Obsession His Runaway Bride (Noelle and Adrian) novel Chapter 63

Chapter 63: Spilled Tea

The delicate sound of silverware against fine china filled the grandining hall of the Blackwood estate. Carol Blackwood sat at

the head of an elegant breakfast table, surrounded by the women had been pleasant so far, the conversation was light and indulgent

high society and her so–called dear friends. The morning

The Blackwood name still carried weight, after all. Despite the whispers, despite Adrian’s mysterious disappearance, Carol remained composed and untouchable.

Or so she thought.

The illusion shattered the moment one of the women at the table gasped, her manicured fingers clutching her phone so tightly her knuckles turned white.

The reaction sent a ripple of unease through the group. Conversations died, forks hovered mid–air, and all eyes turned to her.

Carol arched a brow, setting down her teacup with precision. “What is it?” she asked coolly.

The woman hesitated, her lips parting as if struggling to form words. She swallowed, then, with trembling fingers, turned the phone so everyone could see.

The moment Carol’s gaze landed on the screen, her breath caught in her throat.

“Adrian Blackwood was SURRENDERED: Infamous Mafia Heir Declared Unfit for Prison!” 1

The air in the room seemed to vanish.

Carol’s world slowed as she stared at the headline, her heart pounding so loudly she barely heard the hushed whispers around her.

But the picture beneath it made her heart drop.

Adrian, her son, was almost unrecognizable.

He sat on a steel bench in what appeared to be a stark white holding cell. His once–magnetic presence was reduced to nothing. His face was gaunt, pale–his amber eyes vacant, unfocused, barely alive. His lips were dry and cracked .His dark hair was disheveled and unkempt. But the worst part-

He was bound.

His arms were strapped tightly against his chest in a white straightjacket, the fabric biting into his skin.

He looked drugged..

He looked insane.

Carol’s fingers twitched against the table, her perfectly manicured nails biting into her palm as she fought to keep her expression neutral. But her body betrayed her. The slight tremor in her breath, the way her shoulders stiffened, the way her blood boiled beneath her skin, betrayed her as she looked at the state of her son.

One of the women pressed play on the attached news video, and the voice of a stern police officer filled the dining hall.

“Early this morning, an anonymous source surrendered Adrian Blackwood to the authorities. Given his history, we anticipated a dangerous confrontation. However-” the man paused with a flicker of hesitation, “he was already in an unresponsive,

unstable state. He was heavily sedated, barely coherent, and given his current condition, we could not, in good conscience, place him in a standard prison facility.”

A reporter’s voice rang out over the murmurs.

“Then where is he now?”

1/3

Chapter 63. Spilled TART

+25 BONUS

The officer stood straighter, his expression unreadable.

“Adrian Blackwood has been transferred to Raeburn Isolated Psycatric Facility–an asylum designed specifically to contain high–risk individuals deemed too dangerous for regular imprisonment.”

The room erupted as reporters began shouting, cameras flashing and chaos filled the space.

“Does this mean he’s officially considered mentally unfit for trial?

“Who was the anonymous informant?”

“Is this the end of the Blackwood legacy?”

Carol’s hands clenched into fists. Her pulse roared in her ears, drowning out the whispers that had started around her.

But then-

Then came the final, crushing blow.

“Following the surrender of Adrian Blackwood, all Blackwood assets including offshore accounts, properties, and financial holdings have been seized, broken down, and distributed to the victims of their criminal empire.”

Another reporter responded, “Was it Adrian Blackwood who did all of these on his own?”

“We do not think so. It could be a vigilante. But to go against a mafia, clearly, this vigilante has his own power.”

The murmurs among the reporters grew louder as speculations buzzed.

“So you’re saying this was an orchestrated attack?” a journalist challenged, her pen scribbling furiously against her notepad.

The officer sighed, shifting slightly. “That’s what it appears to be. The surrender of Adrian Blackwood, the liquidation of the Blackwood fortune… these events were not random. Someone planned this down to the last detail.”

“But who?” another reporter pressed. “Who has the power to dismantle a mafia empire overnight?”

The officer remained silent for a beat, then finally spoke. “That is what we’re investigating now.” He cleared his throat.” However, given the scope of this operation, it is highly likely that someone very close to Adrian Blackwood holds the answers.”

The energy in the press conference shifted.

“Are you saying you’ll be going after a member of the Blackwood family?” a journalist asked.

The officer didn’t flinch. “We have no choice. Adrian Blackwood may no longer be fit to speak, but his associates–those who worked with him, those who benefited from his wealth might be able to provide insight. That includes his business partners, his allies, and most importantly-”

“His remaining family.”

Carol’s blood turned to ice.

The room felt suffocating. She could feel the shift, the subtle glances exchanged between the women at her table, the way their expressions shifted from curiosity to a subtle distance.

Then, as if on cue, one of her so–called friends dared to speak.

“Carol,” the woman murmured cautiously, placing her champagne flute down carefully. “Does this mean they’ll be questioning you?”

Carol’s fingers curled so tightly around the napkin in her lap that the fabric nearly tore.

She knew the answer.

Yes.

2/3

62 SUB 160

mup for her.

+25 BONUS

The authorius would rip apart play transaction, every business at, every Inzury he had ever indulged in. They would tear through hot pasi, direnci by connections to her son and late husband’s criminal empire, and worse they would scrutinize her perential finances, Inolding for any sign of involvement in his affairs

She had spent years ensuring she was living the life she wanted. Bir now?

Het protection and her wealth had been ripped away.

But despite the fact that there was a looming interrogation, despite the way her once loyal friends now looked at her like she was a criminal, none of that angered her more than one thing

Her wealth

Everything she had bled to build was taken.

By some bastard in the shadows who thought they could reduce her to nothing.

The sharp clatter of porcelain against marble startled the table.

Carol had slammed her teacup down with such force that a fine crack ran along its delicate surface.

The women flinched but Carol didn’t care.

Her pulse pounded violently and her face was tight with barely restrained fury.

She had clawed her way to where she was. She had sacrificed everything to maintain control. Even willing to sacrifice her own son. And now, someone had stripped it all away with the stroke of a pen? With a few paperwork tricks?

No. No, she would not allow this.

Carol inhaled deeply, straightening her posture.

Then, slowly, with a chilling smile, she picked up her napkin and dabbed the spilled tea off her fingers with practiced grace.

When she spoke, her voice was eerily composed.

“I think it’s time I had a word with my lawyers.”