Chapter 1
The Grand Banquet Hall buzzed with energy, a sea of elegant men and women mingling, while a golden chandelier and a grand crystal fixture illuminated the opulence fitting for Lady Isadora Blackwood, the quintessential decaying capitalist. Among the crowd were elite figures in tailored suits, most of whom clustered around Old Lord Malvin Blackwood, fawning over him with slick, practiced smiles and nervous laughter, desperate not to offend him on this, his 80th birthday. Sir Edmund Blackwood observed from a distance. Today, Lady Isadora Blackwood spared no expense to throw a lavish celebration to flatter her aging father-in-law. When it was his turn to propose a toast, Edmund found himself a bit tipsy after several rounds of drinks pressed upon him. Settling back into his chair, his friend, Lord Jasper Thorne, leaned in and whispered, “Look over at 8 o'clock. There's a girl in a royal blue gown.” Edmund glanced in the direction Jasper indicated. His cold gaze landed on a girl sitting upright; her slightly curled chestnut hair obscured most of her face. Even from afar, he could see her luminescent skin and elegantly long neck, reminiscent of a swan. He watched, somewhat mesmerized, until their eyes met, and a flicker of surprise passed between them. Then she turned away, seemingly disgusted. Lord Jasper, noticing the tension, took another sip of champagne. “What’s the deal? The two of you looked like you were about to spark a fire." Edmund scoffed softly, remaining silent. Yet Jasper couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something deeper behind Edmund's gaze. Peering back at the girl, he couldn’t help but admire her side profile; it was breathtaking. Standing, she revealed a slender form with long, straight legs, the blue gown glowing against her snowy skin. Jasper, who had been around beautiful women all his life, was utterly captivated; this girl had an undeniable allure with her stunning figure and that extraordinary face—both delicate and enchanting. Catching a glimpse of Jasper's stare, Edmund remarked coolly, “Stop looking. She’s not as great as you think.” “Are you kidding me? She’s stunning—everything you could want: poise, figure, and beauty.” Edmund studied him for a moment, complex emotions flickering across his face before he returned his attention forward. Jasper felt the tension in the air, unsure if he’d crossed a line. His gaze followed the girl, now striding toward the stage. Suddenly, Jasper gasped, “Wait… this isn’t some kind of joke, right?” As it turned out, the girl he had just been admiring was none other than Sir Edmund Blackwood’s half-sister, Lady Eliza Blackwood. The secrets of the high society were indeed both fascinating and shocking. Calmly sipping from his glass, Edmund sat with his legs crossed, polished shoes rocking gently as Cedric Hawke rested a hand on his knee, showing off the gleaming cufflinks peeking from his shirt. With a stoic gaze, Edmund absorbed the surrounding commotion while on stage, Lady Isadora introduced the previously hidden gem of the Blackwood Estate: her illegitimate daughter, Lady Eliza Blackwood. Gasps rippled through the crowd, an overwhelming mix of astonishment and intrigue. Lady Isadora had hidden this for years, choosing now, of all times, to reveal her daughter at Old Lord Malvin’s grand celebration. It was clear to everyone just how fond Lady Isadora was of this striking girl, elevated even among the elite guests. Jasper, like the rest, was struck by the revelation. Just minutes ago, he and Sir Edmund had been talking about this beautiful girl, who seemed crafted by the hands of a master sculptor, her features combining into a masterpiece. Edmund locked eyes with Lady Eliza amidst the swirling light of the chandelier. The warm glow danced around her, setting her apart as if she stood within a starlit galaxy. With her proud posture and regal demeanor, she radiated authority—she was a princess in her own right. Edmund studied her intently, as if the crowd around them had faded away. “Lady Eliza Blackwood,” he murmured, her name slipping from his lips like a secret whisper. Jasper, watching Edmund's calm demeanor, found it perplexing. Shouldn’t the revelation of a half-sister incite concern in his friend? Yet he found himself enchanted, turning to Edmund. “Can you introduce me to her?” “You’re thinking too much. She’s a rose with thorns. She won’t be interested in you.” Edmund smiled faintly, a slight upturn of his lips that hinted at both amusement and intrigue. He directed his attention back to the stage, intrigued by the girl who had captivated not just him, but everyone around her.
Chapter 2
Lady Eliza Blackwood hated this rowdy event. When her half-sister, Lady Isadora Blackwood, called her to the stage, it was as if she were a monkey on display in a zoo. If it weren't for her mother, Mistress Arabella Grey, pleading with her to attend, Lady Eliza would have likely stayed home. Yes, she was a love child, but there was no reason to let others gawk at her in this way. Lady Isadora and Mistress Arabella had once been in love, but Lady Isadora had chosen to end things to pursue her career, leaving behind the unassuming Mistress Arabella. The hallmark of Mistress Arabella was her unwavering loyalty; she never forgot Lady Isadora, even years later when she sought a translation job with the Blackwood Consortium. Their old flame reignited, and when Sir Edmund Blackwood was just five years old, Lady Eliza was born. Yet, at that time, Lady Isadora’s legitimate wife was still alive. Lady Isadora purchased a villa in the Kingdom of Mirthwood, setting up a life for the two of them there. Lady Eliza's feelings toward Lady Isadora were complicated, hovering somewhere between indifference and recognition; after all, the sophisticated, silver-haired man was her father. Seeing her mother’s love was often uncomfortable for Lady Eliza. Mistress Arabella lived in quiet devotion to Lady Isadora for years until Lady Isadora's wife passed away when Lady Eliza turned thirteen. Lady Isadora had long wanted to bring them home to Blackwood Estate, but he hadn't been powerful enough until now. Today, he was determined to announce his lover and illegitimate daughter to the world. In their social circle, a man having a mistress was hardly scandalous. In fact, wealthy men commonly had flings. Lady Isadora, being the handsome man he was, was no exception. Earlier, while washing her hands in the restrooms, Lady Eliza had overheard a couple of women gossiping. Any public restroom was a hotbed of chatter, the sound of running water blending with their incessant murmurs. “She’s just an illegitimate child, but she certainly has an attitude. Look at her!” one sneered. “I’ve heard her mother begged Sir Edmund to acknowledge her so they could have a place at Blackwood Estate," another added. “Illegitimate is still illegitimate; acting all high and mighty will get her nowhere.” Some women loved to gossip, tearing down what they couldn’t have to feel better about themselves. Just as the chatter escalated, the restroom door swung open, and Lady Eliza stepped out. She lazily glanced at the group, her presence silencing them all. Their expressions morphed into ones as sour as if they’d swallowed a fly. Not one to engage in their petty remarks, Lady Eliza calmly washed her hands. As she adjusted her outfit, she finally lifted her gaze, looking at the women with a hint of a smirk. “At least I’m a Blackwood. How many people would dream of being part of this family? Unlike you, who will never step foot in Blackwood Estate.” With her lips curling into a smile and her eyes slightly tilting upward, she added, “Take some time to elevate yourselves. Spreading rumors won’t make you any better.” After drying her hands, her fair skin glimmered under the bathroom lights, and she picked up her small handbag, sauntering out with purpose. The gossipers, though brazen in their words, wouldn’t dare insult her to her face again. Lady Eliza carried the weight of the Blackwood name, and it was clear that nothing would come of their attempts to undermine her. Feeling triumphant, Lady Eliza walked down the long corridor, the soft amber lights casting a warm glow overhead. Suddenly, a hand grabbed her wrist, pulling her into a private parlor before she could protest. A passionate kiss landed on her lips before she could react. “Don’t move,” a deep voice warned, laced with a hint of menace. “Or I’ll have to show you exactly how much I want you right here.”
Chapter 3
Lady Eliza Blackwood’s slender back was brutally pressed against the intricately carved wooden door by the strong man before her. The small engravings on the door bit into her skin, causing a sharp, burning pain. She raised her delicate arms to push him away, but the man was towering and solid, his entire weight bearing down on her. She appeared nearly dwarfed and hidden behind him, his shadow engulfing her completely. “Cedric, get off me!” Lady Eliza Blackwood commanded defiantly, but her strength was no match against his. The man’s hot breath sprayed against her neck, his sharp teeth grazing her earlobe. “Lady Eliza Blackwood, I dreamt of you last night,” he murmured. Eliza shivered momentarily, memories flickering in her mind. Sir Edmund Blackwood, her deeply deranged brother, had captured her hands, twisting them behind her back, his lips slowly trailing downwards. Both of them were breathing heavily, the dark setting heightening their sensitivity. Sir Edmund grasped Eliza’s breast, his hand burning hot against her soft flesh, gently but deliberately squeezing and kneading her. “Do you want to hear what I dreamt?” he asked. “I don’t want to know, Sir Edmund,” Eliza retorted. “You better let me go.” Her breasts ached as he played with them, even causing a sharp pain as he tugged on her nipples. Eliza struggled, causing her sapphire-blue slip dress to slide down, baring her smooth, glowing shoulders. Edmund’s hand caressed her shoulder before planting a hot kiss there. Eliza felt utterly humiliated, as helpless as a piece of meat on a butcher’s block. Edmund’s voice lingered by her ear, “I dreamt of this…” While he spoke, his hand slipped beneath her dress, the silk fabric gliding smoothly over her skin. He raised her slender leg, resting it against his hip. His coarse fingers slid over her, causing shivers on her skin. Despite her unwillingness, her body reacted to Sir Edmund's touch, an embarrassing amount of moisture gathering instantly. “Sir Edmund, let me go,” she pleaded again. Ignoring her, Sir Edmund chuckled softly, his long fingers digging deeper, massaging her soft mound already wet with her arousal. “So much water,” he remarked. “Are you waiting for me to fuck you?” Eliza despised her body’s response. Though her mind screamed no, her body betrayed her, enjoying Edmund's touch, the moisture soaking through her thin underwear. She threw her head back, shaking it violently, cold tears sliding down her cheeks. “You brute, you’re worse than an animal!” “Oh? Worse than an animal?” he taunted, gripping her chin and forcing his tongue into her mouth, tangling with hers aggressively. Her tongue grew numb under the forceful invasion. "Don't expect me to let you go just yet," he growled, plunging his tongue deeper, savoring every part of her mouth. Eliza’s breath grew ragged, her weakened arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. His fingers tortured her tender clit mercilessly, his taunts relentless, “Is this what you meant by worse than an animal?” Each time he asked, his grip tightened on her fragile clit. His fingers worked her ruthlessly until Eliza's entire body started to tremble. With moisture glistening on his fingers, Lady Eliza’s mind went blank, but she instinctively retorted, “You vile scoundrel. You’re morally bankrupt. Don’t touch me.” Sir Edmund wasn’t the least bit affected. His lips curved into a victorious smile as he scooped her up and quickly dropped her onto the pristine, soft bed. He loomed over her, his massive, searing body pressing down. “Fine, let me show you what it means to be worse than an animal. Watch closely.”
Chapter 4
Sir Edmund Blackwood wasn't just saying things; his heated palm grasped her breast, slowly kneading and teasing, his touch rough yet intentional. His hand felt like sandpaper, scraping over her skin. Lady Eliza Blackwood, trained in the art of dance, had always held herself to the highest standards regarding her physique. She was mindful of her diet, maintaining slender limbs, a willowy waist that Sir Edmund could encircle with one hand, and a swanlike neck that stood proudly. Exuding an air of haughtiness, she stirred a relentless desire within Sir Edmund. Though her breasts were not particularly large, their texture was perfect—soft, fragrant, and sweetly aromatic. His hands felt as if they were igniting, rubbing her taut nipples, which stiffened under his firm grip. Lady Eliza was left utterly dazed by his torment. She wanted to resist, but her body, drained of willpower, lay pliant and powerless. She should have known Sir Edmund wouldn't let her go so easily. Lady Eliza had been careless. Her skin was as cool as a mountain spring, but Sir Edmund's searing kisses alternated between light and heavy, setting her alight. “Mmm… please, let me go, Cedric…” Sir Edmund silenced her incessant pleas with a kiss. Her lips were soft and lush, like a delicate pastry infused with osmanthus blossoms, filling his mouth with their exquisite flavor. His tongue entwined with hers, savoring her taste leisurely. His hand moved to the hem of her silk gown, removing it in swift, fluid motions. The room's amber light cast a warm glow over them, heightening the intimate atmosphere. Though Lady Eliza's mind rebelled, her body responded instinctively. Sir Edmund’s hands roved over her, his rough fingers finding her tender mound. Pressing down, he felt her wetness flow like a bubbling spring. “Ah… please, Cedric…” Lady Eliza hated herself in these moments, feeling like Sir Edmund's plaything, ensnared in his grasp. Four years ago, it had been the same. He dominated her entirely, thrusting his thick length into her until she begged for mercy. Roughly removing his own clothes, he chuckled lightly. “Eliza, did you really think you could escape my grasp?” Tugging off his expensive tie, he bound her pale wrists, looping the fabric tightly and pulling her arms above her head. Icy tears slipped from the corners of her eyes as she trembled with fury, wanting to curse him but too weak to speak, glaring at him instead. “You're shameless, Edmund, taking your own sister. Beast.” “Sister? I never acknowledged you as such,” he sneered, his lips curving into a cruel smile. His fingers parted her moist folds, playing with her clit, squeezing the sensitive nub. Lady Eliza shivered with pleasure, biting her lip to stifle her shameful moans. Refusing to let her silence him, Sir Edmund pinched her clit harder, her wetness increasing until her folds were drenched. “Mmm… ah…” Releasing her, he guided his swollen member to her entrance, thrusting into her with force.
Chapter 5
Lady Eliza Blackwood's body was soft and supple, her body clenching tightly around Sir Edmund Blackwood's member, creating a powerful suction that made it difficult for him to move. He was more aroused than ever, and yet he seemed unable to fully enter or withdraw. With a sudden thrust, Sir Edmund Blackwood plunged into Lady Eliza Blackwood, her body reacting instinctively. Her tight, narrow canal gripped and squeezed his heated shaft. He was deeply lost in his lust, the sensation of finally reuniting with her after so long overwhelming him. "Whack!" His large hand landed on her pale, firm buttocks with a resounding smack. Lady Eliza Blackwood felt a rush of wetness and hated herself for it, despising how her body responded to his touch. Sir Edmund Blackwood leaned in close, his deep voice floating in her ear, teasing her like a feather. "Cedric Hawke's giving a bit of a fight, isn't he? Be careful, it might hurt more otherwise." Lady Eliza Blackwood lacked the strength to resist his torment. Her eyes locked onto his, her expression unable to hide the mix of defiance and desire. Her gaze, though intended to be one of anger, seemed to him more like a provocative invitation. Sir Edmund Blackwood grasped her trembling breasts, his fingers sinking into her tender flesh as it spilled between them—lewd and captivating. Lifting her leg and hooking it around his waist, he began to thrust slowly, causing Lady Eliza Blackwood to dig her nails into his arm, biting her lip to stifle her moans. Even as fury burned within her, she couldn't control the physical reactions. He was her half-brother, yet he subjected her to such depraved acts. The force of his thrusts made her feel as if her bones were disintegrating. Her slim legs trembled in the dim light, seeming almost luminescent. Sir Edmund Blackwood's thick shaft relentlessly pushed through her soft folds, his enormous head grinding against the depths of her hidden core, making him reluctant to pull out. Thrusting with determination, Lady Eliza Blackwood clenched the sheet tightly, trying to combat the shameful rush of pleasure. Despite herself, her body betrayed her true feelings. She disliked the pleasure, but there was no denying her body's response—flowing and unyielding. Sir Edmund Blackwood's powerful strokes silenced her usually loud protests. He bent her legs into an M shape, the two of them intimately connected. Pausing for a moment, he brought his fingers together, pinching her swollen, crimson clit. Lady Eliza Blackwood's body shivered with delight, the sensations ebbing and flowing, driving her to the edge time and again. Sir Edmund Blackwood's fingers worked with malevolent intent, causing her to reach a peak, her heartbeat quickening inexplicably. Laughing softly, he remarked, "Isn't that nice? Why won't you scream for me?" And despite her desire to resist, a soft moan escaped her lips, quiet and kittenish as though she were a small street cat being cuddled. His rhythm never faltered, his grip on her clit never loosening. Finally, the sensation became too much. Her mind blanked, and she cried out instinctively, her voice filled with an unexpected mixture of despair and ecstasy.
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