Epiphany
Chapter Two
Four Years Later
The sound of a piano waked a sleeping Clarice Starling Lecter or as the citizens of Milan knew her, Caprice Poverelli. She groaned and moved into a sitting position as she took a glance at the clock to her right. 8:00 AM, Leonardo's piano lesson, she realized quickly. She moved her eyes over the immaculate master bedroom that Hannibal and she shared. The bed was large and cloaked in an expensive beige comforter that was silky to the touch. The walls were painted an off white with delicate carvings etched into corners and where the wall met the floor. There was a double door, leading out to the veranda that overlooked the city. The curtains were drawn closed, leaving the room cloaked in mid-darkness. The floor was wood; it seemed to shine from the sunlight. In the corner of the room was a vanity, Clarice remembered carefully doing her makeup or getting ready for a prestigious play or opera that the Doctor had been given or bought tickets to. The room was spacious and the door was shut. Clarice moved to her feet and retrieved a cotton bathrobe from her closet and draped it over her shoulders and tied it tight around her waist. With that, she quietly left the room.
Moving down the long hall, she met the music room with the sound of her son's and Hannibal's voice. He was being the teacher and Leonardo was quite the student. They said he was a prodigy, incredibly intelligent like Hannibal and an incredible knack for music. Hannibal and Leonardo were incredibly similar but he was stubborn like Clarice. He was strong and had a rather sharp tongue. He was a clever little boy and quite the bookworm as well. She watched them silently from the doorframe, moving her eyes over the duo. Leonardo moved his long fingers over the keys and played a familiar tune that Clarice could not place.
"Leonardo, it goes like this. Do your best to follow." Hannibal said loud enough for Clarice to hear. Her son responded quickly and rather politely. He was a rather polite little boy.
"Yes, Papa." Hannibal's fingers danced over the keys and Clarice smiled softly. They were so alike, it was incredible. Leonardo was a curious little boy and often in school he was reprimanded for asking such outrageous questions. He was fluent in both Italian and English as was Hannibal and Clarice. Hannibal, however, was fluent in a multitude of languages and was currently teaching their son French. Sometimes, Clarice once confessed, she felt lost when Hannibal and Leo had an intellectual conversation.
Leonardo quickly copied his father's fingers and a similar sounding tune came out. When the song was over, Hannibal patted the boy on the back before whirling around to meet Clarice's amused glance.
"Good morning, Caprice. Sleep well, I hope?" Clarice nodded and smiled. He only called her Caprice in public and he hated when he called her that. But they had to; their son could not know their real names or any of their friends or neighbors.
"Mama!" Leonardo shrieked and ran to his mother's side and she gathered him in her arms. "Did you hear me play the song on the piano, Mama? Papa say's I'm exceptional. Do you think so, Mama?"
Clarice smiled and planted a kiss on the boy's cheek. His grin only grew larger. "Of course, my darling. You are quite extraordinary. Actually, don't tell your Papa this, I think you are better then him!" She looked up and saw Hannibal's eyes glittering amusingly. He smiled softly and Clarice put her attention back on their son.
"Really?" He asked in a tight voice and grinned. "Of course, Mama. I won't tell him a word!"
Clarice put her son back on his feet and straightened out his messy ebony hair.
"Leonardo, that's enough for today. You did quite well, in fact. Wash up for breakfast. We will meet you down in the dining room momentarily." Hannibal said to his son and he sprinted off to the bathroom.
Clarice walked towards him and leaned in. Their lips brushed up against each others for a few seconds. She watched him as they pulled apart. He seemed so happy as was she.
"Clarice, are you prepared for tonight's opera? It is suppose to be exquisite. Leonardo is incredibly excited for it. The boy has such refined taste."
"Oh Hannibal, I just really wonder from where he gets it from!" Clarice exclaimed and again he gathered her in his arms and they shared a wonderful lip lock. Clarice almost didn't want to leave for breakfast.
Their life in Milan was nothing short of amazing. The FBI had Clarice Starling as a missing person and many believed she was dead. They were still searching for Hannibal Lecter as they forever will be. Clarice doubted they would ever catch him. They were searching for a single man that was under suspicion from the city's police force. Hannibal was neither, he was now Anthony Poverelli, a European born Italian that was married to Caprice Poverelli, an American born Italian. And they certainly were not looking for a man with a child. It seemed to be foolproof. With those almost five years in Milan, not a single person had inquired to them. Mason Verger had supposedly given up the chase and was now thought to be dead. Or at least, Hannibal and Clarice hoped so.
"Okey dokey, then. Off to prepare breakfast." With that, Hannibal was gone.
Clarice retreated back to the master bedroom and fingered through her closet looking for something appropriate to wear for today's events. Searching her mind, she found her schedule. Drop Leonardo off at his violin lesson, go to work, come home early and go to the Opera. Clarice pulled out a white skirt that came to the knee and a sky blue v-neck with three quarter sleeves. It was early March and was quite warm for Italy. Clarice thought the outfit was satisfactory for a Secretary. Presently, Hannibal had opened up his out Psychiatry practice a little into town and she worked as his secretary. They were quite wealthy by Milan's standards and that pleased Clarice. She was leading the perfect life.
She moved into the bathroom and turned the water on, she began to soak in the suds and after a few moments, returned back to the bedroom where she quickly applied makeup and fashioned her hair in a neat bun. Dressing quickly, she left to go downstairs and join her husband and son for breakfast.
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"Cordell? Cordell?" Mason Verger shrieked for his personal nurse, butler and whatever else Mason needed him for. The man arrived quickly, exasperated. Mason wasn't too pleased with this. "Cordell! Where the fuck where you? Well thank God that you are here, get Emilio on the fucking line."
"Of course." Cordell managed to squeak out. In his deepest heart, he wished that he had listened to Hannibal Lecter all those years ago when he had suggested that he should push Mason into the Muskrat pen and blame it all on him. God, how Cordell wished he listened to the demented, twisted Doctor.
He left the room quickly, his footsteps fading away from Mason as he went to retrieve the phone. Emilio was Mason's hired 'assassin', a polite way to put it, and was currently stationed in Europe, looking and searching for Hannibal Lecter and perhaps his whore, Clarice Starling.
Cordell arrived back quickly with a cordless phone; he punched in Emilio's private number and put the phone on speaker. Mason Verger shooed his butler from the room and Cordell happily obliged. He was a neither morbid nor twisted person. He was actually rather squeamish and a kind man, he even refused to shoot Hannibal Lecter with Clarice Starling in his arms. And he certainly did not what to hear Mason Verger discuss the kidnapping, torture and eventual death of Hannibal Lecter with a Hispanic assassin that was probably more sick and twisted then Mason himself.
"Emilio!" He said through a raspy, ill voice.
"Mason?"
"Yes, it's me, you stupid fuck. Did you find that fucker or what? Where is that son of a bitch?!" He seemed to scream into the speaker.
"Oh, I found the dirty bastard, all right. Oh, it's better then you imagined." Emilio seemed to chuckle into the phone but Mason grew quiet, although impatient and squirming in his seat.
"Hannibal Lecter is married, Mr. Verger. The bastard is fucking Clarice Starling, what a surprise, eh?" Emilio knew a bit about Clarice, her past cases and her history with Hannibal 'the Cannibal' Lecter. Emilio also knew about the twisted rumors about a relationship between Clarice and Dr. Lecter.
"Not a sur-fucking-prise. Is that all, Emilio? Tell me more!" Mason demanded through the speaker.
"Oh there's more, Verger. Much more. That fucker has a son with that wench Starling. They are going under the names Anthony and Caprice Poverelli and their son is Leonardo. Quite the genius, I might add."
"Where are they?"
"Milan. What are my orders, Verger? Oh, I found your flying fucks but to kill them, all of them, my price is going up a little."
"How much?" Mason seemed intrigued.
"5 million for the kidnapping and eventual death of the fuck faced family."
"Done."
"So, what are my orders?"
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Clarice Starling drummed her fingers upon a mahogany desk, bored out of her wits. Upon her desk, was an intercom system, to let people inside the office. Pens, pencil and an appointment book lay in a neat pile on the right side. Checking the appointments carefully, an Emilio Dominguez was scheduled after Hannibal's session was over. The Hispanic hadn't made his appearance yet and was wondering if he was going to show up. Just then, the intercom was patched through and she pressed the button to speak into it.
"Hello, state your name and time of appointment." She said curtly.
The man at the door responded quickly with a deep Spanish accent that she had placed from perhaps Cuba or even Puerto Rico. What's a man from there doing in Milan? Not that she cared all that much. Hannibal and herself weren't too different either; they had left the States for Milan to run away from the FBI and were posing as American and European born Italians. She was not in the position to judge.
"Emilio Dominguez. I am here to see Dr. Poverelli in about 10 minutes."
"Well, good morning, Mr. Dominguez. The door will unlock momentarily and please make your way in."
"Gracias."
Emilio walked into the room quickly and met eyes with Clarice Starling. He was a tall man; about six foot three with piercing black eyes. His skin tone was dark, bronze and had thinning black hair. He seemed about forty and was in incredible good shape. He had wiry muscles that were evident through his tight, white shirt. His hands, Clarice could see, were scarred and calloused and she felt that as she shook his hand. She watched him for a moment, studying the numerous scars upon his torso. He had a strong jaw and small, narrowed eyes. His brow was a little too close together which shadowed his eyes and all together, he was rather intimidating looking. How many people did this nutcase kill? Clarice found herself wondering. She had thought their greetings to each other had finished but instead, Emilio brought her finely manicured hand up to his lips, kissing it quickly. Clarice watched him oddly and for once, was glad that Hannibal 'the Cannibal' Lecter was her husband and would kill anyone that touched her. Emilio Dominguez had something ominous about him, his eyes seemed cold, emotionless and his gaze was unnerving. She was glad to hear Hannibal's voice through the speaker on the desk.
"Caprice, my love, is Mr. Dominguez present at the moment?" He spoke in fluent Italian.
"Yes, Dr. Poverelli. He arrived moments ago." She responded in equally as good Italian.
"Excellent, I'm sending Mrs. Marino out momentarily. Send him in when you see her."
"Of course."
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Emilio watched Clarice Starling curiously. He had kissed her hand before; he liked to have a sense of attraction to his victims. He liked to feel aroused as he killed them, meeting Clarice Starling for the first time, Emilio knew he wouldn't have a problem with that. Watching her now, he realized how quite strong the attraction was. He would almost be sad to watch her die. She was a beautiful creature. Bright, cerulean eyes that contrasted a pallid skin tone. Her hair was pulled back tightly; it accented her high cheek bones and short nose. I'll have some fun with her before that whore dies. Maybe, I'll make Lecter watch. God, he will feel pain. That twisted fuck Mason will love that. He smiled, amused but Clarice wasn't watching him at the moment. Emilio had been surprised when she had spoken fluent Italian to the doctor but he reminded himself, he had found the right whore. Dr. Lecter was only seconds away. He couldn't wait to feel their fresh, warm blood on his hands. He was practically squirming in his seat. Remember, Emilio. Patience. The plan will work, just have patience. Then…then those bastards would die. He thinks as Mrs. Marino exits the building. Only a matter of time, he reminds himself again. His thoughts are interrupted by the attractive Clarice Starling.
"Mr. Dominguez?" He looks up sharply and gives a fake smile that in some way looks awkwardly real. But to Clarice Starling, it looking awkwardly threatening and quite ominous. She was hesitant of this man.
"Go straight in."
"Thank you." He responds and goes to his feet. Only a matter of time.
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The first chapter is done! How do you like it? Emilio Dominguez is rather twisted, no? Hah. I'm hoping you like it so far. On to Chapter two! I know it's odd I did 3 chapters at a time but I'm going away and want to get rid of this muse. It's off to a slow start but it should be more action packed later! I hope it's in character so far.
