Author's Note: Regarding my question last chapter, I've only received one answer so far ― Rachelle Lefevre! You might know her as Victoria from Twilight and New Moon (unfortunately, those are the films she's most known for, according to IMDB). Does anyone else see her when Jovan shows up or do you guys see another actress in your heads? I'm really curious so let me know! Also, don't forget to leave a review when you reach the end of this chapter ― I'm especially anxious to know what you guys think about this one. As much as this is one of the pivotal moments in Jovan's story, this was also a very personal issue to approach.

TRIGGER WARNING/S: Sexual assault

TheImaginativeOne: Hey Tessa! I'm glad such a small detail made you smile! I hope you continue to enjoy this story, thank you!

PerilousRosella: Oh my, I'm glad you noticed! I was just trying to keep Erik in character as much as possible, even if it meant diverging from the way that he's usually portrayed in other fics. It's nice to know that I'm doing something right about how I write him, especially because he's really difficult to portray. Thank you!

Le Fantome: You're so perceptive, I'm amazed at the amount of details that you manage to catch with each chapter and whenever you include such in your reviews along with your thoughts, it always makes me smile! Thank you so much!

( twenty )

WHY ANGELS FALL

1873

The sunlight seeped through the window as Jovan ran her fingers down the cover of the book in her lap. It was a hardbound edition that her father had given her on her fourteenth birthday, and its pages were now well-worn from her extensive use of the book. But unlike the other afternoons where she would've enjoyed reading it on her window seat, Jovan found that she had no urge to drink in the words that the book held within its pages at the moment. There was just something so somber about the day that not a single muscle in her body was willing to move from her current position. Her mood was as dull as bright as the sun was outside, a sharp contrast. She closed her eyes and lost herself to the silence until her attention was claimed by a voice speaking behind her door.

"Miss Nathalie," the voice called out to her. "Your father requests for your presence in the front gardens."

She heaved a sigh before she gently placed the book down on the window seat as she rose from it, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress before she grabbed a shawl to complete her outfit. Well now her plans to simply keep to herself for the rest of the day was out of the equation. Silently, she slipped out of her room where one of the maids, Thea, awaited her.

"If I may be so bold, mademoiselle, but it'd be such a waste if you were the spend the whole day holed up in your room," Thea said.

"I've seen better days," Jovan answered in a monotone, putting on her shawl as she began to walk with the maid by her side.

"Doesn't mean you have to waste this one."

Before she knew it, Jovan's feet had led her out of the manor and into the way to the front gardens. Thea had long left her side to resume her tasks within the household, leaving Jovan to her own thoughts as she took her time in walking in the gardens as she searched for her father. While she had time left to herself, she spent it fixing how she held herself ― she squared her shoulders, straightened her back, and lifted her chin. As hard as it was, she curved her lips into a small smile to complete the facade. A moment later, she heard the soft sounds of an exchange between three people, two males and one female.

Jovan halted in her steps as she recognized the owners of the voices. Laughter rang out for a brief moment before they returned to their normal chatter. She sucked in a deep breath to steady herself as her clutch on her shawl tightened. Keep it together. God, what was she worrying about? She could do this. She'd been putting on a perfect, flawless facade for years now and she was absolutely sure that there were no visible cracks in her act.

She followed the source of the voices until she found herself approaching one of the gazebos in her father's estate. This one has three people occupying it as they immersed themselves in what seemed to her to be mindless chatter. Her father's form was unmistakable as he held a glass of brandy in one hand, a chuckle rolling off his tongue as he listened to a joke his brother was telling him.

Jovan swallowed as she let her presence be known.

"Father, you called for me," she greeted him, a smile playing on her lips as Raphael rose from his seat to greet her.

"Yes, sunshine," he answered as he approached her, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he led her up the gazebo and to the chair beside his. On his other side sat Rémi, his brother and her uncle, while Laurine sat opposite Raphael and on Jovan's other side.

"I thought you'd want to join us instead of wasting the day away locked up in your room," Raphael told her as he returned to his seat, taking a sip from the glass in his hand.

Jovan bit back a mean retort before it could escape her lips. "Glad to know that you thought about me," she answered with a light tone.

"How could we not, dearest?" Rémi answered opposite her and Jovan shot down the nausea that washed over her for a split second. She gave a mere chuckle at her uncle's words.

Laurine, Rémi's wife, turned to Jovan with a grin. "Pray tell, darling. You've been so quiet since Rémi and I arrived. You're not ill, are you?"

Jovan shook her head and gave her aunt a reassuring smile. "I'm perfectly fine, thank you. I'm just rather engrossed with this new book that Father gave me the other day." The lie that left her lips was flawless.

"Now, now, dearest. You really ought to get out every now and then too, you know," Rémi chastised her.

"I'm afraid Nathalie's not a social butterfly," Raphael answered for her, sending her a smile which gave her comfort in the very least.

She spent the next hour keeping up with their mundane chatter, throwing in her opinion every now and then to keep the conversation flowing and so as not to add fire to their doubts as to why she was so quiet these days. It was a taxing ordeal, having to appear interested in their humdrum topics while she faked smiles and laughter. If only her father would allow her a sip of his brandy then perhaps she wouldn't mind wasting her time like this. Jovan knew very well that the only reason why Raphael managed to keep up with the tedious chatter and gossip about other nobles was because of the glass of brandy in his hand. These days, he mostly drifted between states of sobriety and inebriety which helped him hold on to his sanity and the walls he had built around himself, much like her.

But her facade, a pristine and composed mask she wore, was threatening to crack under the stares she was receiving from the man opposite her. While she did her best to not meet Rémi's gaze, she could still feel his eyes roaming over her form every now and then. Jovan knew that if she made eye contact, she would only see the hunger burning in his eyes, licking at every inch of her in an attempt to sate his craving. She gritted her teeth at the thought when she decided that she could finally take no more of it.

"Father," she dared to interrupt the current conversation. Raphael glanced at her. "It's been lovely talking with you all but I wish to retire for the day now."

"Can't you stay until dinner, at least?" Laurine asked, eyebrows creasing in concern. "You could fill in Rémi and I about your adventures during the time that we were gone."

Jovan tried not to roll her eyes at the suggestion and simply gave a small smile. "Aunt, I have no adventures to speak of. But I'll be back for dinner, and perhaps you and Uncle Rémi can instead be the ones to regale Father and me with your adventures. After all, it was the two of you who went to Spain."

Mutters of approval came from the two men as Raphael gave her a grin. "Indeed, sunshine. I'm sure they'd love to tell us of their escapades during dinner later. But for now, go on." As he answered, he gave her a wink, an indication of him empathizing with her need to be alone after their small gathering. Jovan was grateful for his understanding, and stood to leave.

"Dearest, let me accompany you," Rémi suddenly piped up, standing up from his chair as well as he fixed his ascot. "I'm parched and in need of something other than your father's brandy to quench my thirst."

The double entendre of his words were not lost on Jovan as she felt her heart skip a beat. Raphael's laughter at his brother's jab was lost in the background as the roaring of her heart deafened her. She could feel the ice returning to her veins as her mind raced to find a way out of the problem.

"Uncle, don't trouble yourself," she said, perhaps a bit too quickly. "I'll send Thea to fetch you a glass of water."

But Rémi had already stepped down from the pavilion and was waving her off. "No need to bother Thea, I can do it myself."

Jovan was no longer in control of her feet as they led her away from the front gardens and back towards the manor. She knew she had to get away from him, but she knew better than to run as it would only draw the attention of the household staff. But as she heard the sound of his persistent footsteps emanating from behind her as she reached the grand foyer, every rational thought in her head slipped from her mind. The hairs at the back of her neck bristled as she felt his gaze on her once more. She seethed as she heard Rémi's pace quicken behind her. Throwing it all to hell, she was about to break into a run when she felt a hand grab a hold of her arm.

"Now, now, dearest. Running about the manor isn't how a lady should go," he whispered to her as he arrived by her side. He matched his pace with hers as they climbed up the staircase.

Jovan tried to tug her arm away but it was in vain. "Let go of me," she hissed, feeling her chest tighten.

"That's not any way to speak to your uncle, Nathalie."

"And this isn't any way to treat your niece, please."

Jovan was unable to keep her despair and her voice from rising as they neared her room. His grip on her arm only tightened and she let out a whimper before Rémi slammed her against the nearest wall. Pain flared up her back as he held her in place, seizing both her forearms and pinning them above her head. She struggled to free herself from his clutches, but he was much more stronger than her and the air was knocked out of her.

Rémi gave a quick scan of their surroundings behind his shoulder and only faced Jovan once he was sure that they were alone in the hallway. A guttural sound escaped from her throat as their eyes met, her eyes ablaze with venom.

"You know, I really missed you," he whispered as he lowered his lips to her ear, his breath straying to the skin of her neck.

Jovan sneered, her stomach turning in disgust. "S-stop it! Get off me! Someone will see us―"

Rémi's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes darkening. "It's just us in here, dearest. Why, do you prefer we take this to your room?"

At his words, she began to struggle harder against him, but he had his body pressed against hers to keep her from escaping him. The very feeling of him against her sent her head reeling with fear and fury while she felt her chest constrict further, as if driving all the air out of her. Jovan's mind was whirling with vicious thoughts as she felt his lips graze the skin of her collarbone, her heart pounding in her chest. Revulsion fueled every fiber of her being as she raised her knee with the intent of crippling him when the act was lost on her as she felt his hand fly to her throat, his fingers wrapping around her as he threatened to cut off her air supply.

"I'm going to scream," she bit out, gasping for air as he tightened his grip on her.

"No, you won't. You can't. And you know what will happen if you do."

Shutting her eyes tight for second, she felt tears prick her eyes as she struggled for breath. With that small movement, Rémi's fingers loosened around her throat in the smallest bit. Her thoughts were lost in a frenzy of disgust, hate, and sorrow as his other hand wandered to her skirts, his fingers pulling the fabric up, up, and up―

Please stop.

"You look so much like her," he growled.

Stop stop stop.

Jovan felt a single tear slide down her cheek before she felt Rémi pull away, her skirts dropping from his hand as he put distance between them. She collapsed against the wall as she saw, in the distance, an oblivious maid exit one of the rooms before she turned into a different hallway, leaving them alone once again. She was breathing in for air to fill her lungs when Rémi grabbed her again, this time holding her by both her upper arms as he pulled her closer towards him instead.

They stood in the middle of the hallway as Jovan put her hands against his chest in an effort to keep some distance between them. The pain she felt in her arms from his grip was nothing compared to the wild way her heart was racing, constricting her chest and her throat as she struggled for breath. She held back her tears as she tried to pull away from him.

"Shush, dearest. You know better than to try me, don't you? You don't want dearest Raphael to get into another accident, don't you?" he cooed into her ear as she quietly threw at him every curse she knew. Then with unprecedented speed, he pressed his lips to hers.

Red began to cloud her vision as she felt her veins light up with fury. Fear tightened its cold claws around her heart. Every inch of her began to tremble. Desperate to put a stop to it, she let her teeth find his lower lip, and when she did, she bit down on it hard, and Rémi pulled away with a shriek of pain.

As he backed away from her, Jovan hurriedly wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her dress in an attempt to erase the taste of him from her tongue. She watched Rémi's bewildered expression as he touched his lip, and he pulled his hand away from his mouth to see blood on his fingers, crimson trickling from the spot where she had bitten him. He lifted his gaze to glare at her, anger glinting in his eyes.

"You bitch―"

"Rémi?"

The new voice came from the end of the hallway. Jovan tore her gaze away from her uncle as she saw Laurine standing in the distance, her hand hovering before her mouth which hung open. Horror chilled every fiber of Jovan's being as the woman began to walk towards them with an ndecipherable look on her face, her eyes cold as ice.

"Laurine, listen to me―" Rémi began but Jovan cut him off.

"It was him!" she screamed, jumping at her first chance to finally out Rémi for the devil that he was before the opportunity could slip away from her. She desperately grabbed at it like a life line.

Please please.

"Laurine, please!" Jovan began to approach the blonde. "It's Rémi, he's been doing this to me―"

Stars burst across her vision as she felt Laurine's hand collide with her cheek. Jovan's legs crumpled beneath her from the unprecedented force as her cheek began to throb from the slap. The dam broke and her tears fell freely as she dropped to the floor. As quickly as it had come to life, the small spark of hope was extinguished in her chest, leaving nothing but coldness that began to suffocate her. Laurine towered over her fallen form as the woman seethed, venom dripping from every word that left her lips.

"How dare you!" Laurine spat. "You dare to blame Rémi for your own wickedness, you harlot? You dirty, cheap―"

No no no no no―

A sob wracked Jovan's body as her mind barely registered Rémi rushing to his wife to stop her from doing anything rash. She struggled against his arms as he pulled her away from Jovan while she spat profanities at the redhead, every word a sharp blow to Jovan's pride as she felt herself snap. Like glass, she felt cracks rupturing over her facade as she was bared for the world to see to what she had been reduced to ― an object, a plaything, a victim of obsession. Control was slipping away from her fingers and she was helpless to do anything about it. A cry of despair strangled its way out of Jovan's throat.

She felt her heart break as she found herself desperately wishing that she was anywhere else in the world but there.