A/N: Hey everyone !

I'm FINALLY back with a new chapter for all of you ! I'm so sorry it took so long, my ADHD, my perfectionism, and my first year of college all decided to gang up on me and I have no clue how I've managed to do anything these past few months, really. But here is some fresh content for all of you (and as Gordon Ramsey would say "finally, some good fucking food" :P) and I really hope you enjoy ! Honestly, these next few chapters are just gonna be filler and boring until I can get to the actual chapter about Cal's inheritance and all that blah but, nevertheless, I promise I'll try to keep them interesting.

Also a little random tidbit: my fancast for Nathan is Robert Taylor (the old Hollywood actor, not the Aussie one :P). I honestly see such a resemblance between him and Billy and he also has that evil-ish look to him, I hope all of you will agree :P

As always, reviews are cherished and treated with lots of love. So happy to be back. Happy reading :))

It was the first day in some time that Cal had actually left her alone.

He hadn't been sitting across from her at the breakfast table like he usually was, with a raised eyebrow, anxiously looking up from his newspaper every few seconds to see if she was still there, almost as if he was waiting for her to evaporate into thin air.

He wasn't lurking over her shoulder, ready to pounce on her like a house cat, scolding her about what she was wearing, what she wasn't supposed to be reading… There was no exaggerated roll of his eyes when she told him she had declined yet another tea party or needlepoint society invitation, no scoffing when she complained about the other ladies in their circle…

He didn't tell her she was being ridiculous, didn't even try to make any comebacks from her petty mockeries or remarks.

She knew she was making him look bad. She knew what people were saying about her, how she was the perfect, little bride gone recluse… For weeks she had successfully avoided attending any social events by simply feigning a headache and locking herself in her room.

In the beginning, Cal had violently protested, even threatened to have the door removed. "Be dressed in ten minutes - or else!" he had raged at her one particularly scorching afternoon in June when they were running late to a garden party. But the ten minutes had passed, and then ten more... And when Rose crept downstairs again seeking out some dinner or even one of the kinder servants to talk to, Cal was gone and a passive-aggressive note addressed to her was in his place.

The next morning he would glare at her over coffee as he nursed his hangover and she would only smile at him as he stormed out the door in a huff.

He never really told her where he was going. He just spat out excuses when she asked with an exasperated sigh and the slam of a door, chiding her for even questioning him in the first place.

It was as if he had given up trying to control her. Rose was almost disappointed about it. For a moment she wondered if he was having an affair.

But then she realized she wouldn't have cared enough if he was.

In her life now it seemed there was nothing she truly cared about. Her little game with Cal of push and pull, fire and ice, had been the only enjoyment in her daily routine. But now that was gone too it seemed. She was a Hockley wife. There wasn't a more dreary existence.

With a sigh, she returned back to the magazine she had been half-heartedly paging through, eager to distract herself from the overwhelming emptiness she would never admit she felt in that moment.

The silence of the house around her was deafening. There were no creaking floorboards, not even the faint rustle of a curtain...

She felt as if she was trapped in a marble tomb, her pleas for help forever sealed by mortar and stone.

Rising from her spot on the sofa, she was all of a sudden suffocated with the urge to leave the library, running anywhere, desperate to get away from here. But sudden voices coming from the foyer stopped her in her tracks. It sounded like Cal. He must've returned home early. She felt her heart sink in her chest.

She was surprised when the door swung open to reveal her father-in-law instead, his composed presence wafting in the slightest breeze into the room.

As he approached her, his lips unfurled effortlessly into a blinding grin. Rose scarcely had a moment to process his unanticipated apparition before he swiftly grasped her hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. And, as suddenly uneasy as she was, she was oddly grateful for the unexpected coolness of his touch.

"Rose, my dear..." Nathan crooned as he fixed his gaze on her with his dark, piercing stare, "How do you manage to stay ever so lovely - even in this despicable heat?"

Curating a small smile, she could only chuckle humbly in response as she found herself stepping awkwardly away from him.

So much so that, all of a sudden, she was losing her balance.

Nathan's reflexes were quicker. Luckily.

Taking a firm hold on her arm, he caught her just as she was about to tumble backwards into the coffee table.

"Why, Rose, you should be more careful about looking where you're going - especially in your delicate condition!" he tutted breathlessly as he let go of her, leading her to a nearby velvet couch.

Her eyes flashed nervously. "My condition?"

Raising his stare to meet hers, Nathan's eyebrows shot up, the glint in his eye suddenly tarnished, "I was informed that you're expecting, are you not?"

"No, I-" Rose began, her voice wavering only the slightest as she relished a moment too long in the memory of a baby that would never be born. Remembering where she was, she swallowed the lump at the base of her throat and sighed. "not anymore."

Suddenly the empathist, Nathan managed a sigh as well, "How unfortunate… But, you're still quite young, my dear, there are bound to be others..."

Standing, he crossed to the window, his tone hinting at something quite sinister.

"And yet to think I was so hopeful that an announcement could have been made at the upcoming gala in a couple of weeks…" he continued, his words drenched in venom… "Caledon's inheritance and the anticipation of an heir all in one evening…" Pacing around her, he flashed his eyes at her, coiling back, a serpent ready to strike his prey… Rose felt herself flinch, knowing that he could smell the fear seeping from her pores... But rather than attack, Nathan simply turned to her again with a curious tilt of his head, "Don't you agree?"

As if stunned, Rose could only manage a nod in reply.

"But, don't worry, you have plenty of time ahead of you yet…" He reprised, brandishing his million-dollar grin once again and then, as if on cue, pulled his pocket watch from his coat, glancing nonchalantly down at the time. "Goodness, it seems that time has escaped me, do forgive me, but I must be on my way…"

"Certainly…" she began, pausing for a moment as she guided him out to the foyer, "Was there a message you wanted me to give Cal?"

"It seems I've forgotten what I needed to tell him, how clumsy of me…" he scoffed, his words smooth.

"I see…"

Reaching for the front door, Rose began to turn the lock but Nathan's cool touch stopped her once again and she felt herself jump as if shocked as he placed his hand on top of hers a bit too tightly, "My dear, do spare me and don't let him know I came by, I wouldn't want to look like a fool…"

Her lips fumbled out a chuckle, "Of course not…"

Loosening his hold on her, Nathan allowed her to open the door, letting in the afternoon sun drip into the house. Taking a step he began to make his way to his waiting car but before he went any further he turned to Rose one last time, a sinister smile on his face as he hissed, the sound crisp and dangerous, "Good."

xXx

July 1904, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, the DeWitt Bukater Estate

He hated these stupid parties.

They were all the same: dazzling couples lazily waltzing about an ornate ballroom, flaunting flimsy smiles and wielding the sharpest pieces of gossip they could find, eager to win the vicious struggle to be on top, hungry to decimate with simply a whisper of the right words.

Diamonds clung to vapid throats and black cigar smoke clogged the air in a dense, pretentious cloud. Piles of food were boastfully arranged on long banquet tables, a cornucopia of exotic foods: French pastries, Swiss chocolates, mangoes and papaya from Mexico… Of course it was all for show, God forbid anyone consume anything but glass after glass of imported champagne…

Cal couldn't stand it.

He yanked with irritation at his tuxedo collar that was slowly strangling him, slick with a nervous sheath of sweat. Suddenly, he was out of breath, feeling as if he was going to collapse... The room around him was spinning, a toppling whirlwind of colors and smells that sent his senses into overdrive…

He wasn't going to make it through the night.

He needed something to help him survive. Something that was a bit stronger than alcohol…

Managing a small smile, he painfully pried himself off of the debutante who had been attempting rather aggressively to flirt with him and made his way out to the terrace. Lighting a cigarette, he sighed, watching the smoke curl into the air before it vanished.

If only he could do the same.

Sighing once more, he reached into the pocket of his jacket, producing a small, glass vile which he rolled nervously between his fingers for a long moment. Darting his eyes around him, he waited to confirm that he was truly alone before he lifted off the cap, hastily snorting a more than healthy amount of the white substance that had previously been inside into his left nostril.

The stinging sensation that he was left with sent a pleasant tingle throughout his entire body, the air around him suddenly clearer, as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes. He smiled a bit too gayly and began to stumble back into the ballroom, an uncharacteristic spring in his step as the sounds of the summer night buzzed around him in a comforting hum.

But a small voice reverberating from the gardenias stopped him.

"What are you doing out here alone?" it peeped curiously.

Freezing in his tracks, Cal suddenly felt his heart beating furiously in his chest, he could hear the flow of his blood drumming with a thunderous anxiety through his limbs.

Maybe it was the drugs or maybe it was because his dirty little secret had just been found out. By a child.

He chuckled. Being frightened of a child. His father was right. He was pathetic.

Turning to face his intruder, he could see it was indeed a child. A girl, actually. He wondered how much she had seen. He wondered if she had seen anything at all…

She couldn't be more than nine years old. She was standing in front of him, barefoot in her nightgown which was now streaked with dirt, her fiery red curls a nest of knots littered with stray leaves and twigs, courtesy of her hiding place.

"I suppose I could ask you the same question..." he said after a moment, hoping she couldn't tell that his voice was trembling.

"I'm hiding from my governess, she doesn't know I'm not in bed, if Mother sees me out of my room the poor woman will be jobless by morning and that just means more freedom for me until Mother can find a new one..." she rambled on to herself in reply, hysterical with her own little hijinks, her youthful face beaming with a mischievous innocence in the moonlight, "Who are you hiding from?" she continued after a pause, her eyes narrowing at him slightly, "You didn't answer my question…"

Cal scoffed, trying to keep his expression stony. He had never done well with children. He had always tensed when he heard a baby crying, had avoided pregnant women and thoughts of fatherhood like the plague. But this one was clever. She could probably smell fear. He wouldn't be able to avoid her no matter how hard he tried.

"No one, I'm hiding from no one," he finally managed to stutter through his discomfort, turning his back on her once more.

"These parties are so silly," she continued, prattling on while Cal tried not to grit his teeth, "Mother is always throwing them, I don't even know what this one is for…"

Cal stopped and thought about it for a moment. He didn't know either.

All that he did know was that Theodore DeWitt Bukater was a dear friend of his father's - despite the fact he wasn't the brightest on the business end of things. He had heard the rumors of how much debt he was in, the way he was rapidly gambling away his fortune... He glanced over to the buffet table once again and scoffed.

He faced the girl again and smiled faintly. She was irritating him but at least she was far more interesting than any of the other guests waiting back inside. Of course the cocaine was doing some of the work for him as well, his senses a kaleidoscope of ever-changing colors and shapes that threatened to make him collapse in ecstasy.

"Do you know how to dance like them? They all look so beautiful..." his companion chirped again, pointing at the couples swirling elegantly to Strauss.

Cal couldn't help but to laugh at himself. "Yes, I do…"

The girl blushed, her cheeks a deep crimson all at once to match her hair, "Can you teach me?"

Pondering it for a moment, he mulled over in his mind how ridiculous the proposition was. But then, without remembering how he had decided to do so, he was holding out his hand for her and she was taking it, her soft skin making him jolt uncomfortably when he touched it.

Awkwardly, he shuffled his feet, making sure to avoid her bare ones.

Taking a step, he cleared his throat, "Well, first, you-"

xXx

"We're here, Sir…" his driver announced all of a sudden, a little too jubilantly for Cal's taste. He couldn't help but suddenly feel a pang of annoyance, a frown permeating his face as he was pulled from his thoughts.

He nodded gruffly in response and pushed his way out of the vehicle, stepping out onto the muggy train station platform, storming off to find a face in the sudden sea of hundreds surrounding him.

Her red hair helped her stick out of the crowd. That and her obnoxiously sized hat sitting on top of it. Cal chuckled. She was certainly spending his money well.

Raising an arm weakly, he waved to catch her attention and immediately her icy blue stare settled on him, sending a jolt of unpleasantness up his spine.

As she made her way to him, Cal wiped the sweat from his brow, his lips setting themselves in a grim line.

"Hello, Ruth…" he choked out as she appeared at his feet, a mountain of parcels in tow.

She regally extended a dainty, gloved hand in reply, which Cal reluctantly leaned in to place a quick peck on, trying his best to avoid catching a whiff of her pungent, Parisian perfume which had most likely been spared no cost to acquire.

God, he despised her.

But disregarding the nauseous feeling crawling up his throat, he held out his elbow for her to take and she latched onto him, her talons digging in deep to his skin as he led her back to the car.

"Caledon, I hope that you have been well," she purred lethally as she slid ever so gracefully into the seat, "Rose scarcely mentioned you in her letter to me…"

He only smiled in a gentlemanly manner as he took a seat across from her, hiding the unexpected upset he felt at the comment.

"Well, I was certainly surprised when she told me she had written to you…"

It was a lie. She hadn't told him anything. He hadn't even known his mother-in-law would be spending the coming weeks with them until the previous evening during dinner, which had ended abruptly when Rose had scampered off with a terrible "headache" mid-entree.

He knew that during Ruth's painful stay the responsibility of entertaining was in his hands. He knew that Rose loathed her mother, for whatever childish reason, and that it was now his duty to play the part of the charming - not to mention conveniently wealthy - son-in-law.

He had always wondered why she simply hadn't married Nathan. It certainly would've made life easier, sparing him a dozen splitting headaches and a couple thousand dollars.

They would've made a perfectly wicked pair.

He chuckled cynically at the thought. And also shivered at the prospect of having such a horrid stepmother.

Noticing his sudden amusement, Ruth arched a judgmental brow in his direction, silencing him for only a moment before he continued, his tone taking a turn for the more sinister, "I was also quite shocked to hear that you've been corresponding with my father…"

Locking eyes with her, Cal watched as her expression shifted from pleasant to paranoid, her lily pale complexion suddenly sickly as she feigned ignorance with a delicate tinkle of a laugh.

He had her exactly where he wanted her in that moment.

She knew that she was trapped.

He couldn't help but smirk.

"I was taken aback when he mentioned Rose's condition to me," he continued as his voice grew dangerously louder, "when I remember explicitly telling you not to speak of it to anyone…"

"Caledon, I-"

"Do you understand that if word had gotten out to even one wrong person that Rose had cohorted with th-that steerage rat we could've had scandal on our hands?!"

Ruth was silent for a moment as she removed her gloves, folding and placing them gently in her lap. Even when she was cornered she was acting like a goddamned lady.

Cal wanted to smack her.

"Well, from what I've been told, it shouldn't be a problem any longer…" she replied finally, a smug grin tugging at her lips as she locked her eyes with his, "The child is no longer an issue, is it?"

"I suppose Nathan informed you of her little 'incident' as well?"

His eyes flashed back to hers and they shared a glance, gleaming with relief, perhaps even sparked with joy. It was the only answer he needed.

"And that was just the easy part…" He smirked under his breath as the car began to approach the mansion, where Rose would be waiting… loathing… unsuspecting.