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A Second Chance With Mr. Blackwood Novel Cover

A Second Chance With Mr. Blackwood

In the roaring flames of the abandoned warehouse, my skin blistered and peeled. Through the crackling fire, my sister Elara's malicious voice echoed. She told me my husband, Damien, was dead, and it was all my fault. For years, I had treated Damien like a monster. I fought him, threw tantrums, and desperately tried to escape our marriage, all because I blindly followed Elara's advice. "Remember, the harder you fight, the more disgusted he'll get." She texted me things like that, telling me to smash vases over his head and run away, claiming she was protecting me. In reality, she was poisoning my mind, stealing my valedictorian spot at university, and plotting to crawl into my billionaire husband's bed. My foolish rebellion cost me everything, ultimately leading to Damien's tragic death and my own fiery end. As the massive explosion tore my consciousness to shreds, I finally understood who truly loved me and who the real monster was. I died suffocating on my own agonizing regret, wishing I could tear Elara apart. Then, a rush of freezing air punched into my lungs. I opened my eyes to the crisp scent of cedar and mint. I was back seven years ago, on the very night our marriage was supposed to go to hell. This time, looking at Damien's flawless, unscarred face, I didn't push him away. I wrapped my arms around his neck and made a silent vow: I would make every single person who ever hurt him bleed.
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Chapter 6

Damien's arm was a steel bar crushing Giovanna's ribs. He held her pinned against his chest, refusing to let an inch of space exist between them.

"Oakhaven?" His voice was a low, dangerous growl vibrating against her back. "You are not stepping one foot outside those gates."

Giovanna felt the heavy, rapid thud of his heart against her spine. It wasn't anger. It was pure, blinding panic. His body was reacting to the physical threat of losing her.

She didn't fight him. She knew struggling would only trigger his predator instincts to lock her in a cage.

Instead, she let all the tension drain from her muscles. She slumped backward, letting him support her entire body weight.

She reached up, her small hands wrapping over the thick wrists caging her waist. She turned in his grip until she faced him. She lifted her hands and cupped his tense, rigid face.

"D, look at me," Giovanna said. Her voice was steady, calm, an anchor in his storm.

Damien's breathing was harsh. His dark eyes locked onto hers, bloodshot and wild, searching for the lie.

"I am going to Oakhaven," Giovanna explained softly, her thumbs brushing his cheekbones, "because Elara is going to be at the freshman assembly today. She stole what rightfully belongs to me, and I refuse to let her keep it." She paused, letting the words sink in. "I need to look her in the eye and take it back."

At the mention of Elara's name, the frantic panic in Damien's eyes paused. A flicker of cold calculation replaced it.

Giovanna's lips curved into a sharp, predatory smile. "I'm going to take back what belongs to me. And I'm going to crush her pride in front of the entire school."

Damien stared at her. The raw, naked ambition and thirst for revenge in her eyes was completely foreign to the fragile girl he thought he knew. It was intoxicating.

But his jaw remained locked. "And if I say no?" he rasped.

Giovanna sighed. She stepped closer, rising onto her toes. She opened her mouth and bit down hard on the sharp line of his jaw.

The sudden, sharp pain shocked Damien. He gasped, his grip on her waist loosening just a fraction.

Giovanna immediately looped her arms around his neck. She rubbed her nose against his, her breath mixing with his.

"You can send your most trusted driver," she ordered, her voice dripping with honey and absolute bossiness. "You can have your bodyguards follow me in the shadows."

She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. "But you have to let me go. Because when I come back tonight, I have a surprise for you."

The heavy, sexual promise in her words, combined with the physical weight of her body clinging to him, shattered the last of his resistance.

Damien closed his eyes. He took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing the beast inside him back into its cage.

He opened his eyes. He grabbed the back of her neck and crashed his mouth down on hers. It was a punishing, desperate kiss, branding her as his.

A minute later, he pulled back. He was breathing hard. His thumb roughly wiped the moisture from her swollen bottom lip.

He turned his head and spoke to the empty air. "Tell Ray to bring the armored Maybach around."

Victor, his personal assistant who always lingered in the shadows, materialized by the door and spoke into his radio.

Damien kept his hand on the small of her back, escorting her to the grand foyer. He personally draped a light trench coat over her shoulders.

The massive, black armored Maybach idled at the bottom of the stone steps. Ray, the driver, stood holding the rear door open.

Giovanna slid into the plush leather seat. She rolled down the tinted window and looked up at Damien standing on the steps.

"See you tonight, my dictator," she teased, blowing him a kiss.

The Maybach pulled away, tires crunching on the gravel. Damien stood frozen on the steps. He reached up, his fingers brushing the faint bite mark on his jaw. A slow, dark smile finally broke across his face.

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