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THE OLD MAN'S FORSIGHT
Last Updated:
2025-04-05 16:54:21
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DAMIAN BLACKWOOD The days after his death passed in a blur. The only clear thing to me in all that time was Eleanor, who I started to see even more frequently as we were thrown together by our shared love for my grandfather. I was not always in the house, but whenever I visited, I continued to be drawn towards her by how affected she was by his death, so much so that she had practically become a wreck.Once, she had admitted to me that she could not stop thinking about how fast it had happened. He was going up the stairs to sleep in one moment, had crashed down in another, was in the hospital before she could blink, and now he was dead. She called it the fastest three days she had ever lived through, and I thought it was no lie. To me, it seemed as though all of it had happened in three hours, not three days.It was the day that made it a week after his death that caused me to go to the house. I had come to expect to see Eleanor's angelic face and to be as struck by it as the first
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DAMIAN BLACKWOOD I returned to my home only once the week after that.That night, I painstakingly realized how drawn to Eleanor I had become, and how I felt by just being around her. It was a long night I could barely endure, and one that filled me with relief when the rays of sun touched my eyes. After that, I returned to my grandfather's house every night, where I found peace in the silence, the dogs, and above all, the woman.I was there again on this particular night when I found her cooking a large meal. The kitchen smelled of broth and garlic as Eleanor moved with a quiet grace that was only interrupted by the tone she hummed while her hands chopped some greens on a board and a pot blew off steam on the stove. She did not hear me come in, and would not have known of my presence had she not turned and caught me all of a sudden, screaming in fright for it. I stood still, my hands folded as she held a hand to her chest, taking in deep breaths.“You scared me.” She whispered, whil
Last Updated : 2025-04-06Scarred Roses, Burning Vengeance DESIRE
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD I moved even closer to her, and her breath paused.There was a flicker of surprise in her eyes, before that disappeared and something warmer followed it, a thing that filled my chest with a sensation I thought strange. She didn’t move away now, but stood so close to me that the whole house suddenly felt smaller, and the space between us seemed to pull us even closer together, drawing us nearer to each other.I looked at her and caught a loose strand of hair across her eye. It was like a crack on some beautiful wall, or a random scribble across a painting by some unskilled artist who impeded the original work. She also turned to say something to me, and caught me staring at her.“Damian…” she began…Her voice faded off so that her lips hung open, and I found myself insanely wanting to kiss her. Something in my gut held me back, and I only lifted a curled finger and brushed that strand of hair from her face. Her skin was warm against the skin of my own fingers, and I l
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DAMIAN BLACKWOOD Sex was nothing new to me.I had done it a thousand times and with hundreds of women. Some wanted favours. Others lied about loving me. Others simply wanted me for being Damian Blackwood. I served them all and put them behind me, refusing to pay them any more attention than I would have a mannequin standing in the street after. Only a few had even got a second chance with me. But Eleanor…She was different. Lying there before me, open and willing out of pure desire, I thought she was different from all those women. Something far purer and divine. Sometimes, you find yourself so taken by the beauty of something that you lose yourself staring at it, and that was Eleanor's nakedness to me. I leaned back and watched, taking all I saw in with a sort of euphoria. The view of her expectant body lying across the bed had an effect on me, a once in a lifetime experience. Her white skin and the pink that showed elsewhere was almost ethereal in the moonlight coming through the
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DAMIAN BLACKWOOD I wasn't thinking about a lot then, but I thought she was perfect.Picture perfect, heavenly perfect. The most perfect that any form of perfect could aspire to be. She was warm and soft and oozing with life from beneath me, with her legs tightening around my waist and pulling me even closer to her.“Damian… oh Damian…” she moaned, and her voice was comparable to the sweetest of sounds. It was breathless and desperate, the harmony of the most sonorous choirs and the songs of the sweetest birds. It was the sole reason why I didn’t need to be told twice, and drew back until I was almost all the way out of her before pushing back into her with a force that slammed both our bodies and made her cry out in pleasure, her body bouncing about in the bed. The sound of her pleasure drove me to near madness, and I continued to a rhythm that was a dance for the both of us—slowing down until it was gentle for the first steps before becoming more deliberate. Her hips rose to meet m
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ELEANOR SINCLAIR Six months later, Damian and I were married.The six months after that? Blissful heaven.Within a year I had gone from Eleanor Sinclair to Eleanor Blackwood, from Miss to Mrs, from unmarried to happily married, from poor to rich. I could swear that I now had all I could have ever dreamed of, but as everything turned positive for me, it went the other way around for Damian.I continued to live in Grandfather's house and as the housemaid, taking care of the place. At times, Damian would come to me there and the other times, I would go to him. Whatever it was, we spent all our nights together. It was our one rule—never going to bed without one of us seeing the other. I kept to this rule of ours faithfully, and so did he. Until the night my husband came to me and felt eerily like the old Damian Blackwood.The grumpy, unfeeling Damian. His face was turned up in a scowl that only lessened when he saw me, and I thought I could wipe it off completely. So I attended to my ma
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ELEANOR SINCLAIR That moment was a disappointing one for me. I called the man he wanted me to call, and he soon appeared within minutes. I watched my husband give orders to the men who came with the one I called, and watched as they rushed to do them with a dutifulness that made them almost robotic. From inside the house, the dogs were barking, and the whole place had almost become a bedlam of noise.“John, Davis, both of you take him to the warehouse. I'll soon be there with you.”“Romeo, Julius. Both of you stay and watch my wife. Not a scratch must come to her.”“Tim… go get everything ready.”“Ellie,” he huffed, turning towards me as I stood still, watching everything before my eyes. His shoulders slumped a little bit as he looked at me, and he came towards me and to where I stood. “Romeo and Julius will be watching over you. They are my good men, and will not harm you. You will not even know that they are there, and you will be safe with them.”His voice was low in his throat,
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ELEANOR SINCLAIR Six months later, Damian and I were married.The six months after that? Blissful heaven.Within a year I had gone from Eleanor Sinclair to Eleanor Blackwood, from Miss to Mrs, from unmarried to happily married, from poor to rich. I could swear that I now had all I could have ever dreamed of, but as everything turned positive for me, it went the other way around for Damian.I continued to live in Grandfather's house and as the housemaid, taking care of the place. At times, Damian would come to me there and the other times, I would go to him. Whatever it was, we spent all our nights together. It was our one rule—never going to bed without one of us seeing the other. I kept to this rule of ours faithfully, and so did he. Until the night my husband came to me and felt eerily like the old Damian Blackwood.The grumpy, unfeeling Damian. His face was turned up in a scowl that only lessened when he saw me, and I thought I could wipe it off completely. So I attended to my ma
