Chapter 3 - The War of the Blackwoods
By the end of the week, Elena was discharged from the hospital under Alexander’s personal protection. He had moved her to a secure high-rise apartment downtown, equipped with state-of-the-art security and a fresh supply of modern medical tech, including a top-of-the-line insulin pump that communicated directly with her phone.
The scandal had exploded across the national news. Headlines read: SOCIETY WEDDING OF THE CENTURY TURNS INTO POISON PLOT and BLACKWOOD DYNASTY UNRAVELS.
Sitting on the balcony of the apartment, looking over the glowing city skyline, Elena felt a quiet sense of peace she hadn't known in years. Alexander walked out onto the balcony, carrying two cups of steaming tea—her favorite chamomile, perfectly sweetened with low-glycemic stevia.
"You remembered," she said, taking the cup with a warm smile.
"I make it my business to remember details about important people," Alexander replied softly, leaning against the railing beside her.
"What happens now?" she asked. "Evelyn’s legal team is claiming the vial found at the scene belonged to me—that I brought it to frame her."
Alexander chuckled, a dark, rich sound. "They can claim whatever they want. The state forensic lab matched the residue in the vial to a private chemical laboratory owned by a shell company in the Cayman Islands. Guess who owns eighty percent of that shell company?"
"Evelyn," Elena said.
"Evelyn," Alexander confirmed. "And today, we hit them where it hurts even more. The Department of Justice filed an asset freeze against the entire Blackwood Group. Every bank account, every mansion, every private jet—frozen pending federal trial."
Suddenly, Elena’s phone rang. The screen displayed Grant’s name.
She looked at Alexander. He nodded gently. "Answer it. Let’s hear what the coward wants."
Elena tapped the speaker button. "Hello, Grant."
"Elena!" Grant’s frantic voice exploded through the speaker. "Thank God you picked up! Look, everything is falling apart! My mother is in a federal holding cell, Julian’s political campaign is dead, and the bank locked our accounts! You have to stop this!"
"I didn't do this, Grant. Your mother's criminal actions did," Elena said calmly.
"You can fix it!" Grant pleaded, his tone sickeningly desperate. "Tell the press you made a mistake! Tell them it was an allergic reaction! Elena, I love you! We can still get married! We can leave the country and start over!"
Elena felt a profound wave of disgust. She remembered how he had turned his head away while his mother tore her pump from her flesh.
"Grant," she said, her voice dropping into an iceberg-cold tone. "The only mistake I made was believing you were half the man you pretended to be. Never call me again."
She hung up and immediately blocked his number.
Alexander smiled, admiration gleaming in his grey eyes. "That was poetic."
"It was necessary," Elena said, setting her phone down. She turned to Alexander, looking deeply into his eyes. "Why are you doing all this for me, Alexander? It’s clearly more than just your job."
May you like
Alexander paused, the wind ruffling his dark hair. He stepped closer, reaching out to gently touch the side of her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone.
"Because the moment I saw you standing up to that monster with your hands shaking and your heart breaking," he said softly, "I knew you were the strongest person in that room. And I made a promise to myself that no one would ever hurt you again."
