His Heaven Novel PDF Free Download

1. At Auction

The auction hall glowed under soft golden lights, murmurs of old money and new power filling the air like perfume. Crystal glasses clinked faintly with champagne, and the walls were lined with high-security frames displaying pieces worth small fortunes.

A Man stood near the back, an island of composed stillness in a sea of curated chaos. The tailored black suit clung to his tall frame like armor. CEO of one of the world’s most powerful conglomerates, he was known for his ruthless efficiency, brutal business acumen, and a cold demeanor that had earned him the nickname “The Phantom Wolf” in tabloids.

He hated public events like this. But there was one piece he wanted. A painting—untitled, unsigned, but unmistakably valuable. Raw, emotional strokes. Broken color. He didn’t need it for the money—it simply spoke to something buried deep inside him, something he didn’t name

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

**saw someone**

She wasn’t dressed like the others. No glittering gown, no calculated allure. She wore an oversized coat, a simple high ponytail, and thick-rimmed glasses that seemed too large for her face. She wandered the gallery like she didn’t belong—but didn’t care either. She paused in front of one sculpture tucked into the far corner, its bronze limbs bent in torment

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

**He watched her lips move** (Speaking to the sculpture?)

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

**Curiously he stepped closer, silent as a shadow**

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

You poor thing ☹️**she whispered to the sculpture, her voice laced with empathy**

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

They’ve trapped you under these lights like a zoo animal

He hadn’t expected to hear something so strange—and oddly poetic—at an event like this

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

**His Eyebrow's lifted**

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

Do you always talk to inanimate objects?

His voice was quiet, rich, laced with cool amusement.

She turned slightly, surprised but not embarrassed. Her eyes met his—curious, intelligent, completely unbothered

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

Only the lonely ones

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

They deserve better company than the people here.

Rafael stared. Not at her appearance, but her presence. There was no fake polish, no calculated charm. Just authenticity. Something so rare in his world, it felt almost jarring.

Most people wilted beneath his gaze or tried to impress him. She did neither

He could’ve said something clever. Instead, he stood silently, his mask unshifting

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

Intresting perspective **Neutral voice**

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

Thanks**she replied, turning her attention back to the sculpture**

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

You are?

He didn’t answer. That strange pull in his chest—foreign and unwelcome—tightened slightly. Instead, he nodded once, then walked away, disappearing into the crowd

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

**watched him go with tilted face**

Something about him felt...off. Controlled. Too perfect on the outside, too silent inside. Like a character she hadn’t written yet.

She smiled to herself and turned back to the sculpture, unaware that she’d just rattled the untouchable Rafael Blackwood

Rafael returned to his private lounge balcony overlooking the floor. He slipped a hand into his pocket, thumb brushing the cool silver of his watch. It was an unconscious habit—one he only did when he was unsettled.

The girl hadn’t recognized him. That was rare. Even rarer? He hadn’t felt bored in her presence. There was something refreshing about her. Like walking into a quiet storm

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

**standing lazily leaning against window**

After pondering sometime, he called his assistant

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

Find out about her

That's it, no more word only command. His assistant understood him and start investigate about the girl

___________

Later, when the winning bid for the abstract painting was announced—under the anonymous name BlackwoodCorp

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

**Lifted an eyebrow, impressed**

She didn’t know that the man who had quietly captured her attention had just bought the painting for ten times its value, and was still thinking about the girl in the oversized coat who whispered to bronze statues.

And Rafael? He’d went away with a half-smile no one would ever see. Not because of the painting

Because of her

Adams/Ml assistant

**Eye blink in surprise**

Adams/Ml assistant

(Did sir just smile ?)

Adams/Ml assistant

(Is it because of that girl?)

Adams/Ml assistant

*Lip curl into smile*

Adams/Ml assistant

(I should inform Elder master about this)

__________________________

Rafeal Blackwood 28 yrs old

Profession: CEO of Blackwood International, a powerful multinational conglomerate dealing in tech, defense, luxury, and media. Known for building empires and crushing competitors, Rafael is both feared and admired across boardrooms worldwide. Personality: Cold, enigmatic, and hyper-intelligent. Rafael is a man who lives behind a polished mask—calculating and composed in every move. He trusts very few, prefers silence over small talk, and exudes an intimidating charisma. His emotions are deeply buried, and he controls every aspect of his life with brutal precision. But under the ice is a man haunted by loneliness, obsession, and a yearning for something genuine. Likes: Abstract, emotionally raw art, Midnight drives in complete silence, Precision, efficiency, and order, People who don’t try to impress him, Psychological thrillers and old noir films Dislikes:Pretentiousness and flattery, Public attention, Being touched without consent, Being emotionally vulnerable

Lorraine Winifred 23 yrs old

Profession: A secretive best-selling writer and top-earning comic artist under the pseudonym Rae Win. Known for her dark, layered storytelling and breathtaking visual art, her work blends psychological realism with fantasy. Despite her fame online, her real identity is a well-kept secret. Personality: Creative, witty, and quietly rebellious. Lorraine is a curious soul with a vivid imagination and a deep empathy for broken things. She doesn’t fit into conventional spaces and doesn’t try to. While she’s socially charming when needed, she often prefers solitude and gets easily overwhelmed by crowds. She hides her success behind a low-key lifestyle and tends to keep people at arm’s length. Likes: Art galleries and hidden museums Rainy days with black coffee and sketchbooks Unfiltered conversations Classic literature and vintage notebooks People who are unknowingly poetic

Adams/Assistant 25 yrs old

Profession - Assistant of Rafeal personality - loyal to his work, hardworking, stubborn,

2. Concern about Rafeal's marriage

The echo of his polished shoes against the marble floor was the only sound in the cavernous Blackwood mansion as Rafael stepped through the double doors. He shrugged off his suit jacket and handed it to a waiting housekeeper, loosening the stiff collar around his neck. The air was still, heavy with the kind of silence only extreme wealth could afford—luxurious, vast, and cold.

But tonight, something was different.

He sensed it before he saw it. The faint scent of old books and vintage tobacco lingered in the air—a scent that never came from him.

"Back early from the auction,” came a gravelly voice from the lounge

Rafael glanced to the side and found his grandfather seated in one of the worn leather chairs by the fireplace, a half-full glass of whisky in hand. The flames cast a warm, flickering glow across his weathered face. Elias Blackwood was a man of rare words but strong opinions. He had built the original foundation of Blackwood International with blood and bone before Rafael took it to impossible heights.

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

**Walked in, silent as always, and poured himself a drink without asking**

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

Didn’t expect to see you here**said mildly**

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

I Had a feeling you’d be in one of your thoughtful moods tonight**said sipping his whisky**

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

And you know I don’t like talking to walls

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

**Smirked faintly and took the chair opposite him, long legs crossed, posture relaxed**

There was a beat of silence before Elias leaned forward.

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

I saw the press. Another hostile acquisition. Clean. Efficient. Ruthless

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

**Not unproud**But all this... it’s not everything, Rafa

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

........

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

You’re 28. You’ve built an empire. And yet you come home to this—empty halls and business reports. When will you start thinking about settling down? About having something that isn’t built from contracts and control.

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

**He Took a sip of whisky, expression unreadable**

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

I’m not interested in a business merger disguised as a marriage**he said flatly**You know that.

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

That's not what I am suggesting

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

I don’t care about some society girl or legacy alliance. I’m asking if there’s someone. Someone you actually see yourself with

For a moment, Rafael didn’t answer

Then he thought of her-- Lorraine

The girl with messy hair and oversized glasses, whispering to sculptures like they were old friends. He didn’t even know her full name at the time, but her words had echoed in his mind all night. Something about the quiet defiance in her voice, the unapologetic way she existed in a world that didn’t deserve her—it stuck

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

**Uninvited, his lips curved into a subtle smile**

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

**Raised a thick, grizzled brow** Did you just smile?

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

**He blinked**No

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

You did**said, squinting at him**

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

That wasn’t a corporate smirk. That was a geniune smile

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

Don’t be dramatic

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

God help us** he muttered, shaking his head with a laugh** There’s a woman, isn’t there?

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

She’s… interesting**He admitted, voice almost too quiet to hear**

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

Unusual. I’ve never met someone who spoke the way she did. She wasn’t trying to charm anyone. She just was.

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

**Leaned back in his chair, amused**That sounds dangerously close to admiration

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

**Gave him a side glance**Don’t get hopeful. I don’t even know her name.

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

That’s fixable. You’ve found people with less information before

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

That’s usually for hostile takeovers, not conversations

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

Still, same skillset** He said with a smirk**

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

It’s time to use that power of yours for something other than destruction

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

**Hummed**

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

I will take it as yes **swirl his wine glass**

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

**chuckled lightly**

They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the fire crackle between them. It was rare—this kind of peace. Not the calculated calm of a boardroom, but the warm, unspoken understanding between two men cut from the same stone.

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

You ever regret it?

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

Regret what?

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

Building all of this. Losing people along the way

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

**He sighed Eyes distant** Sometimes. But not always. I lost people, yes. But the ones that mattered—your grandmother, your parents—they were worth more than all the rest. You can build the world, Rafa, but it won’t mean anything if you don’t have someone to come home to

Rafael nodded once, the words sinking deeper than he let on

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

Anyway ** He said, rising slowly with the creak of old joints** when you do find her—this mysterious woman who made you smile—just make sure you don’t push her away before she even knows what you are

Rafeal Blackwood/Ml

I’ll think about it **he murmured**

Elias Blackwood/Ml Grandfather

Don’t think too long ** replied, patting his shoulder** She might not wait forever.

As the old man walked away, Rafael remained seated, eyes flickering toward the shadows dancing along the walls

For once, the silence around him didn’t feel so empty

It felt like the beginning of something he hadn’t let himself hope for in a long time

_______________________

Elias Blackwood (74 yrs old)

A man who once built an empire with calloused hands and a sharp mind, Elias Blackwood is the revered patriarch of the Blackwood family. Now in his early eighties, Elias exudes timeless dignity, with sharp gray eyes that miss nothing and a voice that still commands boardrooms and family dinners alike. A self-made industrialist in his youth, Elias laid the foundation of the Blackwood conglomerate before passing the reins to his grandson, Rafeal. Unlike the cold pragmatism of modern tycoons, Elias believes in legacy, loyalty, and love—principles that he fears Rafeal is losing sight of. Though firm and sometimes traditional, Elias possesses a dry wit and hidden warmth. He’s the only one who can tease Rafeal and live to tell the tale. Despite his wealth, he leads a relatively simple life at the family estate, tending to old books, vintage chessboards, and memories of his late wife, whom he loved dearly. He’s deeply concerned about Rafeal’s emotional solitude and often nudges him toward settling down—not for the sake of heirs, but because he wants his grandson to experience a love that’s real, not strategic. Elias is the quiet force behind many turning points, his wisdom shaping more than just the Blackwood business—but the heart of the man who will one day lead it fully.

3. Lorraine

Lorraine stepped out of the cab and into the cool night air, the earthy scent of damp soil and blooming jasmine wrapping around her like a welcome-home embrace. Her small countryside cottage stood a few miles outside the city—modest, charming, and completely hers. She had bought it two years ago with her first major royalty check, choosing peace over luxury, nature over noise.

As she approached the gate, a familiar soft meow greeted her. A chubby cat with mismatched eyes trotted over, tail high and purring like a tiny motor.

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

There you are bubble

She smiled, scooping him up and nuzzling her face into his fur.

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

Bubble/Fl Cat

Meow

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

Did you guard the garden again while I was gone?

The garden was her pride and therapy. Rows of vibrant vegetables stretched behind the cottage—carrots, kale, tomatoes, and even bell peppers. Fruit trees lined one side, and a scatter of wildflowers danced beneath them, painting the edges of her world in color.

Inside, the cottage was cozy and lived-in. A couch with faded cushions, books stacked in every corner, and art supplies littered across a sturdy wooden table. Watercolors, sketchpads, and graphic tablets lay like remnants of her inner world.

She fed Bubble, humming softly as he happily dug into his meal, then changed into a loose shirt and soft cotton shorts. After a quick rinse, she tied her hair up and began her nightly chores—watering the plants, wiping down surfaces, and preparing a simple dinner of roasted vegetables and herb rice.

Dinner was quiet, like most nights. But tonight, her thoughts drifted back to the man at the auction

Rafeal

He hadn’t introduced himself, but the weight of his presence had lingered long after he walked away. He wasn’t handsome in a conventional way—but there was something still and piercing about him. Like he was always watching the world from behind some invisible glass

And yet… he listened to her. Without interrupting. Without laughing

She sipped her water, brushing a stray curl from her cheek

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

Who even was that man?**she whispered to herself**

Bubble/Fl Cat

Meow**curling up at her feet**

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

**smiled faintly**

Already sketching him in her mind—quiet eyes, sharp jaw, and a silence that said more than words ever could

Lorraine went to her bedroom for rest leaving bubble in her small house

At bedroom

She started to think about why she went to Auction

Lorraine Winifred never planned to attend the auction that night. She preferred to stay behind the scenes, cloaked in anonymity, quietly creating worlds through ink and dialogue. But when her close friend and art mentor, Professor Ansel Merrick, fell ill with the flu just hours before he was set to present a restoration report on a rare bronze sculpture at the auction, he called Lorraine in a panic.

Ansel Merrick/Fl Mentor

You’re the only one I trust with this piece **he croaked over the phone**

Ansel Merrick/Fl Mentor

Just go, hand in the report, answer basic questions, and disappear before anyone tries to drag you into small talk.”

Lorraine groaned, but agreed. She owed the professor too much to say no. He’d been the first to encourage her illustrations, long before her secret identity as the wildly successful comic artist 'RaeWin' had made her a fortune. More importantly, she adored the sculpture—a twisted, haunting figure that had inspired one of her most emotionally raw comic panels

She arrived wearing her favorite oversized trench coat, hair pulled back messily, glasses slightly fogged from the sudden shift from cold night to warm gallery. She expected to drop off the report, give a quick explanation to the curator, and leave unnoticed

But then she saw the sculpture under harsh lighting, its anguish lost among glittering gowns and hollow admiration. Her empathy stirred, and she couldn’t help whispering to it like an old friend

That’s when he appeared. Cold voice. Sharp gaze. Richer than everyone else in the room combined. He wasn’t just looking at her—he was studying her

She had no idea who Rafael Blackwood was. But something about him felt both dangerous and fascinating

And, unknowingly, she had just stepped into the orbit of a man whose world rarely let people walk back out

Lorraine was curled up on her bed, sketchbook in hand, when her phone buzzed. Seeing Ansel Merrick flash across the screen, she answered with a soft smile.

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

Hello📞

Ansel Merrick/Fl Mentor

Well? **his raspy voice crackled**Did you survive the sharks?

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

**She chuckled**Barely. I handed in the report, everything happen peacefully

Ansel Merrick/Fl Mentor

**he Sighed in relief**You did good, kid. Remind me to never get sick again

Lorraine Winifred/Fl

Noted**she teased**

__________________

Ansel Merrick/Fl Mentor and close friend 38 yrs old

Profession: Renowned Art Historian, Restoration Expert, and Professor at a prestigious fine arts institute. He specializes in ancient sculptures and forgotten artifacts, often called upon by museums and collectors around the world for his sharp eye and deep knowledge. Personality: Ansel is a brilliant yet eccentric man in his early thirtes, with Stern face, black-streaked hair, and glasses that are always slipping down his nose. He has the soul of an artist and the mind of a scholar. Known for his dry humor, theatrical mannerisms, and endearing grumpiness, he’s a mentor who challenges his students with tough love and fiercely protects the ones he believes in.

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