The Curse of Blackwood Estate

Ethan’s POV The seaplane sputtered, its engine coughing in protest as we skimmed the lake’s surface. My heart raced as the plane jerked, dipping and swaying. My fingers clamped around the armrests, knuckles pale, as the screeching groan of metal against air brought my teeth together in a tight wince. When the pilot opened the door, my stomach twisted, and I forced my lips into a tight line, swallowing back the bitter taste of disdain as I surveyed the plane. It looked like it could fall apart at any moment. “Welcome to Glenwyck Village,” the pilot announced, extending a hand. I ignored it, straightening my jacket as the dock creaked under my Italian leather loafers. As I stepped onto the dock, the village stretched out before me, like a painting faded by time. Cobblestone streets wound between cottages huddled under ancient trees. I caught the faint smell of peat smoke mingling with the earthy scent of pine and mist that lingered over the hills. Nana stood at the end of the dock, her silver hair pulled back under a cozy plaid shawl, her smile wide and warm. Nana looked every bit the beloved matriarch of this remote village. “Ethan!” she called out, her voice as light as the mist curling around us. I straightened my shoulders and pressed my lips into a polite smile, steeling myself as I walked toward her. “Nana. Good to see you.” She reached up and pinched my cheek, grinning up at me with her signature look that always unnerved me. “Oh, don’t look so pained, dear.” Her voice held that familiar teasing lilt. “All that money and no life to show for it. You need this break.” I bit back a sigh. “I have a life, Nana. A successful one.” My voice betrayed a hint of defensiveness, but I couldn’t help it. She only chuckled, turning to the cobbled street that led to the edge of the village. “Success isn’t everything, my boy. Now, I have someone to help me look after you while you’re here.” “Look after me?” I asked, horror creeping into my voice. “You’ll see.” Nana winked, leading the way. I grimaced as I climbed into the Jeep parked at the edge of the dock. The engine rumbled to life, and we took the winding path that cut through the quaint streets, with cottages nestled close and the village stretching in every direction against the rugged Highland landscape. The charms of Glenwyck, however picturesque, felt more like a cage. After what seemed like an eternity on bumpy roads, we arrived at a small glade where a stone cottage stood, half-covered in ivy, its windows glowing warmly in the fading light. I suppressed a groan. Compared to my sleek city penthouse, the cottage looked about as comfortable as a hayloft. The front door swung open, and out stepped a woman whose presence clashed with every expectation I’d had. She was young, with wild auburn hair tangled around her shoulders, bare feet touching the damp earth as she moved. She wore a loose, earth-toned dress that swirled around her ankles, and her green eyes held a glint of something sharp, something almost challenging. “Ethan, this is Lily,” Nana said, smiling. “She’s my caregiver—and a rather talented witch, I should mention.” I froze, my mind catching on the word "witch." “You’re kidding, right?” I managed to say, my voice tinged with disbelief. Lily gave me a slow smile, folding her arms. “No, I’m not. I take my work very seriously.” “Work?” The word almost made me laugh. I looked her up and down, from her bare feet to her unruly hair. “Nana, this—this girl is what you’ve hired?” Nana’s eyes narrowed. “She’s exactly who I’ve hired, and she’s here to help me with you.” Lily’s smile didn’t falter, but there was a flash in her eyes. “I look forward to working with you, Ethan,” she said sweetly, extending her hand. I hesitated, my fingers brushing against hers before I quickly withdrew, the contact leaving a strange, uneasy tingling in my hand. “Listen, I don’t need anyone to ‘help’ me. I’ll be out of this place as soon as my sabbatical is up.” Lily’s hand slipped from my grasp, and her lips curved into a smirk. “We’ll see.” I shot her a glare, and she only smiled back, unbothered. It was that attitude—that unwavering, maddening confidence—that irked me. As we stepped inside, the cottage felt the space shrink around me. The cozy, cluttered charm of the place felt claustrophobic. The faint smell of lavender and sage filled the air. Over the next few days, things only grew worse. Lily seemed to be everywhere, her humming and calm, irritating presence filling each corner of the cottage. Her manner with Nana was always soft, attentive, and undisturbed by my sarcasm or irritation. No matter how many sharp remarks I threw her way, she returned each one with a polite, infuriatingly serene smile. After a particularly heated exchange where she’d smiled through my sarcasm, I couldn’t take it anymore. That evening, I stormed into Nana’s sitting room, where she was knitting by the fire. “Nana, this…Lily has to go.” My words came out clipped, barely holding my frustration in check. “She’s impossible.” Nana’s knitting needles paused, and she looked up at me, one eyebrow raised. “And why is that?” “She’s insufferably cheerful. She hums while she works—she claims to be a witch!” I stopped, realizing how ridiculous I sounded. But the words were already out, and I scowled. “She’s no good for you, Nana. You deserve better.” Nana’s gaze hardened, and she pointed her knitting needle in my direction. “No, Ethan, you deserve better. And perhaps the way to get there is by letting go of the idea that everyone’s out to con you.” She softened. “Lily stays.” I bit back my retort, knowing better than to challenge her. I’d never won an argument against Nana. That night, as I lay in bed, sleep wouldn’t come. Thoughts of the witchy caregiver gnawed at me. This wasn’t just dislike; it was something else I didn’t understand and couldn’t shake. A plan began to form in my mind. If Nana wouldn’t let her go, maybe I could help nudge her out. A little sabotage, a little deception—something I’d perfected in business. It was almost too easy. In the dark, I allowed myself a smile.