Ruin Me, Blackwood
Hallie Hartconstance blackwooddomineering billionaire’s maidwatching my mommy go black
Everything about her screamed money and control — from the flawless red manicure to the way she barely looked up from her computer screen.
“Mr. Blackwood will see you now,” she said, gesturing to the private elevator with a manicured finger.
Mr. Blackwood.
Not Dom. Not Dominic.
It was stupid, how the title sent a ripple of something sharp and breathless through me. I’d known Dominic Blackwood since I was seven years old. Back then, he was just Dom — my brother Nathan’s arrogant best friend who made it his life’s mission to torment me. He’d pulled my ponytails, teased me about my braces, called me “Shrimp” until I swore I’d push him in the pool.