Hi everyone! My name is Kara, and you may have read this story before. I know. My old name got deleted for another story that went against the rules. Well, Kianra's back and she's added a number to her name!! So, I'm putting up this chapter and chapter two. If you reviewed for one before, I'd love it if you could review again... and then review 2 too. Thanks. You don't have to do that though!!

Footsteps resounded down the brightly lit hall. A man in about his forties stood in the doorway. He was tall, about 6'2 and had dark brown hair that was slicked backwards. Golden eyes darted from here to there, demanding that someone even dare challenge him. But the one thing that really set him apart was the mask. He wore a white half mask over the one side of his face.

Other than the mask, he was a very handsome man. Christine stood slowly. "Erik." she breathed. "What are you doing here? How did you find where I live?"

"It's not hard, Christine," Erik said, stalking into the room and taking a seat on the chaise lounge, "To find out were the Vicomte de Chagney lives." the one visible eyebrow raised.

"But what are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I've simply come to say congratulations…" the man's gaze shifted to Christine's swollen abdomen. "…on your pregnancy. Baby de Chagney, eh?"

Christine's hands immediately cradled her stomach, as if she was worried that Erik would try to harm her unborn child. "Yes. The baby will be born next month."

The woman crossed the room and sat on the couch opposite of Erik. Her eyes cast down. "I'm truly sorry about what hap—" she began. Erik held his hand up and she closed her mouth.

"Where is your darling husband, Christine?" Erik said slyly.

"He's… out. Raoul is a very busy man." Christine blushed.

"Raoul is out of town again, is he?" Erik shook his head.

"Yes. But I love him so much that him being away just makes me love him more." Christine stated, standing up for her husband.

Erik's rich baritone laugh filled the room. Christine scowled. "Love him more? Indeed. It probably just makes you happy that he isn't at home to act like the fool he truly is. I just pray that your child is much like you, Christine, and not that wimp that calls himself a man."

"Erik! If you're going to speak of my husband that way, I must ask that you leave." Christine stood up. Erik did as well.

She watched warily as the man behind the mask stepped closer to her. Christine lowered her head, and averted her gaze. Erik put a single finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. Leaning in closely, Erik brushed her lips. Christine's eyes widened. She took a step back, and then sat on the couch.

"I promised him…" she whispered. Then with anger flashing in her brilliant blue eyes, she glared at Erik. "Leave me. Now! NOW!" then she stood and rushed out of the room as fast as her pregnant body would allow her.

Erik sighed and watched her go. Then he walked valiantly out of the grand looking house that must've cost Raoul only a small dent in his very large pocket, and hailed a carriage.

"459 Potters Drive." Erik demanded, telling the driver the address of his new home. The home beneath the Opera House had become too emotionally upsetting to him. Climbing into the carriage, the man made himself comfortable as the driver clicked at the horses to get them to go.

The drive wasn't particularly long, just a block or two away, but Erik had a lot to think about. What had driven him to kiss Christine? She was married now to that Raoul. He snorted loudly. Some marriage. The man was barely home, and Erik suspected something was going on. Political business did not fill your time so when you really cared for the woman that you called your wife.

As the driver pulled up to Erik's home, he stepped out and smiled. The house was quaint, out of the way two story, and perfect for him. It was made of a tan brick, and had a small pathway made of the same brick leading up the doorway. Flowers grew along side of the path, planted by Erik's house keeper, Mrs. Plof, who came once a week.

Plodding up the path, Erik's mind was still swirling. He unlocked the door and walked in. Ayesha, his cat, immediately came up to him and rubbed against his legs. Erik bent down to brush the hair off and patted the cat's head before he straightened.

Walking up the stairs, Erik came to his bedroom door and walked in. It was a boring room in reality, nothing was ever touched but the bed. A vase of red roses sat on his nightstand. Clearly Mrs. Plof had been there already for the week.

Erik lay back on the bed and rubbed his temples. Why him? Why was he plagued with such headaches. Shaking his head, Erik walked to his closet. Opening the door, he pulled out a large suitcase.

Something was going on with the Vicomte, and he was going to make it his job to find out. Only this morning, the paper had announced that there was a meeting in the Paris Opera house with the Vicomte to settle financial affairs. Then the Vicomte would be going to Italy to have a conference with some of his political friends. Erik suspected that there had to be something else going on.

When Erik had packed some suits and toiletries, he reached into his closet again. Pulling out his cape and fedora, Erik put them on and faced the mirror. He may no longer be the Phantom of the Opera, but he had to admit that he still looked pretty menacing in this outfit.

Walking out of the room, Erik strode down the steps and out of the front door, suitcase in hand. He saw that at the moment there were no carriages around. Walking up to his own small stable, Erik pulled out his black thoroughbred and mounted her. L'ange de Musique, as he'd named her, been his horse since the day that he had decided he needed something to do the day that he'd moved into the new house. At first he'd been skeptical about naming her something that he related to Christine, but then it'd seemed only fitting. 'Angel of Music' her name translated to, though Erik just liked to call her Ange.

Easing Ange out of the stable, Erik set off down the road. He had totally forgotten about his suitcase. But, he then thought, what do I need a suitcase for if I'm just going to be investigating the whole time?

Erik smiled at the thought of exposing Raoul at his worst moment. Ange cantered along the road. Erik held onto her with one hand, and held his Fedora on with the other. It was going to be a long, long trip.

I hope people enjoy this. It's going to be pretty interesting. The first part is just Erik exposing Raoul, while the second part is the aftermath of that.

R &R

Kara