This is the first Passions fic I'm posting on here, but if you like this, I'll try to post more. Hope you like
Diabolique
Rating:R(for later chapters)
Prolouge: Induction
Blinking against bright lights, Theresa wondered if she had finally reached heaven. It had seemed she had been lost in darkness for so long, but now she had finally arrived.
Cautiously opening her eyes, she looked around and instead of the pearly gates she expected, she saw instead three white walls, and various monitors beside the bed she was lying in.
What is going on?
"Nice to see you awake, my dear,"an amused voice said, cigar smoke flowing into the sterile room.
Squinting, she tried to make out the dark figure in the doorway. "Where am I?"
"That is not important. All you need to concentrate is recovering from the nasty fall you took. Don't you remember?"
Closing her eyes for a moment, she was transported back to the time that would forever change everything for her.
Why can't I be happy....with Whitney.
The woman I love. Feeling tears flood her eyes at the hurt of Fox's confession, she choked out, "How? Why?"
"The how isn't important, but the why is something that I think you'll find very interesting."
"Please, just be straight with me! Who are you? Why did you save me?"
Coming to stand directly to her bedside, Alistair Crane looked down at the woman that had become key to his ultimate plan. "Because my dear, you are the mother of a Crane heir."
"What does that have to do with anything? I've already lost Little Ethan to Ethan and Gwen. You didn't lift a finger then,"she snapped, wondering just what Alistair was up to.
Trying not to smile at her spitfire response, he replied nonchalantly, "That wasn't necessary then seeing how Little Ethan isn't a Crane." At least until I say so, Alistair thought, blowing another ring of smoke above the young woman's head.
Feeling her world tilt on its axis, she stuttered, "W-What...what do you mean? What are you saying?"
Knowing the precarious condition the woman was in, the Crane patriarch admonished, "Calm down, Theresa. It will all come clear soon. Now, I must be going, but I will be in touch." He began walking towards the door, when Theresa called out, "Wait! Alistair! Please tell me what-"
"Tomorrow, my dear. Until then,"and with that, Alistair Crane left the room, knowing that within a few months, he would have the ultimate weapon for his revenge against all those he despised and abhorred.
A weapon in the guise of Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald.