Chapter 4 - The Shadows of Highlandtown
For three days, the Calder estate became a fortress locked away from the world.
Nora remained in the master bedroom, sleeping for long stretches under warm blankets, waking only to drink warm broth fed to her by her brother or Dr. Harrison.
Caleb refused to leave her side. He set up his sleeping bag right on the plush carpet beside her bed, guarding her with his dented tin box placed carefully on the nightstand.
Roman did not return to his office downtown. He conducted all business from the library, monitoring the fallout from Evelyn Sterling’s sudden disappearances.
On the fourth morning, Nora woke up to the soft sound of rain tapping against the high glass windows.
The fever had broken. Her wrists were wrapped in clean white bandages, and for the first time in ten days, her mind felt clear.
She sat up slowly, feeling the incredibly soft fabric of the duvet.
Looking around the room, her eyes widened. High wood-paneled ceilings, a massive stone fireplace crackling with warm fire, and expensive oil paintings adorned the walls. This was not the staff quarters. This was Roman Calder’s private suite.
The heavy oak door opened softly.
Roman stepped inside, carrying a tray. He was wearing a simple dark gray sweater and trousers, looking noticeably less rigid than usual. On the tray sat a white ceramic teapot, two cups, and a small plate of fresh toast.
He stopped when he saw her sitting up.
“You’re awake,” Roman said, his voice quiet.
Nora pulled the duvet up to her collarbone, suddenly self-conscious. “Mr. Calder... I... why am I in your room? I should be in the quarters, or back at my apartment—”
“Your apartment in Highlandtown was broken into three days ago,” Roman interrupted calmly, setting the tray down on the side table. “Evelyn’s men searched it for any financial documents they could use to frame you. It’s no longer safe.”
Nora’s breath hitched. “My... my mother’s voicemails... the phone on the kitchen counter—”
“Silas retrieved your belongings before they turned the place over,” Roman said, pulling a sleek, dark smartphone from his pocket and placing it beside her bed. “Your mother’s audio files have been backed up to a secure server. Nothing was lost.”
Nora stared at the phone, then looked up at the terrifying underworld boss of Baltimore.
Tears welled in her eyes, but this time they were born of overwhelming relief. “Why are you doing this, Mr. Calder? I’m just your cook.”
Roman walked over to the armchair beside her bed and sat down. He didn't answer immediately. He picked up the ceramic teapot and poured two cups of hot chamomile tea.
He held one out to her.
“Four days ago,” Roman spoke, his dark eyes meeting hers, “you lay on a frozen floor expecting to die, and your only thought was making sure a child knew you hadn't abandoned him.”
He took a sip from his own cup.
“In my world, Nora, people sell their own brothers for a parcel of land or a stack of dirty bills. I haven't seen loyalty like yours in twenty years.”
May you like
Nora took the cup, feeling the soothing warmth soak into her bandaged hands. “It’s not loyalty, Mr. Calder. It’s love. Caleb is all I have.”
“No,” Roman said softly, his voice firm and unwavering. “He isn't all you have anymore.”
