Chapter 3 - The Rules of Blackmere House
By sunrise, Roman had doubled the security around the estate.
Two guards stood at the front entrance. Another pair watched the service road. Cameras that had once pointed toward the gates now covered the gardens, the garages, and every entrance to the staff quarters.
The servants noticed.
They also noticed that Roman had ordered breakfast delivered to my room.
I returned the tray untouched.
Food had always come with conditions in Victor Sloane's house. A full plate meant I owed gratitude. An empty one meant I was ungrateful. Either way, I learned to eat when nobody was watching.
At eight thirty, Dominic knocked.
"Mr. Blackmere would like you downstairs."
"I haven't finished my duties."
"Your duties can wait."
"Apparently, everyone can wait except Mr. Blackmere."
Dominic blinked.
Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
"You're braver than you look."
"No," I replied. "I'm simply tired."
The smile vanished from his face.
He led me to a smaller sitting room beside Roman's office. Roman was standing beside the fireplace, speaking on the phone.
"No, I don't care what he promised you," he said. "If Sloane contacts anyone on my payroll, I want to know before he finishes the conversation."
He ended the call.
"Sit."
This time, I obeyed.
Roman placed a sheet of paper on the table between us.
"Three rules."
I stared at it.
"Is this a contract?"
"No. Contracts imply that you have something to negotiate."
"How comforting."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Then he pulled out a chair.
"First, you don't meet anyone who claims to know your past without telling Dominic. Second, you don't leave the grounds without an escort until we understand the threat. Third, nobody in this house is permitted to touch you without your consent."
I stared at him.
The third rule seemed almost absurd.
"Why would you need to tell people that?"
Roman's face hardened.
"Because I saw you on that floor."
I looked away.
He continued more quietly.
"I won't pretend to understand what happened to you, Nora. But I know what fear looks like when someone has lived with it too long."
"Then you know it doesn't disappear because someone writes a rule."
"No," he said. "It disappears when the person causing it loses the power to reach you."
For a moment, I forgot that Roman Blackmere had built an empire by making other people afraid.
Then I remembered.
"How many people have you made afraid, Mr. Blackmere?"
His expression went still.
"More than I can count."
"Then why should I trust you?"
"You shouldn't."
The answer startled me.
He walked toward the window.
"Trust is earned. Until I earn yours, follow the rules that keep you alive."
I stood.
"What happens if I refuse?"
"Then you refuse."
"And if I walk out the front door?"
"I'll have Dominic make sure you reach somewhere safe."
"Even if you don't know where I'm going?"
"Especially then."
I searched his face for the hidden price.
There was none I could identify.
That afternoon, I returned to my work. In the west hallway, I discovered that someone had moved the antique mirror near the library. Behind it, a narrow panel had been left slightly open.
I would have ignored it.
Then I noticed a fresh scratch on the wood.
Three short lines crossed by one longer mark.
My blood turned cold.
I had seen that symbol before, carved into the underside of Victor's desk.
It meant one thing in the private language of the Sloane household.
The debt remains unpaid.
I stepped backward.
Behind me, a floorboard creaked.
I spun around.
An elderly woman stood at the far end of the corridor, dressed in a dark blue gown. Her silver hair was pinned neatly beneath a pearl comb.
It was Eleanor Blackmere, Roman's mother.
She studied my face.
"You recognize that mark," she said.
I couldn't speak.
Eleanor approached the mirror and closed the panel with one gloved hand.
May you like
"Then perhaps," she whispered, "you are exactly the woman my son has been waiting for."
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