A Second Chance With Mr. Blackwood

In the roaring flames of the abandoned warehouse, my skin blistered and peeled. Through the crackling fire, my sister Elara's malicious voice echoed. She told me my husband, Damien, was dead, and it was all my fault. For years, I had treated Damien like a monster. I fought him, threw tantrums, and desperately tried to escape our marriage, all because I blindly followed Elara's advice. "Remember, the harder you fight, the more disgusted he'll get." She texted me things like that, telling me to smash vases over his head and run away, claiming she was protecting me. In reality, she was poisoning my mind, stealing my valedictorian spot at university, and plotting to crawl into my billionaire husband's bed. My foolish rebellion cost me everything, ultimately leading to Damien's tragic death and my own fiery end. As the massive explosion tore my consciousness to shreds, I finally understood who truly loved me and who the real monster was. I died suffocating on my own agonizing regret, wishing I could tear Elara apart. Then, a rush of freezing air punched into my lungs. I opened my eyes to the crisp scent of cedar and mint. I was back seven years ago, on the very night our marriage was supposed to go to hell. This time, looking at Damien's flawless, unscarred face, I didn't push him away. I wrapped my arms around his neck and made a silent vow: I would make every single person who ever hurt him bleed.

Chapters

Chapter 2

Morning sunlight slashed through the massive windows, warming the tangled sheets. Giovanna opened her eyes.

A heavy, muscular arm was clamped around her waist like an iron band. Her back was pressed tight against a furnace of a chest.

She didn't scream. She didn't thrash. She moved with agonizing slowness, rolling over within his tight grip until she faced him.

Damien looked peaceful in sleep. Giovanna stared at his profile, her heart doing a slow, heavy thump in her chest. She raised her hand, her fingertip lightly tracing the sharp bridge of his nose.

His breathing was slow and even. But the rigid line of his jaw gave him away. He was awake. He was faking it.

Damien's mind was racing. He analyzed every micro-movement she made. He waited for the knife in the back, the screaming match, the inevitable demand for a divorce. This sudden, docile behavior had to be a trap.

Giovanna saw the slight flutter of his thick eyelashes. A small, knowing smile curved her lips.

She leaned in. Her lips brushed against the hard bump of his Adam's apple, leaving a feather-light kiss on his throat.

Damien's body jerked. The act was over. His dark eyes snapped open, blazing with a dangerous intensity.

His hand shot up, his long fingers wrapping around her wrist. He squeezed, the pressure bordering on painful. His eyes searched her face, looking for the lie.

Giovanna didn't flinch. She didn't pull away. Instead, she turned her head and rubbed her soft cheek against the rough palm of the hand holding her captive. She looked at him like a lazy, content cat.

"You're hurting me, D," she murmured. Her morning voice was raspy, heavy with sleep and completely devoid of fear. It sounded like a pout.

Damien dropped her wrist like it was on fire. He stared at the faint red marks his fingers left on her pale skin. A flash of regret darkened his eyes.

Before he could speak, a sharp, aggressive knock hammered against the heavy double doors of the master bedroom.

"Breakfast is served." Mrs. Gable's cold, rigid voice bled through the wood. The head housekeeper didn't bother hiding her disdain.

Damien's expression instantly turned murderous. He knew Mrs. Gable hated Giovanna. Usually, this was the exact moment Giovanna would start throwing lamps and screaming about being a prisoner.

He sat up, his broad shoulders tensing, ready to absorb the explosion he knew was coming.

Giovanna placed her hand flat against his bare chest. She pushed him back against the pillows. Her touch was light, but the command in her eyes was absolute.

She slid out of bed. She grabbed Damien's discarded black dress shirt from the floor and pulled it on. It swallowed her small frame, the hem hitting mid-thigh.

She walked barefoot to the door and yanked it open.

Mrs. Gable stood in the hallway, her chin raised in a permanent sneer. The sneer vanished the second she saw Giovanna.

The housekeeper's eyes widened, taking in the oversized men's shirt and the very obvious, dark red bruises blooming along Giovanna's collarbone.

"It is Mrs. Blackwood to you," Giovanna said. Her voice was ice. It wasn't a request; it was an executioner's sentence.

Mrs. Gable opened her mouth, her face flushing red. "I-"

"Shut up," Giovanna cut her off. She stepped closer, invading the older woman's space. The dead, hollow look in Giovanna's eyes-a look of absolute, chilling authority that promised utter destruction-made Mrs. Gable physically step back. "Go down to the kitchen. Tell the chef to prepare two American breakfasts. Now."

Mrs. Gable swallowed hard. Her hands shook. She bowed her head awkwardly. "Yes, Mrs. Blackwood." She turned and practically ran down the grand staircase.

Giovanna shut the door. The loud click echoed in the quiet room.

When she turned back around, the ice in her eyes melted. A sweet, bright smile lit up her face.

Damien was sitting up against the headboard. His eyes were locked on her, tracking her every move. He looked at her like she was a completely different species, something fascinating and terrifying.

Giovanna walked back to the bed. She crawled up the mattress and straddled his hips. She looped her arms around his neck.

"Did I act like a proper Mrs. Blackwood just now?" she asked softly.

Damien's Adam's apple bobbed. He didn't use words. His large hands grabbed the back of her head, pulling her down, and he answered her with a kiss that tasted like raw possession.

Continue to next part

Born into luxury, Hermione Watson-Pierce has always felt like merely a pawn in her parents' ruthless game of power. She learned to suppress her emotions, earning herself the title of the "Ice Queen." Just then, Aiden Mendes bursts into her life-a charming playboy known for his reckless reputation. Aiden chooses to cope with his inner turmoil through a lavish lifestyle, using his charisma and striking looks to keep others at bay. A looming threat forces them to face a contracted marriage or risk losing their inheritance. When they first meet, Aiden is struck by an unexpected attraction, as if it were love at first sight. Yet, his notorious reputation precedes him, and Hermione makes no effort to hide her disdain. As their contractual marriage evolves into a battle of wills, Aiden must work to melt Hermione's icy heart, proving that he is more than what meets the eye. But can he persuade her to rise above her prejudices and bravely pursue love?

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.3

Bound To The Disabled Apocalyptic Tycoon

9.3

Jessie's biological parents brought her back from a Rust Belt wasteland just to force her into marrying a paralyzed heir to save their bankrupt empire. Three years later, when the global doomsday apocalypse hit, her own family shoved her into a swarm of infected corpses. As she was being torn apart by mutated hounds, she was stunned by what she saw. Her fake sister, Harley, was clutching the antique silver necklace she had stolen from Jessie—an heirloom that secretly contained a magical spatial dimension. When the infected swarmed them, her biological mother didn't even look back. "Jessie is just white trash, she is perfectly suited to buy us time to run!" Harley used Jessie's stolen necklace to live in absolute safety and luxury, while Jessie's windpipe was ripped out in the rotting wasteland. Until she died, Jessie didn't understand. She was their true flesh and blood. Why did her parents hate her so much? Why was she sacrificed so easily while the fake daughter got everything? Opening her eyes again, the blinding glare of a crystal chandelier stabbed into her retinas. She was back in the Manhattan penthouse on the exact day they sold her off. This time, Jessie calmly signed the marriage contract, demanded a one hundred million dollar buyout, and walked out to prepare for the apocalypse.

Billionaire Modern Romance

7.8

Branded By The Devil's Cruel Kiss

7.8

Elie Joyce’s entire life was controlled by Ebert Ewing, a ruthless billionaire who held her sick grandmother's survival and her family's freedom in his hands. But on a freezing, stormy night, he forced her into a scandalous scrap of red silk and handed her over to a notorious, disgusting predator. "You aren't an escort. You're just a free gift." Ebert mocked her, using her as a disposable bargaining chip to secure a corporate funding round. When the predator humiliated her, forced high-proof vodka down her throat, and violently pinned her to the floor, Ebert simply watched with dead eyes. And when Ebert finally intervened to brutally beat the man, it wasn't out of mercy. "She is my property. Even if she is trash that I threw away, a filthy pig like you doesn't get to touch her." Afterward, he dragged her battered, barefoot body into his car, only to kick her out into the torrential rain, leaving her on the dark streets to die. Standing in the storm, shivering and bleeding from broken glass, the last shred of Elie's hope shattered. She had sacrificed her dignity and soul, enduring his violent bites and cruel control, just to keep her family alive. Why did she have to suffer this endless, twisted humiliation for a psychopath who only saw her as trash? But she didn't break. Tearing a strip of his expensive shirt to bandage her bleeding foot, Elie gripped her broken stiletto like a knife. With her eyes turning cold and calculating, she limped out of the shadows. She was going to survive, and Ebert Ewing would soon realize she was no longer his obedient prey.

Adventure Billionaire Modern

9.2

Divorcing The Ruthless Billionaire Husband

9.2

Averie spent hours preparing a perfect third-anniversary dinner for her billionaire husband, Jarett Sharp. Instead of celebrating, she received an anonymous photo of him intimately holding another woman. When Jarett finally arrived, he didn't even look guilty. "Candida. It's okay. Don't be scared. I'm on my way." He simply took a call from his mistress, shoved Averie aside, and walked right back out the door. That same night, Averie's father suffered a massive heart attack. The hospital demanded a half-million-dollar deposit before they would operate. But when Averie frantically tried to use the emergency medical trust card Jarett had given her, it was declined. Jarett had deliberately frozen her access to the funds just hours earlier. While she begged his assistant on the phone, Jarett refused to be disturbed, busy wrapping his expensive coat around his mistress in the hospital garden. Averie collapsed in the hallway, realizing the man she loved was deliberately letting her father die. In the end, a childhood friend stepped in to pay the bill and save her father's life, while her billionaire husband later pinned her to their bed, throwing a check at her and reminding her he had bought her for three million dollars. Averie didn't shed a single tear. She slowly ripped his check into pieces, left her massive diamond ring on the dresser, and walked out into the cold New York night with nothing but her old suitcase. She pulled out her phone and dialed her old ballet professor. She wasn't just going to leave Jarett Sharp. She was going to destroy him.

Billionaire Modern Romance

7.2

Immune To The Billionaire's Toxic Regret

7.2

Elmore Thomas rushed into the emergency room, clutching his feverish seven-year-old son, Buddy, tightly to his chest. When the privacy curtain was pulled back, the air in Elmore's lungs vanished. The attending physician standing under the harsh lights was his wife, Kendal—the woman everyone believed had burned to death eight years ago. But there was no tearful reunion. Kendal looked at him, and her eyes froze into impenetrable ice. She treated him like a biohazard, strictly referring to him as the family member. Worse, she didn't recognize Buddy. She comforted their crying son with the same gentle warmth she used to reserve for Elmore, completely unaware she was soothing the baby she thought had died. Days later, Elmore watched from the shadows as she picked up another boy outside a prep school, her left hand flashing a massive diamond engagement ring. When his butler accidentally recognized her, Kendal shielded her new stepson with pure disgust in her eyes. "Tell that psychopath to sign the divorce papers immediately. I have a new family now." The words 'new family' echoed in Elmore's skull, tearing him apart. For eight years, he had lived in a hell of guilt and madness, raising their son in the shadow of her ghost. How could she just erase their past? How could she give her tender smiles to a stranger and look at him with absolute revulsion? Standing in a luxury ballroom, Elmore squeezed his hand until his crystal champagne flute shattered, thick blood dripping onto the rug. The murderous obsession in his dark eyes returned as he called his lawyer. "Freeze her divorce application. Use every dirty trick in the book. She isn't leaving."

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.7

One Dollar For Pity: The Surgeon Returns

9.7

For three years, I played the role of a devoted, naive wife to billionaire Conrad Whitney. I hid my true identity and foolishly believed in our fairy tale. Then he handed me a harsh divorce agreement, ordering me to sign and walk away with absolutely nothing. He was leaving me to marry Cindy, the fragile woman he claimed had saved him from a fire. He expected me to cry and beg. Instead, he watched coldly as Cindy and her family illegally transferred my father's trust fund. When I confronted them at the hospital, Conrad shielded her, calling me a greedy, toxic viper. He mocked me, completely blind to the fact that Cindy was a fraud. He truly believed I was just a pathetic, useless housewife who would be utterly destroyed without his money and status. I looked at the man I had actually dragged out of that burning debris with my own soot-covered hands. My trauma, my sacrifices, and my love had all been reduced to a joke by his sheer arrogance and a few fake tears from a manipulative liar. I didn't shed a single tear. I calmly signed the papers, drugged his wine, and left a crumpled one-dollar bill on his unconscious chest with a sticky note mocking his terrible service. Then, I picked up my encrypted phone. It was time for the world's top surgeon, Dr. Hades, to return, and for Conrad to finally see the god he had just thrown away.

Billionaire Modern Romance

A Second Chance With Mr. Blackwood

Chapter 2

You may also like