Chapter 9 - THE LAST CALDER
Roman did not speak for almost a minute.
Nora had never seen him look that way.
Not frightened.
Not angry.
Wounded.
“Your brother?”
Roman nodded.
“Adrian died in a car bombing.”
“Apparently not.”
Dante read the report.
“The prisoner was booked under another identity eight months ago.”
“Why?”
“Nobody knows.”
Roman turned toward the windows.
Nora approached him.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“Adrian was supposed to inherit everything.”
“The family business?”
“All of it.”
Roman had been twenty-three when Adrian supposedly died.
Afterward, responsibility had fallen on him overnight.
The legitimate companies.
The dangerous alliances.
The enemies.
The Calder name.
“I became Roman Calder because Adrian died.”
Nora understood what he meant.
The man she had met in the bakery—the quiet one who repaired windows and drank terrible coffee—might have been closer to who Roman once expected to become.
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
Roman answered.
“Hello, little brother.”
Roman’s face emptied.
“Adrian.”
Nora heard laughter through the speaker.
“You always were slow.”
“Where are you?”
“Close.”
“What did you do to Sebastian?”
“Nothing he didn’t deserve.”
“Where are you?”
Adrian ignored him.
“Congratulations, by the way.”
Roman looked at Nora.
“On what?”
“The baby.”
Roman’s eyes turned lethal.
“Do not say another word about her.”
Adrian laughed.
“There he is.”
The call ended.
Dante immediately began tracing it.
Nora touched Roman’s arm.
“He wants you angry.”
“I am angry.”
“He wants you stupid.”
That stopped him.
Nora continued.
“Then don’t be.”
Roman looked at her for a long moment.
“You would have been terrifying in my profession.”
“I worked hotel laundry. You have no idea what territorial warfare looks like until someone steals another woman’s industrial dryer.”
Roman laughed despite himself.
That broke the panic.
They started thinking.
Why reveal himself now?
Why contact Roman?
Why mention the baby?
Then Nora understood.
“He wants the evidence.”
Roman shook his head.
“Federal authorities have copies.”
“Not evidence against Sebastian.”
“Against whom, then?”
“Adrian.”
Silence.
They returned to Celeste’s journals.
Hours passed.
Then Nora found a repeated initial.
A.C.
Everyone had assumed Anthony Calder.
But one entry was dated three years after Anthony’s death.
A.C.
Adrian Calder.
Roman read the page.
His face changed.
Adrian had not been Sebastian’s victim.
He had been his partner.
The car bombing had staged Adrian’s death after he stole millions from the network.
Roman whispered, “He knew.”
“Who?”
“My mother.”
Roman found another entry.
A payment to Elena Calder.
His mother.
Not criminal proceeds.
A relocation payment.
She had helped Adrian disappear.
Roman looked devastated.
Nora took his hand.
Before either could speak, every light in the house went out.
Dante shouted downstairs.
Backup power failed.
Then came the unmistakable sound of breaking glass.
Roman moved Nora behind the library wall.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Nora.”
“We discussed this.”
“This is different.”
“It always is.”
A gunshot sounded downstairs.
Roman’s face changed.
Nora grabbed his wrist.
“Don’t become what he expects.”
Footsteps approached.
Roman positioned himself beside the door.
It opened.
Adrian Calder entered.
He resembled Roman enough to be unmistakable.
Same dark eyes.
Same height.
But where Roman’s stillness felt controlled, Adrian’s felt empty.
He held a pistol.
“Hello, brother.”
Roman stepped between Adrian and Nora.
“You came all this way.”
“I need the original journal.”
“No.”
Adrian smiled.
“You always did become sentimental.”
His gaze shifted toward Nora’s stomach.
Roman moved.
Fast.
Adrian raised the gun.
Nora grabbed Celeste’s heavy brass sewing box from the desk and threw it.
It struck Adrian’s wrist.
The gun fired into the ceiling.
Roman slammed him into the wall.
They fought brutally.
No elegance.
No cinematic perfection.
Two brothers carrying twenty years of betrayal.
Adrian reached for the fallen gun.
Nora kicked it beneath a cabinet.
Then security flooded the room.
Dante forced Adrian to the floor.
Roman stood over him, breathing hard.
Adrian laughed.
“You think you won?”
Roman said nothing.
“You’re still me.”
“No.”
Adrian smiled.
“You run the same world.”
Roman looked at Nora.
Then at the broken room.
Then back at his brother.
“Not anymore.”
Police took Adrian away.
At sunrise, Roman stood on the roof terrace.
Nora joined him.
“What did you mean?”
“I’m dismantling it.”
“The criminal side?”
“All of it that depends on fear.”
Nora studied him.
“That won’t happen overnight.”
“No.”
“It’ll make enemies.”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
Roman looked at her stomach.
Then at her.
“I want my child to inherit my name without inheriting my sins.”
Nora’s throat tightened.
Roman reached into his pocket.
This time there really was a ring.
Nora stared.
He immediately said, “I’m not proposing.”
“Good.”
“I bought it before the hotel.”
“Roman.”
“I said I’m not proposing.”
He placed the box on the ledge.
“I’m waiting until you choose me without chaos making the choice for you.”
Nora looked at the ring.
Then at him.
“And if I take a year?”
“I’ll wait.”
“Five?”
“I’ll complain.”
She smiled.
Roman kissed her forehead.
Below them, Boston woke beneath a pale gold sunrise.
For the first time, there was no immediate enemy coming through a door.
No gunfire.
No threat.
Just quiet.
Then Nora suddenly grabbed Roman’s hand.
His entire body tensed.
“What?”
She placed his palm against her stomach.
A tiny movement.
Roman froze.
Again.
The baby kicked.
Roman stared at her.
“That was—”
“Yes.”
His eyes filled.
The feared Roman Calder lowered himself slowly to his knees in front of her.
Exactly as he had in the hotel corridor.
But this time there was no blood.
No broken necklace.
No frightened crowd.
He pressed his forehead gently against her stomach.
And Nora ran her fingers through his hair.
“You know,” she whispered, “you still owe me a proper first date.”
Roman looked up.
“I bought a hotel for you.”
“That is not a date.”
“I cleared Boston traffic.”
“Also not a date.”
“I stopped a private jet.”
“Roman.”
He sighed.
“Dinner?”
“Now you’re learning.”
Then her phone rang.
Thomas.
Nora answered.
Her father sounded emotional.
“Nora… you need to come to the hospital.”
Her smile disappeared.
“What happened?”
Thomas paused.
“It’s about your mother.”
Nora’s heart stopped.
“What about her?”
May you like
Thomas whispered:
“Celeste left one final recording.”
