Chapter Thirty-Seven
Anticipation danced through Chloe, gleefully shattering her shaky resolve, as she warily watched her father approach their table through the crowd of fashionable diners. She followed each movement he made with eyes drowning in undisguised loathing. That man was a monster. She opened her mouth to screech at him when he was within earshot only to be stopped by a cautious Ethan.
In total contradiction to his own rampaging desires, Ethan gently tapped Chloe on the hand. Startled, she turned towards him. "Don't," he hissed the order out sharply, his eyes piercing straight to her soul in their blazing intensity. He waited until Chloe acknowledged his demand before he dropped his dark gaze from her face.
"Dammit," Chloe whispered, frustrated by her inability to face her father the way he deserved. But she knew, deep down, that Ethan was right. The only weapon they had right now was patience. Other than that, Stefano held all the cards and knew it. She nervously brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and muttered, "Let it ride."
Stefano sauntered up to the table with a mile-wide smile of cunning fulfillment portrayed vividly across his face. The tension threatened to smother them whole. "Well, well, well," he drawled out when five pairs of eyes sneered at him, plainly enjoying the drama his arrival had caused. He relished the extreme feelings aimed his way, proud that he had brought this particular group so low. "Look what the cat dragged in," he chuckled huskily to himself.
Ethan played it smart when he leaned back in his chair and leisurely steepled his fingers under his chin, his eyes purposefully shadowed. "A pleasure to meet you again, DiMera," he greeted him with a sarcastic edge that cut through the ominously still air like a razor-sharp knife.
Chloe merely narrowed her eyes at her father. If looks had the power to kill, Stefano would have expired painfully on the spot. She wisely held her tongue; actually biting it to keep the wealth of anger and hatred she felt from viciously spilling out.
Stefano waved away Ethan's greeting with an arrogant flourish of his hand and focused on Chloe. With an insolent grin, he sardonically applauded her efforts. "I am glad to see that you have finally learned some restraint, daughter. Though I must admit pushing your buttons is exceedingly entertaining." That damn smile she hated curved his lips again, mocking her intentionally.
John's anger boiled over. "Get to the damn point!" he snarled at him, jumping in quickly to help Chloe out. He noticed Chloe's cheeks first drain of all color, then flush with a dark red and the spark of anger that deepened her eyes from their normal sapphire color to cobalt. Without his interference, she would have unwisely engaged Stefano in a battle of wills he was afraid she was destined to lose.
"The damn point," Stefano reiterated, throwing John's words back at him. He paused and appeared to be contemplating his next words, all the while rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Knowing that Chloe couldn't defend the move in a crowded restaurant, he casually placed his hand on her chair.
Chloe felt her father's presence behind her and despised him all the more for placing her in such an uncompromising position. When his fingers "accidentally" touched the smooth skin of her neck, her skin actually crawled with disgust. She scooted to the edge of her seat, placing as much distance as possible between herself and her father. Desperate for a distraction, she couldn't resist the overwhelming temptation and looked towards Brady's table. She was shocked to notice that they weren't there.
Her father had followed her look easily. "Don't worry, Chloe, my dear," Stefano broke into her thoughts with a derisive laugh. "Brady and Greta have simply entered the dance floor."
Against her better judgment, Chloe fell unwittingly into Stefano's trap. She watched, breathless, as Brady and Greta waltzed beautifully together across the restaurant, in perfect time with each other. Greta laughed at something Brady said and smiled winningly into his face. A spear of jealousy shot through her as an image of Princess Gina, aka Hope Brady, and John Black formed in her mind. She could take just about anything BUT an affair between the two. My god, she thought despairingly, but that would be too damn low.
Stefano read her mind correctly and surprisingly reassured her, although he enjoyed the pain that had flared so brilliantly within her eyes. "They do look good together, but you do not have to worry about anything romantic between them, my dear. I will be delighted to set your mind at ease on that score, at the very least." He didn't mind easing her mind. By the time he was down with her, she would be broken beyond repair.
"As if I'd believe any word that came from your poisoned lips," Chloe scoffed recklessly, a slight laugh passing her tense lips. She missed the pursed lips that revealed the tightly controlled anger behind her ill thought-out remark.
Hope saw it, recognized it for what it was, and drew Stefano's ire her way, allowing Chloe a few precious seconds to regroup. "Well, Stefano, it appears that you haven't grown tired of playing "god" yet. Still messing with people's minds, are you? Changing their whole personality is the only way you can get their loyalty. And even that loyalty is questionable."
Stefano studied one of his past creations, his features carefully bland. He had failed in the past, he knew, but not this time. He had taken many precautions to make certain of that. With an expression of steely determination, he shared steadily, "There is not a doubt in my mind about the loyalty of my daughter, Princess Greta, and her bodyguard. Completely, totally, one-hundred percent loyal to me."
Ethan ran his finger along the edge of his sharp steak knife, the act itself intimidating to anyone else other than the unshakable Phoenix. "No plan is fool-proof, DiMera. We will find the key. As we have succeeded in doing in the past." He couldn't prevent the satisfied curling of his lips at the mention of Stefano's past failures.
"I will admit that various schemes have…failed in the end. They have been a series of mind-numbing headaches. But not this one," Stefano said with a sly grin. Shaking his head, he continued, "No, not this one at all. It will be enjoying, pure gratification, to watch the five of you try to break through their defenses. You will meet with failure at every turn, don't you know." The air around them filled with his delighted laughter.
Chloe's eyes blazed with an intensity that she had never experienced before. She stood up hurriedly and her chair slammed unerringly into her father's stomach with the movement. "Oh, so sorry," she purred out in a softly uttered voice, the stiff lines of her body belying her apologetic words.
Stefano refused to physically feel the ache in his ribs from the collision, which had surprisingly hurt. Intentional or not, Chloe had put a lot of force behind it. "Take care, Chloe," he warned her silkily, his gaze boring into her defiant one. "You are not as strong as you think you are. I will be delighted to prove how truly perilous your position is."
"Damn you, DiMera! Quit playing cat and mouse and tell us why the fuck you've come over here," Bo snarled out ferociously, effectively breaking the concentrated eye battle waging fiercely between father and daughter. He also stood up and faced DiMera from across the table, grabbing onto Hope's hand for comfort.
Stefano laughed again, too thrilled with this meeting to let it end anytime soon. It was pure enjoyment, toying with this group of hot-headed, stubborn Salemites, even if he did come out a little bruised from the ordeal. "All in good time, Bo Brady, all in good time." His assurance fell on deaf ears.
"Now," John ordered quietly even though his voice rang with steel.
"So predictable," Stefano demurred, ignoring Chloe for the first time and facing his old nemesis, the ultimate bane of his existence. "Just like a Black. Unfortunately, as I am certain you know, none of you are calling the shots here. I am," he stressed pleasantly.
Ethan studied the man in front of him closely, searching for any possible chinks in his unyielding armor. He cursed violently when he found none. Stefano DiMera was very sure of himself, a dangerous sign indeed. Coolly, he questioned him, "Let's cut to the chase here, DiMera. The five of us know beyond a shadow of a doubt what you have done, the utter evilness of your latest scheme. You are solely responsible for faking the deaths of Brady Black and my wife and have reconstructed their lives to meet your own desires." A vein near his forehead pumped swiftly as Ethan attempted to contain his fury. He swallowed and then ordered, his voice as strong as steel, "Now, we want answers to these questions and we want them now."
Stefano nodded approvingly at the former ISA agent, silently cheering his cool calm exterior. Only one of the many assets that had made him such an exceptional agent during his exceptional career. Rewarding Ethan with a small smile, he told him, "Very well. I have come to make a deal."
"A deal? What kind of a deal?" Hope inquired, her voice coated with disbelief. She gripped Bo's hand tighter, frightened by what Stefano had hidden up his sleeves.
Stefano smiled down at her, a smile that caused shivers to run violently through her. "A deal that you will find acceptable, I'm sure."
Chloe had been quiet for too long, merely watching the unfolding drama and not participating. "I doubt that," she bit out, angered by her father's offer. "Your "deals", as you term them, are nothing short of manipulation and blackmail. After all, I should know, father, dear." Scorn fairly oozed out of her.
Stefano tapped her along her flushed cheek. He chortled shortly when Chloe pulled back from his touch, rejecting it completely. "You never have learned to play this game, have you, my dear? Very unwise of you to challenge me at this point. Any of your friends here would tell you that."
John pushed back his chair and strode swiftly to Chloe. He stood beside her and they faced DiMera together, allies against a common foe. "Tempers are running extremely short, DiMera, so, to paraphrase my earlier words, get to the damn point." His arm landed on Chloe's, holding onto her tightly. He could feel the tension riding her in the stiff set of her shoulders.
DiMera watched his youngest daughter stand tall with his enemy. It was a good thing she was already dead to him, he reasoned internally. Otherwise, this would have sealed the deal. "The terms of the deal. Are you interested, Chloe?"
Put on the spot, Chloe snapped curtly, "Fine! Give us the damn details." She leveled a glare at her father.
A grin designed to put fear into her heart crossed his smug lips. "All right, the lady has spoken. The deal is quite short-lived, actually. Will only be for the night."
"A one-shot thing," John surmised correctly.
"That's my boy!" Stefano prodded him mercilessly, amused by the flare of anger in John's expression at his term. It had been so long since he had this group at his mercy. He was set to enjoy every last drop of it.
John drew himself back and stood up straighter but refused to respond verbally to Stefano's baiting. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and wiped all expression from his face, intent on letting Stefano finish this meeting.
Stefano inclined his head, satisfied by John's control. "Very commendable, John Black, very commendable indeed." He cleared his throat before broaching the eagerly awaited discussion. "The deal."
Hope stared at Bo before turning back. "What would this deal entail?" she asked, given in to her overwhelming curiosity. Even though she realized it was part of DiMera's game plan, that he was dangling carrots in front of them, she still couldn't resist the urge to question him.
"This deal would be a once in a life time event," Stefano guaranteed them arrogantly. "One that will never be repeated again, of course. And I drop it at the feet of my traitorous daughter. She alone has the power to accept or decline my generous offer."
Chloe was grateful for the solid support of John's arm around her. She clung to it mentally during the soft confrontation, which was veiled with hidden threats. "I prefer to call a spade a spade. It's manipulation, pure and simple," she told him smoothly.
"Call it whatever you like," Stefano flung back, failing at hiding his aggravation.
"What do we need to do in this deal?" Bo inquired hurriedly, anxious to draw Stefano's fire his way and give Chloe time to compose herself again.
Stefano tilted his head to look at Bo Brady. "Easy," he insisted evenly. "The five of you need to promise to leave Brady, Greta, and myself alone for the rest of the evening. Simple, clear-cut, and very easy to uphold."
While the rest of his friends looked puzzled, Ethan surmised the meaning promptly. The edges of his lips pulled down into a frown as he stated softly, "The whitewashing of your reputation. A brawl in an upscale restaurant would certainly taint it, wouldn't it?"
Stefano waited a beat before he answered affirmatively, "My thoughts exactly."
"All right, so we would need to agree to ignore your presence," John clarified, stunned by their part in the deal. He craned his neck and looked the devil in the eye. "What would you do for us?"
"That is undemanding," their nemesis answered with a sharp grin. "I will agree to meet with the five of you, later on this very evening. At this unprecedented meeting, I will be willing share with you many of the missing pieces in your research." He winked at his daughter. "I am aware of the large gaping holes and I would be ecstatic to fill them in."
Chloe drew back, startled by Stefano's declaration. "You will clarify this entire farce for us?" Somehow that didn't seem right. There had to be a catch somewhere, if they looked far enough into it.
Stefano spread his arms out in front of him in an expression of innocent supplication. "Yes. I have nothing to hide." He folded his arms across his chest and gazed intently at Chloe.
Chloe hid a shudder at his all-encompassing look. She knew that the answer was ultimately up to her. She had the only say in this all-important matter. Hoping it wouldn't come back to haunt her, she asked, her voice a thin thread of concern, "How do we know you will see this through?"
"When you return to the hotel, wait in your rooms. I will send a note to you with a time and a private place for our discussion." Stefano could see the resolve slipping from Chloe's expression. She was teetering on the edge and would fall in line, just like he wanted. "What do you say, Mrs. Black?"
Chloe kept her eyes trained on her father's smug face, her features as serene as possible under the strenuous circumstances. Without hesitating, she answered with as much strength as possible, praying inwardly that she was making the correct decision, "Yes."