A/N: In the words of Mz. Kelsi – "Holy cow!" I sure got you all ruffled with that last chapter. I can feel your hatred of the fop from over here. If I were Raoul, I would be less worried about Erik and more worried about you phangirls. To answer a common question, yes, Christine did mail her letter when she left the inn before heading to La Scala. And secondly, I only know of 3 people who picked up on all my subtle little hints about a major upcoming plot twist in this chapter. So, if you didn't see this one coming, hey, I left the bread crumbs. The trail was there to follow.

phantomann: Wow, lady you are serious. Ban me from MSN and replace all my Gerry pics with Piangi and Raoul – I mean that is just CRUEL! But an angst lover, I have to admit, that makes me love you even more. Here is another 4,000+ word offering, probably written in my blood from typing my fingers down to stubs to satisfy your impatient nature.

Mystic Darkness: Great screen name. Welcome to the fic. I am starting to hear a lot of chants of "Die, fop, die!" from my faithful readers. I suppose one must eventually give in to the will of the people...

Twinkle22: Okay, be careful with those heart conditions ladies. I have already got Ophelia-Rose in the bed next to Nadir. I am trying to update more quickly as the drama heightens to avoid a rash of phangirl heart attacks.

diveprincess: OUCH! A cliff, really? Wow. That is no fun at all. Were you thinking of Erik and just sort of wandered off, or what? Well, I will try to provide you with some reading material during your long recuperation.

dramatic-singer: I do believe in them, though that doesn't necessarily mean that I write them that way. You will just have to suffer for a while.

Pertie: "Super-charged angst" – I like that. Well, you will not have to wait long, dear. I am reeling you in as we speak.

draegon-fire: Sorry. In my mind, Raoul showed up at the Teatro Comunale and asked where Christine was. That is how he found out she was at La Scala. He is pretending to be her husband after all. Sometimes I forget that you all don't have the same info that I do because I keep a lot of it in my brain and forget what I have included and what I haven't.

The Divine Miss M: A Bette Midler fan, by any chance? Sorry for the angst, but welcome to the fic. Stay tuned.

lafemme540: At least you were just muttering about him and not angrily calling for his bloody, painful demise. But you do NOT sympathize with him anymore, right? Otherwise, I don't know if there is any hope for you.

erikfan: Raoul is a "disgusting worm". Erik should have bloody revenge. Got it and totally agree. As for Nadir, I can't promise anything either way. He is definitely still alive in this chapter, if that helps.

Ophelia-Rose: Careful with that heart condition or we are going to have to put you in the guest room alongside Nadir. Loved your rant about the fop. You are not alone in your despising.

XCiel: Erik will suspect something once he calms down a bit, don't worry. But initially, his reaction will probably be what you would expect.

darklady5289: You are not alone in wishing Raoul a slow and agonizing death at Erik's hand. In fact, you are in the vast majority with this group. Yes, Erik will be initially heartbroken, but of course his wrath will be vicious once he finds out what the fop has done. He owes him so major pain now.

eternalcelestial: An elephant-sized porcupine? Really? They have those? Very original method of torture for the fop, I must say. And you are going oversees? No fair. Go to Florence, there is a hot masked guy there who is going to be available by the end of this chapter.

xxphantomphanessxx: Very sneaky, reviewing under a different chapter – a move worthy of Erik. Okay, to answer your many questions. Yes, Christine sent the letter the morning she arrived at La Scala. Yes, it was addressed correctly and Erik receives it in this chapter. Yes, the flowers are indeed from Erik. He mentioned in the last chapter that he sent a messenger to her with his note, the ring, and no doubt the flowers on the day that she left. Yes, it is true that everyone at La Scala does believe R is C's husband, unfortunately, at least for the time being. And yes, Christine does sort of include a secret message in her note, but it will be Nadir that figures it out first. As for losing readers, I don't appear to be yet, tons of reviews for this one. You all must love torture, 'cause you keep coming back for more!

Hearts Aflame: Heck, as I said to Jema below you, I think Christine could take these two clowns. C won't risk having anything happen to E though, but if she were to warn him and he came of his own accord...

JemaModa: I think you are right. Those are universal male chest-beating behaviors employed when a man is deeply threatened by another man of obviously superior talent, intelligence, physical appearance, and just general sexiness. His are the words of a desperate man. And really, Raoul's bad boy self is pitiful. I think even Christine could take him if she wasn't in a delicate way at the moment. You will laugh at her thoughts about him in this chapter. I think a few of my own feelings concerning Raoul sort of seeped through into her brain.

Ch. 24 – To Steal an Heir

When Christine arose the next morning, she immediately felt a wave of nausea as she remembered the previous night's events. Her sleep had been fitful at best, fraught with dreams of Erik's stricken face when she had left him beneath the Opera Populaire. She lay staring at the ceiling for many moments, trying to clear her tangled mind.

There must be a way out of this mess, she thought desperately. Perhaps if I were to try to talk to Raoul alone, I could somehow make him see the madness of all this. He loved me once, perhaps I can use that to my advantage now.

She raised her left hand to admire her ring. It was so beautiful, so warm and lovely on her hand. Christine felt ill at the thought of having to remove it from her finger. The love that it represented seemed to radiate from it, giving her fresh courage. No, she resolved, if she were forced to return it, she would find a way to alert Erik to the situation secretly so that he wouldn't for a moment think she had truly refused him again.

Resolute now in her plans, Christine attempted to quickly rise from her bed, but found when she did so the room darkened for a moment, and she felt distinctly dizzy. What on earth is the matter with me? She had always been prone to fainting under stress, but usually only when she was wearing a corset. She held out a hand to steady herself against the bed post.

Finally, she trusted her wobbly legs and began to dress. Perhaps she was weak because she hadn't eaten the day before. That seemed logical. But at the thought of food, her stomach rebelled violently until she felt she would vomit. A sudden suspicion crossed her mind, causing her to pause with her dress halfway over her hips.

No, she thought, it couldn't be. After all, I was married for six years and never conceived before... But thinking back, she realized her monthly bleeding was overdue. It all fit: the nausea, the light headedness, the lack of appetite – she was pregnant!

Her mind raced as she hurried now to dress. But how could this be? Despite the fact that she had dreamed of being the mother of Erik's children, she had always believed that the chances were slim. After all, part of the reason Philippe had resented her as Raoul's wife had been her seeming inability to have a child.

Christine stopped, her hands pausing abruptly on the buttons of her dress.

It was not me. I wasn't the one incapable of conceiving. It was Raoul who was unable to father a child.

The answer was obvious. To her knowledge, Philippe had never fathered a child either, despite his philandering. All along the two had been so quick to condemn her when it hadn't been her failing at all!

Her hands reached down protectively to her abdomen. Inside her now was the beginning of a new life, an innocent life that she and Erik had created from their love. Despite the horrible mess with Raoul, she could not help but weep for joy. When her tears dried at last, she was even more resolved to fight against Fate this time. No matter what she had to do, she would not allow Erik's child to be brought up in Raoul's home.

She needed to hurry or she would be late for her first day of rehearsal. For the moment, her other troubles would have to wait. With a grimace, she remembered that Raoul had said he would be returning today so she left the door unlocked. She needed to attempt to talk some sense into him anyway and she did not want rumors flying around the opera house that she had locked her "husband" out of her dressing room.

Willing her stomach into submission, she headed down the long corridor toward the stage. Smiling, she once again touched a gentle hand to her stomach. "Well, little one, you are about to have your very first taste of music," she whispered softly. "Your soul is certain to be filled with it."

Erik sat awaiting the post anxiously on the portico bench. It had been nearly three days since he had sent the letter containing his proposal to Christine. He was nearly certain she would accept, but was eager to read her reply for himself. This time everything felt right and very natural between them, instead of forced and tainted with dishonesty as in the past. For once in his life, he felt confident of their relationship. But still, he awaited her words of love and acceptance as impatiently as any child.

When the postman arrived, Erik noticed an envelope addressed in Christine's hand immediately. He thanked the man a bit more enthusiastically than usual and walked back to his bench to sit down and read without distraction.

Casting the others aside with no heed, Erik carefully opened the envelope and withdrew a single page. Sudden anxiety plagued him. What if he was wrong about her feelings? What if she refused him once again? He took a deep breath and began to unfold the page.

After several moments of reading, he paused, and with a puzzled expression lifted the envelope to look at the postmark. It was dated the day after Christine had left. Although the words were warm and loving, it made no mention of his proposal. Surely if she had received it, she would have mentioned it. She must have sent this before she reached La Scala, he thought.

On one hand, he was disappointed, knowing he would have to wait at least another day to hear her answer. On the other, though, he couldn't help but smile at how much she seemed to genuinely miss him and how understanding she had been about his absence at her departure. He thought of her on the stage of La Scala in front of an entire adoring audience, but singing just for him and his heart soared. Her words of love left him no doubt that she would accept his proposal as soon as she received it. All that remained were the arrangements, and then Christine would be his wife at last.

When Erik appeared upstairs with the breakfast tray promptly at 9:00, as had become the routine, he had a noticeable lightness to his step and an expression closely resembling a smile on his face. Nadir noticed the change immediately.

"You have heard from Christine," he stated knowingly as he accepted the tray. "She has accepted then?"

Erik's face fell a bit, but he replied cheerfully, "Not yet. But I did receive a letter from her. I believe she sent it before she received my proposal."

Nadir chuckled. "Well it has obviously bolstered your confidence. Up until today, you have been stalking about like an old bear." He dug into his omelets with his usual vigor. With the aid of Erik's fine cooking, he was beginning to regain his strength and add some much needed breadth to his thin frame.

Erik was encouraged to see his friend looking so greatly improved. He intended to do all that he could to aid the Daroga in his recovery. After all, he owed the man a great deal and sincerely valued his friendship. But he had to admit he was also anxious to have the Persian return to health quickly so that he might be able to attend Christine's first performance at La Scala. It was only a few weeks away.

He was already aching for her in her absence. His bed still smelled of lavender and he missed her soft, warm body in his arms and long curls spread out across his chest in the morning sunshine. He had spent every evening in their usual spot watching the stars appear, but somehow they seemed only stars without her presence beside him. Everything lost its magic without Christine.

Besides, he knew she would want him there with her for her debut. She would be nervous, but she had always trusted his opinion of her abilities. His faith in her seemed to help her find faith in herself. Despite everything else between them, he had been her teacher first and when she sang, that special bond remained. As he watched Nadir eat with the enthusiasm of a growing boy, Erik felt confident his friend's health would return sufficiently in time for him to see Christine by opening night.

At last, Nadir set his tray aside. "How about a game of chess, my friend? It will help to pass the time for both of us?"

Erik nodded and retrieved the board and pieces from the desk. After all, there was nothing else to do but wait. He sighed. Patience had never been his strongest suit.

Christine returned from rehearsals with a smile on her face. Everyone had been very kind and accepting of her from the moment she had walked onto the stage. She had already met one girl, a tiny blonde ballerina named Marguerite, who reminded her very much of Meg. The two had become fast friends, despite the disproving looks of a few of the senior cast members at a ballerina's boldness in approaching a prima donna. She had agreed to meet Marguerite for lunch tomorrow after rehearsals and was sincerely looking forward to an opportunity for some female companionship.

And then of course, there was her wonderful secret. She wasn't certain, it was true, as she had never been pregnant before, but still her heart soared at the idea. She was humming cheerfully as she entered her room, but her expression of joy was quickly replaced by distaste.

"Greetings, my dear. You seem in a particularly good mood this morning. Have you come to your senses at last and realized your good fortune that I am willing to forgive your indiscretions and accept you once again as my wife." He was sitting on the divan, ridiculously overdressed for an afternoon visit, and wearing a look of smug confidence that made her want to slap him again. But if she were to attempt to appeal to his kinder feelings toward her, she realized she could not afford to anger him, nor allow her utter disgust for him show.

"Good afternoon, Raoul. Prompt as usual. Quite a lovely day outside, isn't it?" She seated herself across from him, smiling pleasantly, as if truly enjoying his company.

Raoul seemed surprised at her welcoming demeanor, but he appeared to relax slightly. "I have come to be certain you keep up your end of the bargain. There is the matter of the ring..." He looked uncomfortable at its prominent position on her left hand.

"Raoul, before we discuss that, I need a chance to speak with you about the past...and the future." She reached forward and took his hand, relying on every acting skill she had ever possessed to keep herself from recoiling at his touch.

She stroked it lightly with her thumb as she spoke, her eyes wide, and she hoped, sincere looking. "Raoul darling, I am so sorry for how I have hurt you in the past. I know I have wounded you deeply. You were a devoted, loving husband and I dishonored you with my unfaithful heart. Please forgive me." It nearly killed her to speak the words, and by the end, she had to whisper them through painfully clenched teeth, but still, she was proud of her effort. Her smile did not waver in the slightest.

Raoul looked shocked at her sudden plea for forgiveness and his face softened noticeably. He still loved her beyond all reason, and he could not stop the eager bud of hope that began to blossom in his chest. "Christine, I am sorry if I was insensitive last night. It is just that I have missed you so..." He laid his other hand atop of hers and brought hers to his lips.

Christine fought the urge to resist, reminding herself that this Raoul was one she could reason with. She could not waste this opportunity. "Raoul, you know I will always care for you. You were my dearest childhood friend and my husband for six years. I will never forget that."

He smiled, looking like a little boy who had just been promised ice cream. Christine struggled not to roll her eyes with impatience. "But you see, so much has happened over the last two years, I can hardly expect you to take me back now."

Raoul's smile faded a bit. "I don't understand, Christine, I have told you that I have forgiven you for everything. And I meant it."

Christine gave a sad smile, hoping she appeared deeply repentant. "Raoul, I am very sorry. I cannot marry you. I must marry Erik now. I am carrying his child."

The news seemed to strike him like a blow to the face. His head fell into his hands and he appeared suddenly weakened. Christine felt the beginnings of relief. She was certain he would never accept her while she harbored Erik's child. But when he raised his eyes, they were burning with a fresh fire of renewed hatred.

"His child," he whispered in a deadened voice, "You are carrying his child. After all the years I hoped and prayed for a son with you. And now, in a matter of weeks with that creature, you blossom like a flower under his bloody hands," he snarled the last words. and Christine unconsciously drew back.

He sprung from the divan and grasped her by the arm, dragging her roughly to her dressing table.

"Write the letter," he hissed.

Christine merely stared at him. This was a side of Raoul she had never seen before. She was both saddened and frightened by the sudden change in his demeanor from the cheerful gentle friend of her youth to a desperate, violent man. Her hands were shaking as she withdrew a few sheets of paper and a quill.

Raoul pulled a chair up beside her, his voice an obvious threat. "Let me warn you, Christine, that I intend to read every word and see that it is delivered myself. Do not forget that I have only to say the word and your lover will be dead. "

She nodded mutely and paused. What on earth could she say? After her previous letter, Erik would never understand her sudden change of heart.

All at once, she had an idea. Keeping her voice soft and complacent, she asked timidly, "Might I tell him that you and I are planning to be married? After all, I have to give him some explanation."

She held her breath. Erik knew enough of her and Raoul's past to know she would never willingly marry him after the disaster of their first marriage. That information in combination with the love letter she had sent him on her second day in Milan should be enough for him to suspect something was wrong and come to find her. Raoul was indeed naive to think that Erik would let her go so easily. She fervently hoped that his jealousy and crazed desire to wound Erik would continue to cloud his reason and that he would foolishly grant her request.

Raoul thought for a moment. "Yes, I think that would be quite fitting. Let him think you are running off with me. That would explain your refusal quite nicely and most likely anger him sufficiently to keep him from coming after you as well." He looked supremely pleased with himself, as if it had been his own idea and he was imagining the look on Erik's face when he read it.

Keeping her face entirely expressionless, Christine began to write. When she was finished, Raoul quickly read through it, smiling with obvious delight at the pain it would no doubt cause his rival.

"Very good, my dear. It was genius to mention our intention to start a family as soon as possible. Then when our son is born, that monster will have no suspicion that the child might have been his." He tucked the letter back into the envelope and placed it in his jacket pocket.

As he turned to leave, Christine let out a silent sigh of relief. At least she had warned Erik and had hopefully bought them some time.

As Raoul moved towards the door, he turned back. "By the way, I have decided that it is not wise for us to remain in Florence any longer than is absolutely necessary, though I have not forgotten my promise to allow you to sing. You will sing at the opening performance in two weeks' time. Then, you will inform the manager of your condition, and regretfully request to be released from your employment so that you may rest while we await the birth of our first born."

Christine looked at him in horrified shock.

"Perhaps Fate is finally repaying me for all the pain that miserable man has caused me. I will have my heir at last and he will never know of his. Poetic justice, don't you think?" He did not wait for her answer, but stepped out, slamming the door behind him.

The next day, Erik sat awaiting the post on the portico bench as usual. His anticipation was especially high now that he had received Christine's first note, and he found he had a hard time sitting still. When the postman arrived, he simply grabbed the letters from him, forgetting to thank him entirely. Seeing her familiar neat hand, he grinned widely, taking the letter into the house to read at the kitchen table. He tore it open impatiently, and spread it out before him on the table.

His eager grin gradually came to be replaced by confused disbelief as he read. His hands shaking, he carefully turned the envelope upside down and shook it. A platinum band encircled with diamonds fell out into his hand. He stared at it for a moment as it glittered mockingly from his palm. How could he have been so wrong? How could she do this to him all over again? His mind reeled and he felt as if someone had punched him hard in the stomach.

Erik overturned the table violently as he stood, his pain fueling his anger. "Once again I lay my heart out for her only to have her trample on it for the sake of that miserable boy. Never again," he raged, "NEVER AGAIN!" At his last words, Erik threw the ring out the open window and stalked out the front door, shattering a vase of flowers and a picture from the wall with the force of its resounding slam behind him.

Hearing the commotion downstairs, Nadir made his way down as quickly as he could to investigate. When he reached the kitchen, he saw the wreckage of Erik's apparent wrath scattered all around the kitchen. He wondered what on earth had made Erik lose his temper so.

Looking down at the floor, he spotted a crumpled piece of paper. Smoothing the wrinkles from it, he read in disbelief:

Dear Erik,

I am afraid that recent events have compelled me to refuse your proposal and thus, to return your ring. Raoul has come back to me, you see, and he has asked me to once again be his wife. I have no choice but to accept his offer. He and I have a great deal of history together, as you well know, and we will be starting a family very soon. Know only that I do this now to spare you any further pain.

Please forgive me.

Christine

Nadir closed his eyes in sympathy for his wounded friend. Christine had no idea the damage she had done.

Or did she? Looking down at the last line, he pondered her words. "Know only that I do this now to spare you any further pain." It seemed as if she was attempting to make Erik understand something beyond her words. In fact, when he reread the entire letter, he realized that the whole thing seemed awkwardly written, as if someone had been reading over her shoulder. And the very idea of Christine returning willingly to Raoul seemed to his mind ludicrous after how desperate she had been to be free of him and find Erik in the past. Nadir remembered the look on Christine's face the day she left for Milan. "There is nothing more important to me in this world than Erik," she had told him. Her eyes had held no doubt and no deception.

Nadir's forehead wrinkled in thought. No, this whole thing made no sense at all. And once Erik calmed sufficiently, he would see that as well. Nadir would be certain of it.