The Curse of Blackwood Estate

Chapter 3: The Ripple Effect

Ethan’s POV

The frantic tapping sliced through the silence, jolting me upright. I squinted against the early light and pulled back the curtain to find a cluster of crows perched on the window ledge, their beady black eyes fixed on me. One let out a piercing caw, a sound that echoed eerily in the mist-filled morning. Shadows cast by the distant hills made the room feel even colder. I waved my hands, sending the crows fluttering into the sky, their harsh calls lingering long after they disappeared into the Highland fog.

I dressed quickly, scowling as I noticed a faint, earthy scent clinging to my clothes. The island’s dampness seemed to seep into everything. My phone buzzed, breaking through my thoughts. Property Incident Reports. The messages filled my inbox, each new alert bringing with it another issue, another inexplicable disaster that seemed to be targeting my properties.

By the time I reached the kitchen, my mood was already sour. I poured myself a coffee, its bitter scent mixing with the earthy aroma that always seemed to linger in Nana’s house.

“Oh, Ethan,” Nana started, her voice soft, yet laced with concern. “Lily’s not here yet. She usually brings the bread and eggs by now, but today…”

“She’s probably still sulking,” I muttered, irritation sharpening my tone. “She’ll get over it.” Nana gave me a look, her hazel eyes full of gentle reprimand.

“You shouldn’t push people so far, Ethan,” she murmured. “Especially someone like Lily. Even a cheerful soul has its limits.”

I huffed, rolling my eyes. “Maybe she’s gone off to hex my bank account,” I said, the sarcasm veiling the strange unease I couldn’t shake.

A loud ring sliced through the conversation. I glanced at the screen, and my mood darkened further—Connor Grayson.

“Grayson,” I answered, not bothering to mask my irritation.

Connor’s smooth, mocking tone drifted through the line. “I heard you’ve had a rough day. Harbor Heights and Northwind Towers, hmm? Shame about those setbacks. Hope it doesn’t hurt your reputation too much.”

I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to slam the phone down. “Save your fake concern, Connor. I know you’re behind this.

He chuckled, a sound that scraped over my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “Paranoid, are we? Better keep it together, Ethan. Wouldn’t want you cracking under pressure.”

“Don’t worry about me,” I snapped. “Just worry about keeping up. You’ve never managed that.” I ended the call, the anger simmering under my skin, boiling over.

“Everything alright, dear?” Nana’s concerned voice stirred me.

“No, Nana. It’s not. My properties seem to be under some sort of unexplained attack.” I paced, my hand running through my hair, frustration surging with each step. “And I’ll tell you who’s to blame—Connor Grayson. That vulture’s been circling my properties for years, waiting for me to slip up.”

Nana tilted her head, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “Connor is sly, I’ll give you that,” she murmured, her voice almost a whisper. “But... maybe it’s someone else you wronged badly.” Her gaze lingered, a quiet warning I didn’t care to heed.

“Oh, please,” I scoffed. “This isn’t about the witch. It’s corporate sabotage. Plain and simple.”

My words were cut short by a sharp knock at the door. I opened it to find Lily standing there, a basket of fresh bread and eggs nestled in her arms. She was calm, but I caught the tension in her posture. Seeing her sparked my irritation all over again.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” I said, sarcasm thickening my words.

She set the basket on the table, her jaw tight. “Considering you fired me yesterday, I didn’t think I was expected.”

I sneered, crossing my arms. “What, can’t handle a little criticism?”

Her eyes hardened, and for the first time, I noticed the hint of steel there. “I can handle criticism. But I won’t tolerate being bullied.”

A sudden gust rattled the windows, drawing both our gazes as a vase teetered and rolled, stopping at my feet. I raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. Witchcraft?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her voice lowering. “People like you always get what’s coming to them.” She spun on her heel and strode out, her words hanging in the air. Nana’s disappointed stare only added weight to the silence.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. “She’s insufferably sunny, Nana. No one’s that genuinely cheerful—it’s unnatural.”

Nana chuckled softly. “Maybe you’re just uncomfortable with warmth, Ethan. You’ve been that way since Eleanor died.”

I ignored Nana and stomped up to my bedroom. My phone pinged with yet another message—more bad news.

“Unbelievable!” I muttered, hurling the phone against the wall. It bounced back, hitting me square in the forehead. I groaned, clutching my head as I fell back on the bed, muttering curses under my breath.

The door creaked open, and Lily peeked in, her green eyes softened with reluctant concern.

I sat up, brushing off the strange flicker of warmth her concern sparked. “I thought you left?”

“I sensed your unrest?” her voice barely above a whisper. She turned to go, but her foot caught on the edge of the rug, sending her stumbling forward. Instinctively, I reached out, catching her in my arms. She ended up against my chest, her face inches from mine.

Everything went still, the space between us charged. Her scent—a faint trace of lavender—filled my senses, disorienting me. Her cheeks flushed, and I could see the gold flecks in her green eyes. She didn’t pull away, her breath was warm against my skin, and my chest tightened, a strange warmth spreading through me as her proximity seemed to shift something inside.

“You… you need to be more careful,” I murmured, though my voice came out lower, rougher than I intended.

She swallowed, her gaze flickering to my mouth before darting back up, her eyes reflecting something unreadable. “I… I was just checking on you,” she whispered, voice barely steady.

Her fingers lingered on the fabric of my shirt. But she quickly pulled back, cheeks pink. “Sorry,” she muttered, taking a step away, her hands dropping to her sides. “I… I didn’t mean to… intrude.”

“Then don’t,” I snapped, forcing down the strange pull between us.

She hesitated at the door, her gaze softening for a split second. “Right,” she murmured, voice almost too quiet. She slipped out, leaving me in the heavy silence.

I rubbed my forehead, feeling more unsettled than I’d ever care to admit. Her touch lingered, the warmth of her hands searing into my skin as though she had left a permanent mark. Her absence left a hollow ache in me, strange and frustrating, as though something had been ripped away, but I couldn’t name what.

I stalked to the window, yanking it open for a breath of fresh air. A crow sat on the branch just outside, its beady eyes fixed on me, unblinking. A chill crept down my spine. The bird’s gaze was steady, too knowing, as though it were waiting.

I slammed the window shut, shivering despite the warmth, trying to rid myself of the unsettling feeling that something—or someone—was lurking just outside, watching from the misted edges of Glenwyck Village.