He had her in front of him. Her eyes seemed surprised, probably because of the fact that he had given into wearing her scarf. His thoughts drifted to the previous night. She had been the only person who had not screamed nor falled in a state of shock when seeing his face for the first time. And she had even tended to his wounds. Perhaps it was the moment to go on with what she had started.

Angie looked at him attentively. 'I…I've left everything on your desk as always. If there's anything to do that can't wait until tomorrow, I'll be around. I just need a break…'. She gave a quick glance to his hand, which was still hurt and covered with the dressings she had put the night before. 'I'm glad to see your hand is getting better...'

Erik came closer, taking her arm just as she was turning her back to him. 'Wait', his voice was soft, irresistibly captivating. 'I wanted to tell you something…'.

She stopped and turned to face him in the most casual way, waiting for him to give her another order. Perhaps, with the distraction, she had forgotten to do something or...

She felt how the distance between them shortened until they were nearly touching. Once again she started to feel everything that having him so near implied: confusion because of his attitude and the fast pulse that thundered from her racing heart through all her body...

Erik took her chin with amazing gentleness. He could feel how she trembled at his touch. He was nearing his lips to hers: his rage towards Christine still burnt deep inside him and this only made his thirst for revenge increase. She stared, uncertain of the reason why all of that was happening.

But, God, reason fleed when she felt his lips pressed on hers, making her close her eyes and loose in the sensations. Something inside her awoke and urged her to deepen their kiss, slowly guiding her until she leant a hand on his torso.

Erik corresponded with tenderness, placing his hands on both sides of her small waist. Kissing her was not unpleasant but the kiss lacked the feeling of Christine's. The reason was simple. He was not in love with Angie, even though she seemed to harbour some kind of infatuation with him. Her feelings for him were surely something passing which would disappear as soon as they had begun, they would vanish like steam shortly.

Gradually, they moved away from each other. The girl's lips formed a dreamy smile of fulfilment.

'Well?', she said, feigning indifference, though the brief sigh which accompanied her question gave herself away. 'Was that all you wanted to tell me?'.

He smiled. She had always a witty reply for every of his unpredictable reactions. 'Well…', he said, moving backwards. 'It's my way of saying thank you. And that was something that had been left hanging between us…'.

Smirking, he retired for the night. She remained, pensively, until she found out the meaning of his last words. That day when she had tried to kiss him. She laughed to herself, without really knowing if it was out of happiness or because of the brilliance of that man's genius. Her genius…

A couple of hours afterwards, her fingers were sewing tirelessly, mending and embroidering one of the many hats which had been ordered to her. Her head was lowered, focused on the tricky task. Her hands showed superficial scars due to her lack of practice and experience...

But something caught her attention. The presence of two people who were watching her through slitted eyes with suspicion and anger.

'I believe we must talk, girl', Emma spoke at last.

Christine lifted her eyes little by little and swallowed audibly, fearing something without knowing what it was. She left the nearly finished hat on the table next to her and casually smoothed down the skirts of her poor and simple dress.

'And what is...that matter you want to discuss with me?'. She felt as if all her body were trembling under her skin.

Marie looked at her and grabbed her arm so brutally that she was pulled from her seat to a standing position.

'You'll find out immediately. Follow us'. The tone of her voice was cold and her request sounded more like an order.

They led through the corridors until they arrived to a room that looked like a study or private office. Once inside, the two women faced Christine.

'Sit down. We have to ask you womething'.

She nodded, frightened, and obeyed.

'Good...', Marie came closer. 'Just as my partner has told you, there's something that's got us worried since yesterday'. She pressed a hand on the armrest of her chair, staring directly into her eyes. 'We only want to make sure that you haven't heard rumours and other false murmurs'.

How was that posible? How was it posible that they knew that she had been spying on their conversation? That would be her undoing...her undoing.

She tried to smile, as naturally and openly as she could. 'That's imposible, Madame. You know as well as I do that I'm not allowed to come out without your consent and, well, you'll understand that I've been able to hear very little from here'. She prayed on all Heavens that they believed her story.

Marie kept staring for a moment, making her believe that she had been convinced by her lies. There were seconds, tense neverending seconds, until she spoke again.

'You are lying!', she said, slapping her hard on the face and pulling her from the chair by both her arms. 'You are lying, bloody spoilt Viscountess!'. Marie threw her sharply to the floor.

Emma decided to intervene in that moment. The girl looked horrified to both of them, through tears.

'Yes, we know perfectly well who you are...Christine de Chagny'. She gave her such a merciless kick on her side that the younger woman cried out in pain.

'Please…', she managed to say in a broken voice, defeated. 'Please…'.

Both stared contemptously.

'Stop the useless pleas, child'. Marie closed in the distance between her and the terrified humiliated figure that lied on the floor. 'You are now our property to do as we wish and you'll continue with us until we find necessary'.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she looked at them. Her scared look turned into one of pure rage.

'No…'. She got up with much effort. 'I neither belong to you nor to your plan nor to anyone!', she shouted. 'The only person I've always belonged to is not here anymore. Do you understand that?', her sobs were becoming louder. 'He died and without the chance that I could tell him all that I had kept to myself!'.

Without farther ado, she reached the door, covering her face with her hands. Both restrained her so that she could not leave the room but the apparently weak girl drew un unparalled strength from nowhere and pushed them away from her way. Today she would abandon that house. She would put an end to that slavery and maybe...and end to everything.