Chapter 3
"Introductions"
I am the Phantom of the Opera…; the words resounded in her head. She took a step back and her hand went to her chest, as she was finding it hard to breathe. Her heart sank. So this is to be my end then…
Suddenly his hand flew to her throat, but only to lightly trace the silhouette of her neck with his fingertips. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I will ask you again, what is your name mademoiselle? It is in your best interest to answer me."
His last comment served only to ignite Isabella's temper. Refusing to be seduced into giving him an answer, she roughly pushed his hand away. She crossed her arms over her chest indignantly and replied, "It is none of your business who I am monsieur", the tone of her voice giving away her anger.
When he did not respond to her remark, she continued, "And furthermore, if you are the infamous Opera Ghost, why don't you already know who I am? I thought the Opera Ghost was supposed to know about all the happenings in his Opera House" , a smirk creeping across her face.
No person had ever rendered him speechless, and certainly no woman. If he had not been completely taken by her, he would have throttled her that moment, but he could not find it within himself to do it. It seemed he was growing soft as the years passed by.
His patience waning, he quipped, "If you had any sense at all, you would know that it is not wise to speak to your master in such a manner."
Had her ears betrayed her? No, he had indeed referred to himself as her master. "My master!" she nearly cried. " Monsieur Phantom, I have no master. I heed no one's words other than those of Madame Giry. I have never had a master and I do not plan on having one now."
"Well, what would you call me mademoiselle? If it pleased me, I could brutally end your life this moment." She gasped at his harsh words. "Or, I could allow you to live if you do as I say. Going by those facts, I would say that I am certainly your master."
"I think not" ,she hissed. Before he could grab her, she turned and made haste towards the practice room. Seething, he turned on his heel and stormed down the hallway towards his home.
As he was passing the dormitories, a thought occurred to him. A mischievous grin crept over his face as he whispered into the darkness, "We will meet again mademoiselle."