WHERE MY ENEMY LIVES
Even from the gate, I could feel the pressure that came from money powerful enough to shape lives; it was quiet, controlled, perfect, and somehow that made it even more alarming. Iron bars stretched into the sky, polished so perfectly that they reflected nothing. Cameras followed every moment perfectly. Bodyguards stood like they had been carved into the landscape.
Nothing here was accidental or ordinary, and I was walking into it with my hands trembling. There were places not meant for people like me and the Blackwood estate was one of them.
My fingers were tight around my clutch as I stared at the invitation in my hands, my eyes wide. The Blackwood family requests your presence. Request? That word annoyed me more than it should have, it only reminded me of what happened five years ago when the Blackwood name became something I refused to say out loud as the thought became more and more aggressive. A voice brought me back to reality.
Ava Thompson!! Ava Thompson!!
It was Damien Blackwood, my boss, who I had arrived with. He was tall, immaculate, unbothered by the weight of the world in a way that almost looked unfair.
My name sounded so light in his voice that it was measured like he was testing how to fit it. Mr Blackwood!! I replied.
A silence stretched between us, it was deliberate not awkward, then he smiled faintly not warmth, not friendliness, something more controlled than that.
Ready? He asked with a really strange expression.
I exhaled slightly, almost laughing. Yes I am. I stepped out of the car thinking to myself as if today could be prepared for.
He gestured towards the doors of the estate and said in a really polite but controlled tone let’s not keep my family waiting. Something in my chest tightened. It felt heavy, but I ignored it. I linked my hands with his as he led me inside the mansion. The air changed and my body tensed up. I felt heavy.
The room was warm and calm in a way the outside world wasn’t. The Blackwood estate was exactly how I pictured it: crystal chandeliers, soft classical music, and conversations wrapped in low elegance. People smiled with it reaching their eyes.
I immediately felt out of place I didn’t know if it was the stairs, but I wasn’t ok, But I had already learned how to fake it till you make it, Damien walked beside me with his head held high like it was all his, it was this wasn’t just a house it was a legacy.
And somewhere inside this house was a man who built it all, Richard Blackwood. The name hit me like a punch to the chest. I looked away before the memories could surface.
Not here, not now.
Ava! Damien’s voice pulled me back I realized I had slowed down,
His gaze settled on me.“You’re pale.”It wasn't a concern.
It sounded like an observation.
“I’m fine” I answered without thinking too quickly,
His gaze lingered on me as if he knew I was lying.
Suddenly the room fell silent, every conversation stopped, and every head turned towards the staircase, and when I looked up my blood ran cold. Richard Blackwood was standing there, staring directly at me.
