Funny how everything in life could change in a single instant. And yet, what is it that they say? The more things change, the more they stay the same.
Even dressed as I was in my beautiful black and silver gown, the heiress of a powerful empire, I was still alone, cold and shivering...
And I was still afraid, unsure of which path to take...
I heard the click of the bedroom door behind me.
At the sound of the quiet footsteps behind me, I let out a sob of relief as I felt warm arms clasp around me fiercely. And perhaps, for the first time ever, I felt like I belonged somewhere as Tony Dimera pulled me close against his chest. This was my home, here with Tony.
Oh, Renee, my beautiful Renee...he murmured as he held me close, nuzzling my ear, stroking my face, touching my hair.
For so long, I had known only cruelty and rejection from him. Night after night, I would bitterly watch him in another woman's arms, hating them both and hating myself for who I was becoming.
But that hell was over...
Tony was here now, mine at last. And I hungrily took in his love like the sun, gazing up into his face as he held me in his embrace. Had he ever looked at me so tenderly before? Had he ever looked so happy before? If so, I could not remember it. And I knew for certain that I had never felt so complete. There was so much to live for, so much to look forward to...
Your smile lights up the whole room. I've given you so little to smile about. This is our moment. No one else exists in this entire world except you and I, Renee.
I have wanted you and your love for so long... I confessed. And now...
I lost the words. I couldn't think. Not as long as he was looking at me like that...
All I could do was submit to his slow sensual kiss, cherishing every caress as if it were for the last time...
Pulling away from me, Tony turned off the bedroom lamp, taking off his elegant cufflinks. I blushed, knowing what he was silently asking of me, even with a house full of party guests downstairs. But I was beyond shame as I reached behind my neck, unclasping the back of my gown, allowing the black and silver confection to shimmer down to the floor in a deserted heap.
Tony was right. This was our moment. There was no room for shame or regret. We had more than our share of that in the past. That part of our lives was over now.
And I wanted him so intensely I could barely breathe...as I stepped into his arms...and we sank upon the soft bed...
------------------------------------------
"Miss Daniels!"
Nooooo...I moaned, wanting to stay in the sweet dream. Go away...
Still that incessant knocking.
"Miss Daniels, the Count is asking for you to join him for breakfast!"
I was confused. The Count? But wasn't he...?
A maelstrom of emotions violently assaulted me as I opened my eyes, returning to the present.
"Are you OK, Miss Daniels?"
"Y-y-yes, B-bart..." I stammered, fighting back the onslaught of tears. "I-I just have to wash and get dressed."
"Gotcha."
When I heard the burly man stomp off, I let the tears flow freely. And then I began to sob. For the first time, I truly realized just what a tragedy Renee's murder had been. She had been so young and so in love. And it all had been stolen from her so cruelly. No wonder her spirit could not find peace.
I was still trying to get my bearings in the unfamiliar guest bedroom, making my way to the adjoining bathroom, sniffling. Perhaps I was just overtired, I said to myself as I fiddled around with the bathtub handles. That was why I was so overly emotional. I had been up for hours last night, too keyed up to sleep. And that drug had really messed up my nights and days.
For a while, I had simply paced around, taking in the environment of the bedroom.
The room seemed almost purposely decorated on the feminine side. Had Dimera had other women down here before, I wondered. There was a vanity set with a mirror, complete with a comb, hairbrush, makeup (and from Sephora, no less!) and other niceties. Walking over the armoire, I found it filled with frilly feminine clothing. I was no expert on fashion designers. Prada, Jacklyn Smith, it was all the same to me. But I sensed that this stuff was not hurriedly purchased at the local Walmart. This was high-end stuff that must be worth a fortune. And fortunately for me, most of the clothes seemed to be in the right colors to suit me.
Wandering around, I took in the bookcase, filled with large weighty tomes about large weighty subjects...philosophy and science and such. No chick lit here, I laughed to myself.
There was a television set and DVD player with several shelves of DVDs devoted to highbrow classic films. Most were of the sort that you would find shown in retro film festivals, art houses or museums, stuff directed by Kurosawa and Truffaut. But there were a few of my old favorites among the collection. I contemplated popping in the DVD of Alfred Hitchcock's REBECCA, but the thought of watching a movie about a haunted woman living in a strange house seemed a little too close to home at the moment.
No, I could not bring myself to read or watch a movie, despite my insomnia. To concentrate on such things, you needed peace of mind. And that, I certainly did not have.
So I laid down on the large bed with the sky blue satin lining and I gazed off into space, freaking out about my situation.
But apparently I must have dozed off at some point. And then came that dream...
...But the sooner I forget about that dream, the better, I said to myself, toweling myself off from my shower.
Picking through the clothes in the armoire, I felt like a kid in a candy store. My usual wardrobe consisted of office wear for the London Spectator and dowdy clothes to wear when I was doing undercover work. I rarely just dressed to look nice. I pulled out a smart purple tweed jacket, along with a lilac cotton shell and some tailored dark pants. There were several nice pairs of shoes, all spanking new. I knew less about shoe designers than clothing designers, but I wouldn't have been surprised to find a pair of Jimmy Choos in there somewhere. I picked out a pair of brown strappy sandals.
Looking at my reflection in the vanity mirror, I caught my breath. Somehow, whether it be the style or the color of the clothes, I looked more like Renee than ever before. And it made me nervous. Was it possible that Tony's story about protecting me was all bunk, that somehow Tony had brought me here...to recreate me into his old lover's image? I remembered Stefano making Hope Brady into the recreated image of his lover, Princess Gina. That would be a very Dimera-like thing to do, I pondered nervously.
Leaving the bedroom, I nearly ran right into Bart.
"Jeez! You took your sweet time about getting' ready!" Bart growled, although I could tell by the approving glint in his eye that I must have cleaned up good. "Come on! The boss doesn't like to be kept waiting!"
We walked down a long hallway towards what must have been a dining room area.
"Pretty fancy, huh?" Bart added.
If Bart was looking for praise about the Dimera underground compound, he would not get it from me. I was too well versed in my research. For Dimeras, hidden islands, underground compounds, secret passageways and such were the norm. They changed out elaborate hideaways as often as college kids switched out dorm rooms. This was actually fairly typical.
At the dining room table, Tony Dimera awaited me with a mysterious smile, surrounded by eggs, pastries, bacon, coffee, what have you. Today, he was dressed entirely in black, looking all dangerous and evil, his scar glaring at me through the dim lighting.
At the sight of him, I remembered all too well my dream and how he had been in it. The memory of his seductive stare, his unclothed body, his sweet smile...all of it burning in my brain.
"Leigh, are you sure you're feeling alright?" Tony Dimera asked, instant paternal concern on his face as he stood up from the table.
"Y-yes..." I stuttered, cursing myself as I nearly tripped in the unfamiliar shoes.
"Are you certain?" he asked, seeming a bit paternal as he pulled out a chair for me to sit. "You look a bit flushed. Are you feverish?"
"Well, I suppose it is a little warm in here," I rasped, sinking down into the straight-backed chair.
"Bart! Turn up the air conditioning, will you?" Tony bellowed loudly. "Sorry. The air circulation down here is not entirely stellar."
"That's quite alright," I nodded, sitting down, staring at the omelette before me. Yes, I should think about breakfast, not steamy sex with white roses. After all, Tony was being a perfect gentleman, completely respectable and platonic. I was the one who couldn't seem to get it together. For the umpteenth time, I cursed Renee's ghost. Sometimes, there is just a thing as too much information, Renee!
"Does the breakfast suit you?" Tony asked, after an interminable amount of awkward silence. "Feeling better?"
"Yes," I agreed hastily, glancing up from my eggs. "It's...um, delicious..."
At a glimpse of his face with those mischievous laughing eyes, I quickly looked away again, concentrating a little bit too hard on buttering my toast. Lord, was I breaking out into a sweat?
"So why don't you just come out and ask about it?"
"What?" I started, looking up at him questioningly.
"Please, Leigh...you can barely stand the sight of my face. Why don't you just ask me about the scar?"
The scar!? I nearly laughed in relief. Better him to think I was repulsed by his scar than to know what I was really thinking about!
"Well, I didn't think it would be polite to pry."
Tony laughed loudly.
"Since when have you been shy about prying into my life?" he asked, taunting me. "I assume if I don't tell you, you'll just nose about, asking everybody questions about it. At least, if you hear it from me, you'll know the truth."
"That's debatable," I smiled, putting down my toast. "OK. So what's the story with the scar?"
Taking a sip of coffee, Tony leaned back against his wicker chair in repose, looking for all the world like a contented panther basking in the sun.
"You surmised yesterday that my dear cousin Andre was responsible for Marlena Black's brainwashing?" he began. "Well, you are correct on that score. And he impersonated me on the island of Melaswen the entire time. Only he could have come up with such cheap theatricals as creating that ridiculous prop which was supposed to be Stefano's rotting corpse! And the stories he told...why they were simply outrageous! I am insulted that anyone could think that I would bet that far gone, blood disease or no!"
My fascination with the Dimera folklore kicked in, my forbidden fantasies of Tony for now repressed if not forgotten.
"The theory was that you were avenging John Black for the loss of your wife..."
"Please!" Tony harrumphed. "I truly loved Kristen, but I would hardly make all of those people suffer for her unfaithfulness. There's no love lost between me and John, that's for certain. Mind you, I'm no saint. There were a few times I even tried to kill John for what he did to me. For a while, I even tried to steal his wife from him, the saintly Marlena. But I simply could not work up the sufficient motivation to carry out my plans. I suppose perhaps I finally got over the hurt of Kristen's betrayal."
"Well," I ventured. "Maybe she just wasn't the right person for you, Tony."
Tony looked at me seriously as if seeing me for the first time.
"Perhaps she was not."
I felt all hot and bothered again.
"What about your scar?"
"Oh, yes. You must be familiar with the tiger attack at the Salem Circus event during the Salem Stalker murders?" Tony started. "But what am I saying? Of course you are! Well, my inquisitive little cat, here's a scoop for you. That was the one murder in the whole scenario that was meant to be for real."
I gasped in shock.
"You mean...that was really you!? And you were really attacked by the tiger!"
"Oh, yes...you see, Andre and I have bitterly hated each other practically since we were born. My cousin wanted my death to be as violent, as humiliating and as painful as possible."
I blanched, remembering the sensational event. There were countless news stories about it. And on some websites, you could even find some bootleg clips of the tiger attack, although most people claimed they were faked. The image of Tony Dimera, drenched with blood, bashed on the head with a bucket and then ruthlessly mauled by the wild animal had made me feel sick with agony.
"Please don't look at me like that..." Tony snapped, pushing away from the dining table and pacing about the room. "I cannot abide pity!"
I swallowed hard, trying not to cry again, digging my fingernails into my palm in an attempt to calm myself.
"How did you possibly survive such a brutal attack?"
"There had been a brief few hours during the crisis where the tiger had dragged my unconscious body away. No one discovered me for some time. I suppose it was a miracle I did not bleed to death. I'd like to think that I was simply not meant to leave this world in such an undignified fashion. Eventually, Bart found me. There was a great deal of panic in Salem during those days, you understand. Everyone was afraid that they would be the Salem Stalker's next victim. My intention had been to expose Marlena Black as the killer. Foolish hubris and pride on my part as I always loved being the center of the attention. This time had been no exception. But I was prepared for possible repercussions. Bart had been instructed that if anything were to happen to me, he was to contact my young brother, Benjy. Benjy arranged for my body to be transported to a secret triage unit where my life was saved, although I nearly died in the helicopter during our escape. As my cousin Andre is wont to do, he panicked when things did not go as expected and did what he did best, pretended to be me...all the way from the hospital until his stay in prison."
"But Benjy Dimera is so young. How did he manage to pull off your rescue?"
"Don't underestimate my little brother, Leigh. He is no match for Stefano or EJ, but he does have power, courage and brains. I taught him well over the years."
It dawned on me how many Dimera secrets had not even surfaced to the light of day yet.
"I stayed with Benjy, regaining my strength. Let me tell you, it was no mean feat, surviving right under the noses of those trying to destroy me. But we made out all right. I had been smart enough with my funds to have a little nest egg safe from Andre and EJ's destruction. I made this little home-away-from-home and have been here ever since. Only Benjy, Bart and Celeste know of my existence here. And now you."
"How did Celeste know about this?"
"Those blasted visions of hers. She knew that something was up right after my death. Neither of us knew at the time that this was another Dimera plot. She had agreed to keep my secret to spite my father if for no other reason."
"So Andre and EJ were responsible for the Salem Stalker plot?"
"Possibly my father as well..." Tony shrugged. "With him, it is hard to say what his true involvement was. My suspicion is that he was not involved. The execution of some of the final details of the plan were too sloppy and poorly thought out to be the work of Stefano. Although there is no question that EJ and Andre used his money to build that ridiculous island!"
"But why? Why would EJ want to do this to people he didn't even know?"
"Are you familiar with the Hitler Youth movement that occurred during WWII, Leigh?"
Stunned by the abrupt turn of the conversation, I answered.
"It's been a while since I've been in history class, but yes, I remember something about it. Young kids in Germany were groomed to become good little Nazi soldiers, right?"
"Correct. There is more than one way to brainwash someone, Leigh. Stefano was determined to make EJ his perfect soldier...and by all accounts, he has succeeded. Not by torture, but by a means even more insidious: parental approval. You remember all of that tripe told about my supposed 'confession' at Melaswen...where I wanted to impress my father with a diabolical plan that would stand up to any of his past achievements? Those were EJ's words coming out of the puppet Andre's mouth. So many people have assumed over the years that I have wanted to make myself over in my father's image. They are so wrong. When I thought he was not my true father and he had me locked up in chains, I never hated anyone more! EJ is the real Son of Stefano, so to speak. For he has truly been brainwashed into the perfect Dimera Pawn."
"And Andre? What does he have to gain from this?"
Tony sneered in contempt.
"Andre has the morals and ethics of your average streetwalker. He has always sold himself out to the highest bidder, usually Stefano. And he always loved being me, having all of my power and wealth at his fingertips so he could indulge in his sordid behavior with drugs, women and so on. When my father became ill, Andre thought that he would no longer be threatened. That is when he became truly stupid and sloppy with that absurd attempt to manipulate Sami Brady and Phillip Kiriakis. Truly, he is a blight on the Dimera name. My father was evil, but you had to respect his genius and finesse. Andre is just a boor. And trust me, EJ does not like Andre anymore than I do. I am certain EJ is responsible for his ultimate imprisonment."
"That is until now..."
"Yes," Tony nodded slowly. "And I am sure EJ had to do with Andre's ability to get out. He has that much power these days and is that clever. EJ was threatened by your existence and had arranged for Andre's release...in some attempt to trap you somehow."
"This is so incredible," I commented, shaking my head. "And what about you?"
"Me?" Tony asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Why are you hiding down here in secret...like you're the Phantom of the Opera or something?"
Tony roared with amusement.
"Ah...that's perfect! I even have the scars to go with the image. I wonder, do I have a mask around here somewhere? 'Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation...'"
I interrupted his Andrew Lloyd Webber tribute.
"It's not funny, Tony!" I raised my voice in the heat of the moment. "Why are you doing this to yourself? You're an innocent man! Why don't you expose EJ and Andre for their crimes and reclaim your reputation?"
"What reputation?" Tony scoffed. "All of my life, I've had to defend myself against my father's actions. If I wasn't fighting with my father, I was fighting with his enemies. I'm tired of fighting all of the time."
"But if you could get real proof against EJ, you could stop the Dimera reign once and for all!"
"Stopping EJ won't stop the Dimeras," Tony answered. "You should know that, Leigh. You chop off one head, another grows in its place. I was never cut out to be a hero. Don't expect me to be valiant like Bo Brady or Steve Johnson or my dear brother, John. I just want a peaceful life without constantly having to watch for a knife at my back."
"But isn't it lonely down here?" I asked, feeling depressed. "Isn't it boring?"
"Not anymore," he answered with a soft smile. My gut clenched. Never had any man had such an effect on me.
"Besides, I can hardly reclaim my reputation as a ladies' man in Monte Carlo with a face like this now, can I?"
"The scar's not so bad," I admitted, turning away from him.
"Such flattery makes me blush."
I didn't answer.
"So who is he?"
"Huh?"
Tony gave out an exasperated sigh, tinged with weariness.
"Most little Pollyannas like you have some young swain they're devoted to...someone like Eric Brady or Austin Reed, you know the type."
I bristled at his condescending description of me.
"I don't have time for romance, Count Dimera." I realized I was going back to using his full title, but I was so miffed I couldn't help myself. "You know, there's always a big story to cover, always ambulances to chase..."
"You're not in love with Deveraux?" he asked with mock horror.
"Of course not!" I answered, insulted. "He's a married man with two kids. Don't be disgusting!"
Tony shrugged.
"Some people don't honor their marriage vows with such devotion."
I guessed he was speaking of Kristen again.
"Not that it's any of your business, but Jack believes in wedding vows. As do I."
"Indeed," he remarked mysteriously. "Then your future husband will be a most fortunate man. I also believe in the sanctity of marriage."
The tone of this conversation was beginning to make me nervous.
"Who says I'm ever going to get married? After all, I have a career to think of and once things settle down, I'll be back at work and won't have time for such..."
My words trailed off.
Tony did not answer but merely smiled indulgently.
"And even if I were available, which I'm not! But if I were available, I would not be interested in either Eric Brady or Austin Reed. From what I've heard, they're absolute bores! Not my type at all!"
"And just who is your type?"
My mind flashed back to my dream of Tony and Renee, the way he had kissed her...or was it me? A perfect kiss...
"Maybe I simply haven't met him yet."
"Maybe, maybe not..."