The Blackwood mansion felt like it was holding its breath, every shadow in the halls watching, every creak of the floorboards anticipating the inevitable clash. I clutched the will tightly in my hands as Damien and I entered the grand hall where the family waited. His steady presence beside me was my only anchor in the storm I knew was coming.
Victor stood near the fireplace, his posture casual but his eyes sharp and calculating. The rest of the Blackwood family sat scattered in stiff armchairs, their expressions ranging from bored indifference to thinly veiled contempt. My stepmother and half-sister were present as well, perched on a sofa with faces full of smug satisfaction, as if they believed this gathering would finally put me in my place.
But they didn't know what I held in my hands.
