Novel & Cerita Sirius Black Aesthetic

And yet, there's an undeniable undercurrent of something between us, a sort of magnetic pull that's impossible to ignore. "Mr. Blackwood, we've gone through this a dozen times," I say, my patience wearing thin. "I really believe the modern aesthetic will work best for this space." He leans back in his chair, his arms crossed, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "And I've told you, Ava, I'm looking for something more classic and elegant." I grit my teeth, struggling to keep my frustration in check. "But, the modern design will complement the architecture and layout of the space. It'll give it a fresh and sophisticated feel."

His graying eyes and pitch-black raven hair stood out along with his tall and large physique. "Name it," Hades said, prepared for the young prince of death to ask for one of the powerful stones he possessed. "Memories," Sirius smirked at them. "I'm bloody tired and bored in coming here. I need something to entertain me." "Which memories," Hades asked. "The two of them," Sirius said. "Will you return them after?" Athena asked. "I might or I might not. Who knows." Sirius lazily combed his hair which annoyed Ayeesha and Hyun.

Just as dark as the outside the interior design was just as black. Geez is this man a CEO or part of the mafia? Seeing her panicked look Alec again could not help but smirk in amusement. Clearing his throat he tried to reassure her that she was in no danger. "Mr Acres has a liking towards dark colours. He finds them soothing and much easier to work with. Not to mention they go well with his style." Yes, maybe black, purple and red were his aesthetic or just the common style for mafia groups but ey, what do I know?

🔞 ♠️ #BLACK_ACE ♠️ 🔞 ♠️ Chapter 1 ♠️ #OMNISCIENT_POV HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! Cheerful sounds of laughter echoed inside the Xstacy club which is known to be one of the most exclusive and the most ᙭- rated clubs in Abuja.

“Rest. You’ll need your strength for the Blackmoor board meeting.” I watched the door click shut and immediately moved to my desk. I grabbed my charcoal pencils and my sketching tablet. My mind wasn't on pack wars or mating bonds—it was on the sharp lines of hockey jerseys and the branding of the Blackmoor Wolves. I sketched until my fingers went numb, pouring every ounce of the betrayal I felt into the aggressive, dark designs of the team’s new armor. The portfolio was finished within the week. I sent it to Apex Syndicate, the elite design firm that handled the visual identity of the Mafia-league hockey teams.

"Do not threaten me! We have a deal. I want my family’s company back, and I want to see Thea begging on her knees. You want Elias out of the chairman seat. We need each other." Sirius slowly raised his glass, taking another sip. He didn't flinch at her sudden outburst. He had studied Maya. He knew she was unstable, driven entirely by her hatred for her sister. To Sirius, she was a dangerous, volatile weapon but if used correctly, she was the perfect tool to destroy Elias once and for all. "Of course we do," Sirius murmured, his lips curling into a cold, fake smile. "Which is why we must be very precise. We cannot afford a single mistake."

He’d face the devil. Vane Tower loomed like a glass monolith, piercing New York’s skyline. Security ushered Aiden to the top floor, the elevator humming with quiet power. The office had vast steel beams, panoramic views of the city sprawl, and a desk like a throne. Silas waited behind it, impeccably suited, silver-streaked black hair combed back, muscular frame exuding lethal control. No blindfold, no darkness, just those unreadable blue eyes raking over Aiden like a possession. “Blackwood,” Silas said, voice smooth as silk over gravel. “Sit.”

“Good morning, Ms. Dawnson. Mr. Blackwood is waiting for you in his office.” Sebastian’s office was a reflection of the man himself: vast, minimalist, and commanding. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls offered a stunning, dominant view of the city, as if he owned everything the eye could see. The furniture was all dark chrome and black leather, expensive and uncompromising. There were no photos. No personal touches. Just power. He was standing by the window, his back to her, just as he had been on the first day. A deliberate power tactic.

The bright, red light rolls through the floor numbers at what feels like a snail's pace. “Obsession?” he snorted. “The only thing that I’ve ever been obsessed with is money. The word you’re looking for is curiosity. You see, Azure Blackwood is an enigma. I’ve heard plenty about him, and nothing at all. I’ve tried to dig into his past, hell, even the past of Finnick Gray, but it’s almost as if neither of them existed to the world before Blackwood Industries shot to the top. He refuses investors, turns down contracts that could make him millions, and yet,” he steps forward again, and my breath hitches. “He seems to have always been smitten with you.”