DAMIAN BLACKWOOD At first, the world was mine. Then, and all of a sudden, it wasn't.It started with rumours of a plot against me, and from the ones I expected in the least, from the eldest of the three Black grandchildren Victor Black had left in my care when he died. I had allowed them to have the rights to their property piece by piece and as they advanced in age, and cared for them as I would have with my own siblings. Yet, the eldest of them, Wesley, had somehow nursed hatred and resentment for me all that time, even to the point of wanting to take me captive.Someone must have advised him against it, seeing that I would not be easily taken because I soon set a number of spies on him and the influx of information soon changed. He was no longer setting his eyes on me, deeming me too big for him to catch. Next, he set his sights on the one person he thought he could take to get at me. My wife, Eleanor.I prepared well for him, setting a few men to watch over Eleanor, and asking t
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD The more I thought about it, the angrier I got with myself.And the more I thought about it, the more I started to despise Eleanor. She was a villain seeking control over me, and I was determined to stop her. The day then came when I found her holding up one of my shirts and inspecting it, her hands trembling. The brown stain on it caught my eye, and we both knew it was dried blood, and it was from a human. “Damian,” she began, the tears already gathering in her eyes so that they sparkled.“What?” I asked, fixing an eye on her. “We talked about this,” she said, in a manner that made it look like I was a child who needed correcting, and not a man who had been escaping death for so long. “We’re going to have children who need to be kept safe—”“Or who will learn how to keep the Blackwood name high, Debbie,” I shot back, stepping closer. “Like me. I killed my first man at fifteen and have lived on the edge ever since. I built everything you see around you with blood.
Eleanor's POVSLAP!The impact and sound of Damian’s palm hit my cheek with such force that I tumbled backward. For a moment, my vision became blurry, and a strong pain ran through my face. The world around me turned around, the big chandeliers above turning into streaks of gold. Gasps filled the ballroom, followed by a suffocating and usual silence that felt like a heavy weight pressing down on me.I pressed my fingers to my burning cheek, the sting only adding to my pain. While my ears rang from the blow, tingle tingle, the pounding of my heart was even louder. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t possibly be happening to me.Damian Blackwood, my husband, my love, my everything,g stood before me, his gaze filled with cold, unyielding fury, just like that of a dagger."You ungrateful whore! You bastard" he roared, his voice moving through my entire being.I recoiled at the venom in his words. My lips twisted, trying to defend myself, but my throat felt dry and my mind was a blank and
Eleanor's POVI woke up to a sharp pain all over my body. A piercing, strong, heart-wrenching pain ran through me like wildfire. My arms lay motionless and unmoved. My legs felt as though they were made of lead and steel. My mouth was dried, and my lips cracked and were bleeding profusely.I attempted to blink, yet the world remained an unstable haze of shadow and dim light. The ache in my head was so overwhelming that I thought for a fleeting moment I might be dead by now.But I wasn’t. As much as I wished I were.The instant my vision sharpened, I saw them. And that’s when hell truly began….******I found myself sleeping helplessly on a strong concrete floor, my hands were tied behind me, my body weakened from hunger and exhaustion. The odor in the air was unbearable sweat, urine, poo, something putrid and really irritating.And then I saw them. Three men.Filthy, obese, ugly, stupid men.Their gaze ran over my body like insects, their laughter low and really disgusting."Finally a
Eleanor's POVI didn’t go down without a fight. I kicked and screamed, struggling against the chains restraining my wrists as Vincent’s dogs dragged me down the shadowy hallway. The iron cuffs bruised my skin, the chains twisting with each step.But that didn’t matter. They had taken everything from me. They would not break my spirit. Whatever lay ahead, they would pay for their actions, they would surely pay.******The dark and shabby underground chamber was filled with the scent of cigars and pricey cologne. Heavily furnished, with expensive curtains and caged chandeliers casting sinister shadows over the faces of influential men gathered to bid.I had heard rumors of such place before, a place where humans are being sold. Where women were treated as mere objects, like pieces of trash.Where predators in tailored suits drink expensive whiskey while bargaining on human lives. At the heart of it all stood Vincent Moreau, that bastard, the man who destroyed me.He remained beside me,
Eleanor's POVI had hoped that my torment would stop once I was removed from Vincent's presence and cage. I never knew that more suffering and beating awaited me. I briefly thought that Kieran Lancaster might be my way out of a nightmare, my way out of severe punishment and bitterness, but I was mistaken. I was really wrong, so utterly mistaken.The mansion was really beautiful, with white designs, endless marble corridors, and fine chandeliers that shone like diamonds. It looks like a scene out of a fairytale in movies, yet to me, it felt like just another prison, a place where I didn’t fit in, a place where I looked like a dog, maybe. As soon as I entered, a deep sense of unwelcomeness ran over me, and I knew instantly that my suffering had just begun.I had not even gotten into the house before a loud sound of heels echoed carelessly down the hall like a drum, followed by a voice that reeked with cold hate.“So this is what you brought home?”I slowly turned my head, my body shakin
Eleanor's POVI thought I had seen the worst of Bianca's ruthlessness and wickedness when she forced me to lick her shoes in that disgusting bathroom. Yes she told me to lick her shoes, she forced my mouth on the tile, I licked poo and a lot of disgusting things.As soon as she finished dripping in my humiliation, she seized my hair and dragged me through the mansion, ignoring my protests and my shivering body as I stumbled on the icy floors with my bare feet, She really made me suffer."You're not finished yet, whore," she spat, pulling me into her big bedroom. "You have something else to clean for me."I was nearly too weak to stand, yet I forced myself to move, pain running through me with every step. When we reached her room, she flung the door open and pushed me inside.The disgusting odor of blood hit me immediately.Then I saw it.A heap of dirty clothes is on the floor, dark stains of dried menstrual blood staining the fabric.My stomach twisted violently, the smell was just t
ELEANOR The darkness swam around me when I opened my eyes.It was frightening, too, to open them and see Lady Lancaster standing alone with her son, Kieran, staring down at me with impersonal looks on their faces. I could have screamed out in horror of how much they made me think of evil—of demons standing by my bedside, with the flowing black clothes they wore and how white their faces seemed. Pale and vampire-like. “You're awake,” Kieran said, as though he needed to remind me.I made a feeble attempt to nod, but my body felt like lead and it made me want to cry. “Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?” And there, the bombshell dropped. It made my heart start to race, and my skin went damp in that instant. “The girl is weak, Kieran,” Lady Lancaster said, as a smile spread across her lips. “There is no need to ask her such questions, is it not. Besides, the baby from your so-called wife is gone, just like a balloon left off to go on its own.”There was a slight, almost inaudib
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD The more I thought about it, the angrier I got with myself.And the more I thought about it, the more I started to despise Eleanor. She was a villain seeking control over me, and I was determined to stop her. The day then came when I found her holding up one of my shirts and inspecting it, her hands trembling. The brown stain on it caught my eye, and we both knew it was dried blood, and it was from a human. “Damian,” she began, the tears already gathering in her eyes so that they sparkled.“What?” I asked, fixing an eye on her. “We talked about this,” she said, in a manner that made it look like I was a child who needed correcting, and not a man who had been escaping death for so long. “We’re going to have children who need to be kept safe—”“Or who will learn how to keep the Blackwood name high, Debbie,” I shot back, stepping closer. “Like me. I killed my first man at fifteen and have lived on the edge ever since. I built everything you see around you with blood.
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD At first, the world was mine. Then, and all of a sudden, it wasn't.It started with rumours of a plot against me, and from the ones I expected in the least, from the eldest of the three Black grandchildren Victor Black had left in my care when he died. I had allowed them to have the rights to their property piece by piece and as they advanced in age, and cared for them as I would have with my own siblings. Yet, the eldest of them, Wesley, had somehow nursed hatred and resentment for me all that time, even to the point of wanting to take me captive.Someone must have advised him against it, seeing that I would not be easily taken because I soon set a number of spies on him and the influx of information soon changed. He was no longer setting his eyes on me, deeming me too big for him to catch. Next, he set his sights on the one person he thought he could take to get at me. My wife, Eleanor.I prepared well for him, setting a few men to watch over Eleanor, and asking t
ELEANOR SINCLAIR We moved—myself and the dogs—to the Blackwood home, where I was forced to swallow a bitter truth. I would never get my husband back. He became more distant and started to change after that. It was heartbreaking to watch him go even farther from me, to receive even less attention from him. His kisses became quick and hurried, and our lovemaking became so infrequent that I found myself driven towards the edge of madness.But the climax of everything would come the one evening I found a blood-stained shirt hidden in the laundry basket. It was hidden away, but I found it anyway, and my hands could not remain steady as I held it up, looking at the broken stain in horror. It broke my heart to realise that I was too late. Too late to see him for who he was. To see that he would not change. To see that it was what being a Blackwood meant, to him.At the very moment, he walked in and past me in the most casual way.“Damian,” I called out to him, holding up the shirt so he w
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,
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
ELEANOR SINCLAIR I think love is a creeping feeling.It comes upon you like a thief in the night, and remains with you like your shadow—unnoticed, but realer than fiction. It holds sway over you like a powerful spell, and causes you to make decisions under its full influence. And all the time, it goes unnoticed.Another thing I think is that Grandfather knew that I was in love with Damian. When I did, I did not know. Maybe it had to have seized me on the day that I ruined his shirt in the most egregious of ways, so that I was sure of two things. That I had permanently ruined that shirt and that I was going to lose my job. I do not know about the first, but he graciously saved me from the second and even put the manager down. Maybe it was because I spent days and even months after that waiting for him to come again. ‘So I could serve him better than the first time,’ I told myself, but I knew deep inside that it was more than that. That it was just because I wanted to be seen by him.
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
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
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