The Blackwood Curse

Chapter 8

Sarah’s POV

The Blackwood Mansion loomed in the distance as the car wound its way up the private road, its towering silhouette casting a long, ominous shadow against the fading afternoon sun. The estate, a sprawling labyrinth of gothic architecture, seemed to rise from the earth itself—stone gargoyles perched ominously at each corner, their cold eyes following my every movement. Dark ivy crept up the turrets like sinister vines, and the wrought-iron gates opened with a groan that sent a shiver through me.

It was meant to feel like home. This was supposed to be the beginning of a new chapter, a life of luxury and security, with Eren by my side. But as the mansion drew closer, a tightening sensation gripped my chest. It felt less like a sanctuary and more like a tomb—a mausoleum of secrets that had yet to be unearthed.

The honeymoon had been a blur of lavish dinners, sun-drenched days on foreign beaches, and quiet nights spent in the comfort of each other’s arms. But despite the romance, something had shifted between us. The easy laughter, the stolen moments of tenderness—everything had felt increasingly strained beneath the surface. Axel’s words from earlier haunted me like a persistent echo, following me even across oceans. “He’s not who you think he is.”

What did he mean by that? And why did it feel like there was a part of me that didn’t want to know the answer?

I glanced at Eren, who sat beside me in the car. His face was the picture of calm, but his eyes… There was a wariness there now, something I hadn’t noticed before. Perhaps it was just the weight of responsibility settling on him, or maybe there was something deeper. I couldn’t tell. I had tried so hard to bury the doubts gnawing at me, but now that we were back in the mansion, they had returned with a vengeance.

As the car rolled to a stop in front of the massive stone doors, Eren opened my door and offered me his hand. His fingers brushed mine, warm and solid, but his touch did nothing to ease the growing unease that had settled like a stone in my stomach.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Blackwood,” he said, his smile easy, almost rehearsed.

I stared at him for a moment before I took his hand and stepped out of the car. “Home,” I echoed, the word tasting foreign on my tongue. Was this truly home? Or was it merely a gilded cage?

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Inside, the mansion’s entrance hall was as grand as ever, though the silence felt heavier, more oppressive. The high ceilings soared above us, the crystal chandelier overhead casting shimmering light over the polished marble floors. Portraits of Blackwood ancestors adorned the walls, their eyes following my every step as though they were silently judging me. The dark wood of the grand staircase spiraled upwards, its railing gleaming, as if the house itself was meticulously maintained to maintain its proud façade.

“Everything’s so… grand,” I murmured, my voice softer than usual. “I almost feel like I don’t belong here.”

Eren gave me a brief, reassuring smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He gestured toward the entryway where Marjorie, the housekeeper, stood waiting. “Marjorie will take care of everything. You’ll get used to it.”

Marjorie’s tight bun and pressed uniform gave her an air of strict authority, but she smiled warmly at us. “Welcome back, Mr. Blackwood. Mrs. Blackwood,” she greeted us in her usual efficient tone.

I nodded, offering a polite smile in return. “Thank you, Marjorie.”

She disappeared down the hall with our luggage, leaving me alone with Eren in the grand entry. There was something so unsettling about this place, something cold beneath the surface that I couldn’t ignore.