Chapter 10 - THE QUEEN OF BLACKWOOD
One year later.
The grand ballroom of Blackwood Manor was lit once again by its three magnificent crystal chandeliers. Four hundred guests—senators, foreign dignitaries, and top global executives—filled the room for the annual Blackwood Charity Gala.
At the top of the grand marble staircase stood Ronan and Ivy Blackwood.
Ivy was wearing an extraordinary emerald velvet gown that hugged her voluptuous curves, a sparkling diamond tiara resting atop her styled dark hair. She radiated regal power, confidence, and warmth.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Malcolm’s voice boomed through the ballroom microphone. "May I present the Chairman and Chairwoman of Blackwood Global... Mr. and Mrs. Ronan Blackwood!"
The ballroom erupted into standing applause.
As they walked down the grand staircase hand-in-hand, two young socialites whispered near the punch bowl.
"Look at Mrs. Blackwood," whispered one girl admiringly. "She is absolute perfection."
"She built the city’s largest children's hospital fund," added another. "Ronan looks at her like she owns his entire soul."
And she did.
Ronan leaned down as they reached the center of the ballroom, placing a warm hand on the small of Ivy’s back, pulling her close as the string orchestra began to play a soft waltz.
"Happy anniversary, my Queen," Ronan whispered into her ear, his gray eyes shining with endless devotion.
Ivy smiled, resting her head against his broad chest as they glided across the polished marble floor—the very floor where she had once bled as a maid.
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"Happy anniversary, my love," Ivy replied softly.
She looked around the grand hall, no longer an invisible servant girl hiding in the shadows, but the undisputed Queen of Blackwood Manor—loved, protected, and untouchable forever.
