CHAPTER 3: MR BLACKWOOD
2279 Words
“We still haven’t been able to identify who’s behind the thefts at the warehouse in Italy, Mr. Blackwood.”
The man’s voice trembled slightly as he spoke.
The room was silent.
Too silent.
Around the long mahogany conference table sat the senior managers responsible for different branches of the Blackwood conglomerate. Some had flown in from different parts of the country. Others had come from overseas.
All of them had received the same message.
Emergency meeting. Bellmont. Immediate attendance required.
And now, they were all beginning to understand why.
Nobody dared shift unnecessarily in their seats. Nobody dared check their phones.
They were all waiting.
Waiting for the man at the head of the table to speak.
Orion Blackwood sat there in a grey suit with his hands clasped loosely in front of him, his expression unreadable.
He had been listening for the past twenty minutes.
That was what made it worse.
He wasn't shouting.
He wasn't pacing.
He wasn't even visibly angry.
He was simply sitting there, listening.
And somehow, that was far more intimidating.
For many of the managers in the room, this was their first time meeting Orion Blackwood face-to-face.
They had heard the stories.
The eldest Blackwood son.
The current successor to one of the most powerful business families in the country.
A man known for being ruthless when it came to business.
Looking at him now, they understood where the rumors came from.
His dark hair was neatly styled, his dark eyes sharp and watchful, and every movement he made seemed deliberate. His handsome features did little to soften the authority he carried.
Orion leaned back slightly in his chair.
“So,” he finally said, his voice calm, “after three months of missing inventory, your department still has no idea who is responsible?”
The manager who had spoken swallowed.
“It appears that way, sir.”
“Appears?”
Orion raised an eyebrow.
The man immediately regretted his choice of words.
“I mean—yes, sir.”
Orion's gaze moved across the table.
“How much?”
Nobody answered.
His eyes returned to the manager.
“How much inventory has been stolen?”
The man cleared his throat.
“Approximately two hundred and eighty thousand dollars worth of goods.”
A few people around the table shifted uncomfortably.
Orion's jaw tightened.
“Two hundred and eighty thousand.”
He repeated the number slowly.
“And you allowed it to continue for three months without informing headquarters.”
“It wasn't initially believed to be a significant loss, sir.”
Orion stared at him.
“Not significant?”
The temperature in the room suddenly felt several degrees colder.
“Nearly three hundred thousand dollars disappeared from one of our warehouses, and you didn't consider it significant?”
“No, sir. I—”
“You didn't consider it significant because you didn't investigate it.”
The man went pale.
Orion leaned forward, resting his forearms against the table.
“Let me make something very clear.”
Every person in the room straightened.
“I don't expect problems to never occur. This is a business. Problems happen.”
His gaze moved from one manager to another.
“What I do expect is for the people I put in charge to notice those problems, investigate them, and report them before they become disasters.”
Nobody spoke.
Orion looked back at the manager.
“If petty theft can continue under your supervision for three months without anyone being held accountable, then perhaps you aren't fit to manage that branch.”
The man's face drained of color.
His entire life seemed to flash before his eyes.
His job.
His salary.
His house.
His children's school fees.
Everything he had worked for.
Gone.
He had made a mistake.
He should have taken the missing inventory seriously from the beginning instead of assuming it would eventually stop.
Now he was sitting in front of the one person who could end his career with a sentence.
“I—I sincerely apologize, Mr. Blackwood.”
He leaned forward desperately.
“Please. Give me another chance. My family has worked for the Blackwoods for years. My father worked for your grandfather, and—”
Orion held up a hand.
The man immediately stopped.
“Your family's history with mine doesn't excuse your incompetence.”
The words landed heavily.
“But…”
Orion paused.
“One month.”
The manager looked up quickly.
“Sir?”
“You have one month to identify who is responsible, recover what you can, and give me a full report on how this happened.”
Orion's expression remained cold.
“If you fail, I'll personally take over the investigation.”
He leaned back.
“And you can consider yourself terminated.”
The man nodded frantically.
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I won't fail you.”
Orion said nothing.
The meeting continued for another twenty minutes.
Other managers were questioned about security, finances, employee access, inventory records, and irregularities within their own branches.
By the time the meeting ended, everyone had received a very clear message.
Orion Blackwood expected results.
Not excuses.
Orion returned to his office shortly afterward.
The city of Bellmont stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, but he barely noticed it.
A thick stack of documents sat on his desk, waiting for his signature.
He had barely made it halfway through the first file when the door opened without a knock.
Orion didn't look up.
“I'm going to fire whoever taught you how to knock.”
A familiar voice answered.
“Good luck. I taught myself.”
Orion finally looked up.
Blake stood in the doorway, dressed in an expensive suit, a grin spreading across his handsome face.
Orion stared at him.
Blake grinned wider.
“Heyyyy, my man Rio.”
“Don't call me that.”
“Rio.”
“Blake.”
“Riorio.”
Orion slowly put down his pen.
“Do you want something?”
Blake walked into the office and shut the door behind him.
“Actually, yes.”
“What?”
“Your grandmother called.”
Orion sighed.
Of course she did.
“What does she want?”
“She said you're expected at a family dinner in two weeks.”
Orion rubbed his temples.
“A family dinner.”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
Blake shrugged.
“Because apparently eating food around people you're related to is still a thing.”
Orion gave him a flat look.
“You know what I mean.”
Blake dropped into the chair opposite him.
“Fine. Your grandmother wants to see you.”
“That's it?”
Blake hesitated.
“She also specifically asked whether you're seeing anyone.”
Orion closed his eyes.
There it was.
He knew it.
“Of course she did.”
“I told her you're married.”
Orion's eyes snapped open.
“You did what?”
Blake burst out laughing.
“Relax! I was joking.”
“Blake.”
“Okay, okay.”
Blake held up his hands.
“She didn't ask me directly. But I have a feeling that's where the conversation is going.”
Orion leaned back in his chair.
His grandmother had been asking about his love life for years especially since he clocked 32 this year.
At this point, he was beginning to suspect she had made finding him a wife her personal retirement project.
Blake studied him for a moment.
“You look terrible.”
Orion stared at him.
“No shit.”
“I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
“You need sleep.”
“I sleep.”
“Four hours doesn't count.”
“It does if I wake up four times.”
Blake stared at him.
“That's somehow worse.”
Orion ignored him and returned to his paperwork.
Blake sighed dramatically.
“You know what your problem is?”
“I have several. Be specific.”
“You work too much.”
“That's not a problem.”
“Your definition of fun is signing contracts.”
“That is not true.”
Blake raised an eyebrow.
“Last week you told me watching a documentary about real estate development was relaxing.”
“It was informative.”
“You fell asleep halfway through it.”
“I was tired.”
“You drooled on the report.”
Orion slowly looked up.
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
“Get out.”
Blake laughed.
“See? This is exactly why you need to loosen up.”
“I am perfectly relaxed.”
“You look like you're about to personally interrogate the printer because it ran out of paper.”
Orion stared at him.
Blake smiled.
“Come on. Let's go out tonight.”
“No.”
“Gold District.”
“No.”
“The Crescent.”
Orion paused.
Blake immediately noticed.
“Ah.”
Orion frowned.
“Ah what?”
“You paused.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
“I was thinking.”
“You were thinking about going.”
“I was thinking about how annoying you are.”
“Same thing.”
Orion sighed.
“Do I have an appointment there?”
Blake's eyes lit up.
“Yes, actually.”
Orion narrowed his eyes.
“What appointment?”
Blake's grin became almost suspiciously pleased.
“You need to check on your club.”
Orion stared at him.
“My club is running perfectly fine.”
“Then you shouldn't have a problem checking.”
Orion leaned back.
Blake stood.
“Come on, boss. One night.”
Orion sighed.
He already knew he'd lost.
“Fine.”
Blake smiled triumphantly.
“Knew you'd see reason.”
“I haven't seen reason.”
“Then what have you seen?”
“Your face.”
Blake placed a hand over his chest.
“That's hurtful.”
“Good.”
By the time they arrived at The Crescent, the club was already alive.
Music thumped through the building, bass vibrating through the walls as expensive cars lined the street outside.
Orion stepped out of the car and adjusted the sleeve of his suit.
His eyes immediately began scanning the building.
The entrance.
Security.
Staff.
Guests.
Everything.
Blake watched him.
“You know normal people just walk into clubs, right?”
Orion ignored him.
“Security looks organized.”
Blake sighed.
“Of course that's the first thing you notice.”
Orion looked at him.
“What else should I notice?”
“The beautiful women.”
“No.”
“The expensive cars?”
“No.”
“The free alcohol?”
“Definitely no.”
Blake shook his head.
“You're impossible.”
He pulled two VIP tickets from his suit pocket.
They were going in without announcing themselves.
Although Orion owned The Crescent, very few people actually knew it.
The club had been established quietly, with one of Orion's trusted men placed in charge of its daily operations.
Orion preferred it that way.
The Blackwood name already attracted enough attention.
He didn't need the public knowing about every business he owned.
The Crescent was only one of several clubs and hotels he secretly controlled throughout the Gold District.
Even most members of his own family had no idea just how extensive his private business portfolio was.
Blake knew.
The man Orion had placed in charge knew.
And that was enough.
They approached the entrance.
The bouncer glanced at them.
Recognition immediately flashed across his face.
“Mr. Blackwood.”
He straightened.
“It's an honor, sir.”
A few nearby employees immediately noticed him and exchanged surprised looks.
Orion gave the bouncer a brief nod.
“Everything running smoothly?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.”
They were immediately escorted toward the VIP section.
As they walked, Orion's eyes continued moving around the club.
The staff appeared attentive.
Security was positioned properly.
The guests were being handled efficiently.
Nothing seemed out of place.
Blake leaned closer.
“Everything looks good, boss.”
Orion nodded.
“Mm.”
They reached their private VIP booth.
Orion was about to sit when that strange feeling returned.
Someone was watching him.
He stopped.
His eyebrows pulled together slightly.
Blake noticed.
“What?”
Orion didn't answer.
His gaze slowly swept across the room.
People laughed.
Drinks were being served.
Music played.
Nothing seemed unusual.
And then—
His eyes stopped.
Across the room sat a woman.
Red hair.
Green eyes.
A face that looked almost too innocent for the place she was in.
Orion stared.
For a moment, the noise around him seemed to disappear.
The conversations.
The music.
The movement of the crowd.
Everything faded into the background.
All he could see were those captivating green eyes.
The woman was staring directly at him.
And for the first time that night, Orion forgot to inspect the room.
Blake followed his gaze.
His eyebrows slowly rose.
Then a grin appeared on his face.
“Oh.”
Orion sat down not responding.
Blake looked from Orion to the woman and back again.
“Oh, this is interesting.”
Orion finally blinked.
“Shut up.”
Blake's grin widened.
“I didn't even say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was.”
Orion looked back toward the woman.
She was still watching him.
And despite himself, he couldn't look away.
For a man who had spent years believing he had complete control over every situation in his life, Orion Blackwood suddenly found himself facing a problem he had never learned how to handle.
A woman who had caught his attention.
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