Victor Blackwell Net Worth Novels & Stories

And as soon as he left without another word, I picked up my phone and left the hotel. No looking back; no hesitation. I’d find another way to pay mom’s bills, not pretending to be a fiancée to my ex-husband’s brother. As I arrived at my apartment and lay on the bed that night, the thoughts flooded me again. The offer was quite mouth-watering, no doubt. I brought out my cell phone and searched for the owner of Blackwood Inc. It didn’t take long before information about him on X and G****e came up. Xavier Blackwood, ruthless self-made billionaire who, not surprisingly, is also a playboy- as depicted by the tabloids.

Victor Black didn't punish you immediately, instead he stored it away, built a mechanism, waited until you forgot you had enemies and then sent something in from the blind side. I had built my life accordingly. I stayed mobile, I stayed quiet, I stayed useful enough to people who could be useful back. I had not, in years, done anything that would require Victor Black to activate whatever he'd set in motion when he sent me away. But Caleb had. Caleb had dismantled Victor's estate gradually — the restructuring, the board changes, the quiet removal of his father's loyalists from the company over the last few years. And whoever Victor had pre-arranged, whoever held the old instructions in a draw

[ AVA'S POS ] “First, I need your cock in my throat while we plan.” She slid down the bed, taking me deep immediately. Her throat constricted around me as she bobbed, gagging beautifully, tears streaming down her face. I fucked her mouth hard, holding her head in place while we talked between thrusts. “The USBs show payments to Victor Blackwood. Father was laundering money through their rival company. But there’s more, Victoria was sleeping with Victor’s brother before the ‘accident.’”

But enough. --- Which meant Victor's influence over Vanessa was becoming exposed. --- Good. --- Because once trust began breaking... Relationships followed. --- Meanwhile... Across the city... Someone else was making discoveries. --- Adrian Blackwell. --- Of course, I didn't know exactly what he was doing. Not yet. --- But elsewhere, inside Blackwell Holdings, he was reviewing confidential reports. Reports connected to Ethan Cross. --- And for the first time... A direct connection appeared. --- A financial transfer.

"I'm working hard to pay off my debt, sir." "Your debt." Victor laughed, but the sound held no warmth. "Do you know what's funny about your debt, Marcus?" "No, sir." "Your ex-wife is worth thirty million dollars now. Thirty million! While you're selling drugs on street corners for pocket change." The words hit me like a physical blow. Thirty million dollars. Elena had thirty million dollars while I slept on a moldy mattress and begged Victor's men for enough food to stay alive. Isabella and Sophia looked up from their own corners of the warehouse, listening to Victor's taunts with grim expressions.

Victor and I never discussed his finances, but one hundred million dollars is a lot of money, especially with his father pressuring him at Gunner Holdings, Inc. Samuel said Victor recently bought shares from a trusted investor, spending millions. Now, this. “One hundred fifty million dollars!” Victor’s voice rang out. I fidgeted, wanting to declare Victor the winner, but it would be unfair to others. I was willing for Jeremy to stop bidding and allow Victor to win, but he seemed to develop a penchant for annoying Victor. Since they met, Jeremy kept needling Victor. But I also could not blame Jeremy. Victor was rude first.

She could hear Marcus and Victor in the kitchen, their voices low but excited. “You think he’ll pay?” Marcus asked, the greed thick in his tone. Victor laughed, a wet, ugly sound. “Of course he’ll pay. That rich prick thinks he owns her. He’ll empty his accounts if we threaten to put a bullet in her pretty little head. We start at ten million. Cash. Untraceable.” Marcus whistled. “Ten million? You think he’s got that kind of liquid?” “He’s got way more than that,” Victor replied. “I did my research. Blackwood’s got offshore shit, shell companies, the works. We squeeze him right and we walk away set for life. Then we disappear. Maybe head down south.”

But people negotiated better when they believed you had other options. He smiled, recognizing the move. She felt the first flicker of real interest. He wasn’t a fool. That made things either easier or more complicated and she wouldn’t know which for a few more minutes. “Xavier Blackwell,” he said. She kept her face neutral. Xavier Blackwell. Thirty-three years old. Worth somewhere north of four billion depending on the quarter. The kind of man whose name appeared in financial news the way other people’s names appeared in weather reports. Regularly, with significant implications for how the day would go.

I scrolled and scrolled. His net worth, according to Forbes, was fourteen point seven billion dollars. Billion. With a B. He was the founder of Blackwood Technologies. A company I had been hearing about for seven years. Because Tristan worked there. Tristan had been a marketing director at Blackwood for three years. Tristan had once spent an entire dinner party explaining to my mother who did not care what an honor it was to be in the orbit of someone like Damien. Damien. Like he knew him. He didn't.

He’d already done his homework — or maybe he was just that powerful. “My name,” he said at last, offering his hand, “is Adrian Blackwell.” The name hit her like thunder. Even Elena, who rarely read business news, knew who he was — the billionaire CEO the media called The Devil in a Suit. A man who built an empire from nothing, who crushed competitors with a single phone call, whose icy demeanor sent grown men trembling. Her pulse spiked, but she kept her voice even. “Fine. So what do you say, Mr. Blackwell?”