THE BLACKWOOD HEIRESS RETURNS

CHAPTER ONE The rain had been falling over Lagos since midnight. By five in the morning, the streets were already awake. Danfo buses honked impatiently through flooded roads. Hawkers moved between vehicles with umbrellas balanced over their heads. The smell of roasted corn, wet earth, petrol, and roadside akara filled the humid air. But inside a tiny room in a crowded compound in Yaba, Amelia Grace Carter was awake for a completely different reason. She was hungry. Again. She sat on the edge of her narrow mattress, staring at the empty plate beside her. There was nothing on it. Not even a crumb. Amelia sighed and rubbed her stomach. “Just endure till afternoon.” She said it quietly, as though speaking to someone else. It was a habit she had developed over the years. Whenever life became unbearable, she talked to herself. There was nobody else. Her roommate, Grace, was still asleep on the other mattress. Amelia stood and walked toward the tiny mirror hanging beside the window. She studied her reflection. Twenty-three years old. Dark, expressive eyes. Long black hair she usually kept tied back. A slim face that often looked older than her age because of the worries she carried. She had never considered herself beautiful. Beautiful girls, she thought, belonged to another world. They wore expensive clothes. They lived in air-conditioned apartments. They had fathers who called to ask whether they had eaten. Amelia had none of those things. Her father had died when she was a baby. Her mother had died when Amelia was seventeen. At least, that was what she had been told. She had no siblings. No inheritance. No family waiting for her. Only memories. And one silver pendant. She reached beneath her shirt and touched it. The pendant had belonged to her mother. A small silver crown surrounded by three tiny stars. Amelia had worn it every day since her mother's funeral. Her mother had given it to her shortly before she died. And she had said something Amelia had never forgotten. “Whatever happens, Amelia, never lose this.” “Why?” Her mother had held her face between both hands. “Because one day, someone will come looking for it.” “Who?” Her mother had looked frightened. “People who should never find you.” Then she had kissed Amelia's forehead. “Promise me.” “I promise.” Amelia had been seventeen. She hadn't understood. She understood even less after her mother died three weeks later. Now, six years later, the pendant was the only thing she had left. A knock sounded. Amelia turned. “Amelia?” Grace's sleepy voice came from the mattress. “Hmm?” “Is that the landlord?” Amelia listened. Another knock. Harder this time. Bang. Bang. Bang. Grace sat upright. “Who is that?” “I don't know.” Amelia walked toward the door. “Don't open it,” Grace whispered. Amelia stopped. Another knock. Then a man's voice. “Amelia Grace Carter?” Her heart skipped. Nobody called her by her full name unless it was official business. “Who are you?” “I need to speak with you.” “What about?” “I have something that belongs to you.” Grace climbed out of bed. “Don't open that door.” Amelia hesitated. Then the man spoke again. “It concerns your mother.” Amelia froze. Her mother. For six years, nobody had mentioned her mother. Not like this. Amelia opened the door slightly. A man stood outside. He was perhaps in his late forties. Tall. Dark-skinned. Wearing a neatly pressed suit that looked completely out of place in their poor compound. His eyes immediately went to Amelia's neck. To the pendant. His expression changed. “You have it.” Amelia instinctively covered it. “What do you want?” The man looked behind her. “May I come in?” “No.” He sighed. “My name is Samuel.” “I don't know you.” “No. But I have been looking for you for a very long time.” Amelia's heart began beating faster. “Why?” Samuel reached inside his jacket. Grace stepped forward. “Don't!” Samuel stopped. “I'm not here to hurt anyone.” He slowly removed a photograph. Then he held it toward Amelia. “Look.” Amelia stared. At first, she didn't understand what she was seeing. Then her breath caught. A young woman stood in the photograph. Her mother. Elena. Amelia recognized her immediately. But Elena wasn't alone. Beside her stood a young man. Tall. Handsome. Wearing an expensive suit. And in his arms was a baby. A tiny baby girl. Amelia's eyes widened. “Who is that?” Samuel didn't answer. Amelia looked closer. The baby had a tiny silver bracelet. And beneath the bracelet was a familiar symbol. A crown. Her fingers trembled. “That's my mother.” “Yes.” “Who's the man?” Samuel looked directly at her. “Alexander James Blackwood.” Amelia frowned. The name meant nothing. “Who is he?” Samuel's voice became quiet. “Your father.” Amelia laughed. Not because anything was funny. Because sometimes shock sounded like laughter. “No.” “He is.” “My father died.” “That is what you were told.” “My mother told me.” “Your mother lied.” Amelia's expression hardened. “You don't know my mother.” “I knew her very well.” “Then tell me how she died.” Samuel hesitated. “She didn't.” The room seemed to tilt. Grace grabbed Amelia's arm. “What?” Samuel looked at Amelia. “Your mother may still be alive.” Amelia stared at him. “No.” “I know what you're thinking.” “You don't know anything about me.” “I know more than you think.” He reached into his pocket again. This time he brought out a folded document. “I have spent twenty-three years searching for you.” “Why?” “Because you're the lost heir of the Blackwood family.” Amelia stared at him. “The what?” “The Blackwood family.” Samuel leaned closer. “Your father owns one of the largest private business empires in the world.” Amelia shook her head. “This is some kind of joke.” “It isn't.” “Why would a billionaire abandon me?” “He didn't.” “Then why did I grow up here?” “Because someone wanted you to disappear.” A silence fell. Amelia's fingers tightened around the pendant. “Who?” Samuel looked toward the compound entrance. His expression suddenly changed. Fear. “There's no time.” “What?” “You need to leave.” “Why?” Samuel looked past her. Then whispered: “They found you.” A black SUV had stopped outside the compound. The doors opened. Three men stepped out. Then a woman. She wore black. Black dress. Black gloves. Black sunglasses. She stood perfectly still beneath the rain. Samuel's face went pale. “Who is she?” Samuel didn't answer. The woman removed her sunglasses. Amelia saw her face. Cold. Beautiful. Familiar. She had the same sharp cheekbones as Alexander in the photograph. The woman looked directly at Amelia. Then at the pendant. And smiled. Samuel whispered: “Victoria Blackwood.” Amelia's stomach dropped. “Who is she?” Samuel's answer came barely above a whisper. “Your father's sister.” Victoria began walking toward the building. Samuel grabbed Amelia's wrist. “Run.” “What?” “Now!” A gunshot exploded outside. The window shattered. Grace screamed. Amelia dropped to the floor. Samuel pushed the door closed. Another shot. Then another. “Stay down!” Amelia's heart was pounding violently. “Who is shooting?” Samuel looked at her. “The people who have been trying to find you for twenty-three years.” A bullet tore through the wooden door. Grace cried out. Amelia covered her ears. Then Samuel shouted: “There's a back exit!” He pulled Amelia up. “Go!” “What about you?” “Go!” Amelia grabbed Grace. They ran toward the back of the room. Another gunshot. Then suddenly— Silence. Too much silence. Amelia stopped. “What happened?” Samuel wasn't behind them. She turned. The room was empty. The front door stood open. Rain blew inside. Samuel was gone. So was Victoria. Amelia stared at the floor. There was blood. Her blood ran cold. “Samuel?” No answer. Grace grabbed her hand. “We have to leave.” Amelia nodded. They ran through the back exit. They didn't stop until they reached the main road. Amelia's chest burned. Her clothes were soaked. Her hands shook. Grace looked at her. “Who are you?” Amelia stared at her. “What?” “Who are you really?” “I don't know.” She touched the pendant. For the first time in her life, Amelia wondered whether the woman she had believed herself to be had ever truly existed. Then her phone rang. Unknown number. She answered. Nobody spoke. “Hello?” Static. Then a man's voice. Deep. Calm. Terrified. “Amelia.” She froze. She knew that voice. She had heard it once before. Years ago. On the night her mother died. Her mother's final words had been: “Don't trust anyone who says they are your family.” The voice on the phone spoke again. “I am your father.” Amelia couldn't breathe. “Who are you?” “My name is Alexander Blackwood.” Her knees weakened. “Where are you?” A pause. Then: “They've found you.” Amelia's heart raced. “Who?” Before he could answer, she heard a struggle. A crash. Then Alexander shouted: “Amelia, whatever happens, do not let Victoria—” The call ended. Amelia stared at the phone. Grace looked at her. “What did he say?” Amelia slowly lifted her eyes. “He said his name was Alexander Blackwood.” Then, from across the road, a black car began moving toward them. Inside it sat the woman in black. Victoria. She lowered the window. Their eyes met. Victoria smiled. And raised her hand. In it was the same silver pendant Amelia was wearing. Except— Amelia had never seen it before. And engraved on Victoria's pendant was a single word: ISABELLA. Amelia stared at it. Her entire world went silent. Because suddenly she understood one thing. There was someone else. Someone who had her mother's pendant. Someone named Isabella. And if Samuel had been telling the truth… Amelia had never been an only child. To be continued in Chapter 2 — THE WOMAN IN BLACK