Chapter 5 - THE HOUSE WITH NO WINDOWS
Roman’s “secure place” was not a house.
It was a fortress pretending to be one.
High stone walls.
Electronic gates.
Cameras everywhere.
Bullet-resistant windows.
A guard station bigger than my apartment.
I stepped out of the SUV with Titan beside me.
“This is where you live?”
“One of the places.”
“That sentence alone makes me dislike you.”
Roman shut the door.
“You disliked me before.”
“I’m consistent.”
Titan stayed glued to my leg.
Roman watched him.
“You know he used to sleep through thunderstorms.”
“He’s not afraid of the storm.”
“I know.”
That answer came quietly.
Inside, the mansion was surprisingly restrained.
Dark wood.
Books.
Almost no decoration.
No family photographs.
No ridiculous gold statues.
I was disappointed.
“I expected more marble.”
“You sound upset.”
“I had a stereotype prepared.”
Luca set up equipment in a library.
Roman’s personal physician cleaned Titan’s burns.
The dog never snapped.
But whenever a male guard came too close, his body stiffened.
Roman noticed every time.
By midnight, Luca had unlocked more files.
Bank transfers.
Employee names.
Port schedules.
Photographs.
And dozens of references to something called BLACK HARBOR.
Roman stood behind him.
“What is it?”
Luca swallowed.
“I don’t know.”
I leaned closer.
“Search the older files.”
He did.
A document appeared.
Dated fifteen years ago.
My mouth went dry.
PIER 9 — HAYES INSPECTION.
“Open that.”
Roman looked at me.
“Nora.”
“Open it.”
Luca clicked.
The report was short.
My father had documented illegal chemical shipments coming through Calder property.
Not just unsafe storage.
Smuggling.
Millions of dollars in unreported cargo.
And at the bottom of the report was a handwritten note.
HAYES WILL NOT SIGN OFF.
Roman read it twice.
Then another file opened.
An internal memo.
The authorization line contained one name.
MALCOLM CALDER.
I looked at Roman.
“Who is that?”
His face had gone pale.
“My uncle.”
The man who had raised Roman after his parents died.
The man currently serving as chairman of Calder Holdings.
The man Roman had once described in a magazine interview as “the closest thing I had to a father.”
My chest tightened.
“Your uncle knew about my father?”
Roman didn’t answer.
Luca opened another file.
An audio recording.
A young male voice spoke first.
My father.
I hadn’t heard him speak in fifteen years.
I stopped breathing.
“If this gets buried, people are going to die.”
Another man answered.
Older.
Calm.
“You have a wife, Daniel.”
My father said, “Is that a threat?”
“No. It’s advice.”
Roman’s hand gripped the back of the chair.
I knew that second voice.
I had heard it on television.
Malcolm Calder.
The recording ended.
I covered my mouth.
Roman stared at the black screen.
“My uncle told me that fire was an accident.”
I looked at him through tears I hated.
“And you believed him?”
“I was nineteen.”
“You grew up.”
His eyes lifted.
“So did my suspicion.”
Before I could ask what that meant, the mansion alarm exploded.
Red lights flashed.
A voice came over the security system.
“PERIMETER BREACH.”
Roman grabbed my arm.
“Stay behind me.”
May you like
Then the lights died.
And somewhere upstairs, a woman screamed.
