand, and she was alone. Without another word, she slowly nodded, as her body trembled with fear. She turned and walked towards the front door, feeling Marcus’s presence looming behind her like a dark shadow.

Undeniably real. A quiet knock interrupted her thoughts. “Come in,” she said, tugging the sheet around her body. It was Nina, one of the house staff. “Good morning, Miss Laurent. Mr. Blackwood asked me to bring you breakfast. He’s on a call, but he’ll be back shortly.” Isabella blinked. “Breakfast?” Nina smiled gently. “He insisted. Said you needed rest and coffee.” As the tray was set down, Isabella smiled faintly. Alexander Blackwood—the man who had once handed her an NDA with ice in his veins—was now sending her breakfast in bed?

“Files. Testimonies. Proof. Something that links me directly to Dexter Carter. Something she knew about, something she was building. She’s getting too close. Too damn close for comfort.” “She has allies now too, sir,” the fixer dared to add, sensing a shift from rage to strategic thought. “That journalist… Nina Vargas. Adrian Wells. And our intel suggests someone else is backing her. Someone with deep pockets and an extensive network of their own.” James’s head snapped around, his eyes narrowing to malevolent slits. A sneer twisted his lips, a mixture of recognition and pure venom. “Let me guess,” he said, the words laced with an almost palpable contempt. “Hunter Blackwood.”

Dad grabbed the nurse, throwing her out of the room alongside himself. "Well-done, Emily, you have accomplished your mission." A sinister scent emerged, a wicked laugh echoing across the room. The once blue sky was now a mixture of black and white with the moon reflecting its radiant image. Wails filled the air as a ray of light fell from the sky, hitting a mountain on the other side of town. I groaned, wincing as my hand was scorched by the flaming book. The pages settled, words in red appearing on the pages. "Strigoi, Nosferatu, Jiangshi…"

Attached was a photo of her cleavage, framed by a black bra and her silver necklace, barely hidden beneath her work shirt. A gasped escaped my lips as I realized what Nina was doing. Was she seducing me?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN 1 NAIN TRINITY LUTHERAN’S chapel was filled and Glee Deadmond had them in the palm of her hand. Studio lights on tripods illuminated her, while a camera operator kept her in frame, directed by a second man in a white short-sleeve shirt and tie. There was a hanging backdrop of crushed muslin with the words THE GLEE CLUB—WE ARE UNANIMOUS IN THIS! emblazoned in gold, and Glee wore a wireless mic clipped to her lapel so she could move about unencumbered before it.

I stand, and walk over to the drawer, pulling it open, I pick up the black card. Knox Blackwood. An address. His contact. That's it. I stare at it a little longer, my heart racing fast. He wants me… it's just sex, Naya. My inner mind taunts me. A night with him, and he'll let Kelvin go. Our paths won't cross. I forbid our paths to cross again. I pick my phone and dial Snow, my best friend. It rings. “Hey, Naya. What's up.” “I'm ready,” I blurt out, my heart plummetting. “I'll do it,”