Blackwood will not see me coming

Chapter 3

A little chill scampered down my spine the moment our eyes met. It was a look I knew well, one I had studied closely over years filled with silence and the sort of tension that could make a cat decide whether to leap. Blackwood was angry.

Not the loud, shouting kind of anger. No, this was something more sinister. It was controlled, focused, and as cold as a winter's morning. My instincts urged me to move, to step back, to create some distance before things turned dreadfully worse. I took one step back. Then another. But already, I felt trapped.

He crossed the room with long strides, each step echoing the resolve of a man on a mission. Before I realized it, he had me by the throat, pinning me against the wall. The sudden jolt knocked the breath right out of me, and pain shot through my shoulder like a bolt of electricity.

“Blackwood…..please…” I gasped, fingers clawing at his wrist as waves of panic washed over me. His grip loosened just enough to let a little air slip in—not from any kindness, mind you, but because he was having a hard time controlling the storm brewing inside him.

“So you think you’re important enough,” he said softly, but there was a dangerous edge to his voice, “to treat Vanessa like that?”

“I….she came to me first…” My voice wobbled, sounding more like a frightened bird than a person. “I didn’t.”

“Enough!” The word snapped in the air like a fresh coconut falling from a tree.

“I don’t want your excuses,” he snapped back. “Vanessa isn’t like you. She’s gentle, soft. She didn’t deserve your cruelty.”

My chest felt tight as if a weight had settled there.

“What if you stressed her enough to harm the baby?” he continued, his grip tightening again. “Did that ever cross your mind? Or are you so bitter that you’d risk my child out of spite?”

I froze. The accusation hit me like a stone thrown into a quiet pond. Even in that dreadful moment, with his hand clamped around my throat and fear swirling around me, I noticed things I hated myself for noticing, the sharpness of his jawline, the way his dark hair had rebelliously come undone from its neatness, and the height difference between us, his shadow swallowing me whole.

He was undoubtedly intimidating, and yet my body reacted in ways I couldn't control. It was infuriating, this emotional training I had endured, where love had twisted itself into a thorny vine that both hurt and beckoned me closer.

I focused hard, whispering in my mind, “This isn’t me. Just old habits, old wounds.”

“I would never hurt a child,” I managed to say hoarsely. “I didn’t do anything to her. She came to provoke me.”

Then, without warning, a sharp sound sliced through the air..a c***k that resonated in my ears. Pain bloomed across my cheek as his hand connected with my face, leaving my vision blurry. My head snapped sideways, and I felt like I had been branded. Blood filled my mouth.

“You are nothing, Elena,” he said, chillingly calm. “You are here because I allowed you to be. Don’t ever forget that.”

My legs turned to jelly, quaking beneath me.

“You might carry the Blackwood name,” he continued, his voice laced with venom, “but I built this empire. I decide who stands beside me. If you ever touch Vanessa again, even with words, I will make you regret it.”

Then, like the flip of a switch, he released me. I slid down the wall, my legs giving out as I crumpled onto the floor.

For a brief moment, I thought he might actually take my life. The look in his eyes was familiar, yet now it felt unsettlingly close to erasing me entirely.

Without another word, he turned and strode out, the door slamming shut behind him.

Silence swept in like a thick fog. And then, almost unexpectedly, I began to laugh. It erupted from me, a broken, hysterical sound, tears rolling down my face as laughter shook my body.

If only he had ended things long ago, none of this would have happened. Had he cut me loose instead of trapping me in this slow, excruciating torment, I might have learned to live for myself. Perhaps, I could have found someone who would love me, or learn to love myself.

“Elena?” Margaret’s voice trembled from the other side of the room, her expression frozen in concern as she witnessed my uncontrolled laughter from the floor.

I looked up at her, my smile crazed and wild. “Don’t you see?” I giggled, wiping away the tears. “It’s all quite funny, really. My life. I think the universe is having a good chuckle at my expense.”

Margaret rushed to my side, enveloping me in her arms. “Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, “you’ve been pushed too far.”

“I think this was always destined to happen,” I sniffled against her chest. “As if I was made just to endure this.”

She gently stroked my hair until my laughter faded into quiet, trembling sobs.

“I’ll come with you,” she declared suddenly.

I pulled back, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “What?”

“If you leave,” she said firmly, “you won’t leave alone.”

Terror twisted in my chest. “Margaret… you’d lose everything. If they catch us—”

“I’m not afraid,” she interrupted, her voice steady. “Not of fleeing. Not starting anew. Not when it means saving you.”

For the first time in ages, a glimmer of warmth flickered within me.

Hope.

The next morning, as I got ready for the executive council meeting, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I must admit, my reflection looked rather unkind. Dark circles were giving my eyes a rather ghastly appearance, and my face was paler than a well-cooked chapati. My hair, which used to be neatly arranged, now hung chaotically around my shoulders, despite my best efforts to tame it into submission.

But no matter the disarray, I stood tall. After all, I had been brought up for this very world, the world of Blackwood. The legacy had moulded me long before I ever married into it. I was educated, disciplined, and trained to take on pressure and humiliation like a trooper, without letting my spirit falter.

As I settled into my chair to Blackwood’s right in the boardroom, I couldn’t help but notice the atmosphere had shifted. Oddly enough, no one seemed inclined to meet my gaze. Instead, their eyes fixated on me with a strange intensity, as if they were stockpiling their judgments about what I had been reduced to. Every stare felt like a weighing scale, measuring how far I had fallen from grace.

Nobody asked for my opinion. No one even acknowledged that I was there. Instead, I had become little more than a spectacle for their silent entertainment. I had been plotting our escape for the end of the week, but oh, let me make it clear: quietly and carefully, like a cat sneaking past a sleeping dog. I had left behind detailed instructions, organized handovers, and ensured the company could operate without me, at least temporarily.

Just as I was lost in thought, a voice suddenly pulled me back. “What do you think, Elena?” It jolted me, and I whipped my head up with a start. “I” My throat felt like it had been tied in a knot. But before I could gather my thoughts into some coherent response, the doors burst open.

All heads turned in unison, and strode my father with the kind of determination usually reserved for an elephant charging through the village. Surprisingly, for the first time in my life, he wasn’t looking at me. No, his piercing gaze was aimed directly at Blackwood, and let me tell you, he looked furious.