He left all his papers on the desk and locked the door to his study, smiling to himself. At last, the moment he had been expecting had come.
'Are you sure everything is ready, ladies?'. Two men were at the entrance of the residence, waiting impatiently the answer to their question.
Emma nodded. 'She will be there with Édmond in a few hours, monsieur'.
'Great…'. The other man, in his middle-ages, was grinning. 'Well, we are all looking forward to our happy little reunion. It's not that everyday you find the most wanted Viscountess'.
At this, he gave a courteous nod, put on his hat again and both men departed.
She woke up. It seemed that what she had bought at the chemist's was taking effect. She wouldn't have lasted a single night in that hole if it hadn't been for that wonderful drug. She was distressed and the feeling of suffocation was not helping. Édmond would keep refusing to give her her freedom back until she withered and died in there. How was she feeling? How was she feeling knowing that she would die in that place, alone? Anguished, not because of the fact that she was going to die but because that death would be low, cruel and inhuman. Nevertheless, the 'how' did not matter too much in the end. Whatever death was awaiting for her, it would be her sweetest release. With death she would find peace…and him.
She stood up and walked to the small toilet she had been using each and every one of the neverending days she had spent there. The same routine was driving her crazy. She barely saw the light of day anymore and found herself under the close vigilante of the dangerous and unpredictable man that had planned her uncertain future with careful detail.
'I'd like if you'd be ready in an hour. You'll be coming with me'.
She said nothing. Christine just nodded and came into her small and not too useful bathroom. As soon as she closed the door, she heard the familiar sound of the bolt. The unusual politeness of his request sounded eerie to her and it did nothing to calm her nerves.
The waiting seemed to be taking longer than necessary. However, before any of them could start doubting where the other man's true loyalties lied, a voice caught their attention.
'Messieurs', Édmond said. 'I've got her with me and she's waiting in the main hall'.
Jacques and Maurice nodded, immediately making their way to the room in question. There she was, sitting straight but submissively still, in one of the armchairs of Édmond's living-room. Her eyes were full of fear, her expression resigned as if she really wanted to scream but did not have the courage to do so. When she noticed their presence, the girl turned her gaze to them and stood up.
'Madame de Chagny, it's a pleasure meeting you at last…'. A smirk was beginning to show in Jacques' lips.
It seemed ironic thinking how, since that day, all his worries had decreased at least in some ways
The relationship between them had changed slightly, that was for sure. A strange complicity had settled between them, latent but not blatantly obvious. He was sure the moment would come when she would demand to know more about him, of his life. After all, he was nothing but an enigma in her world…
She had told him that he was a part of her world, a fundamental piece. Essential.
But, how was that posible? How could someone like him make someone feel so dependent of his love, of his presence? No. After she left, he had cast aside the possibility that someone could ever love him, just love him for who he was. With her gone, all the possibilities of ever thinking of love again disappeared. It was so contradictory! Contradictory, for Angie seemed to be devoted to him blindly, uninfluenced, unbounded…
How would the years that lied ahead of him be without her memory? Without listening to her voice, sweetly captivating? Without remembering, despite the pain, the softness of her skin, which his fingers had known only in some blissful moments? On one side, forgetting would be benefitial but, on the other, did he really want to free himself from her? From the one and only person that had really made his heart burn?
You broke your promise and made me realize it was all just a lie…
He sighed. No. Don't let her memory carry yourself to the abyss again… He was trying to convince himself of that, while he prepared his next movement in that kind of dangerous game he and the woman who'd return soon were both involved.
Christine's voice came out timidly. 'What do you want from me? I'd beg you not to address me by my former title, it's useless now…'.
'As you please…', Maurice motioned to her to take a seat. 'We have to ask you some questions…'.
She showed her consent by giving a sharp nod and waited for the avalanche of questions like the prisoner who assimilates his death penalty.
'You see, Christine', Édmond came near. 'We only want some answers, that's all'.
'Answers regarding what?', she looked at them rather harshly. 'Regarding my husband's family? Their fortune? Because, believe me, if that's what this is all about, I won't say a single word'.
'Listen, Mademoiselle', Jacques interrupted her rebellious outburst. 'I can assure you that you would have been as dead as your husband for a long time now. You must feel grateful at how lucky you've been so far and that you are speaking to us now and not six feet under. Remember you are one of the most wanted people in France…'.
'How do you know that?'. Fear was gradually taking over her as time went by.
'I thought we were the ones asking the questions here, Christine', Édmond intervened. 'You have a way to come out of this unharmed. Just answer the questions, listen to what they have to tell you and we'll be at peace…'.
Her mind went blank. She had been momentarily robbed of the capacity to react.
'Well…', Maurice returned to their conversation. 'We have an offer to make you… We can make a deal if you help us, all right? Tell us, Christine, during your marriage to the Viscount, did you ever speak to his father, Phillip?'.
She looked confused. 'Well, obviously I did talk to him on occasion, he was my father-in-law but our conversations were inconsequential… Why would you want to know that? I'm not here to clear the way to your evil purposes for you!'
'I told you to keep those impertinent questions of yours quiet', the tone of Édmond's voice had a dangerous tinge to it. 'We are only asking because you probably know where we can find something we have been searching for a long time. You can very well join us, collaborate and tell us how to obtain access to all the luxuries and properties of that wonderful family you belonged to for nine months or we can just deliver you to the highest bidder. It's your choice'.
Her body was trembling and lots of horrible thoughts were going through her mind. Surrendering and finish with that nightmare once and for all or escaping as soon as she had the chance… Her soul would not stand that tension anymore. It seemed that she was condemned to always choose between two decisions, two pathways, one that was safer and the other one, which was not so easy but more correct. She had learnt that lesson the hard way when she made the greatest mistake in her life and she would not let that happen again.
'You are so wicked, so…despicable', she stood bolt upright. 'I won't say anything, so you can very well start looking for another source of information because…', her breathing was quick, though she was restraining her anger. 'I won't take part in this farce!'.
She was already walking towards the back door when Édmond grabbed her arm and made her spin round brusquely so that they would stand facing each other.
'You won't get out of here…'.
Her hand, which was clutching the doorknob, began shaking when she felt the coldness in his statement. But this time she was determined not to let fear cloud her judgement and her willpower. She opened the door and got out of the house, without looking back. Once she was bathed in the light of day she kept running through the back alley. Soon, a breathless Édmond caught up with her and took hold of both her arms, pulling her from behind.
'Do that again and I'll make sure you will have neither none nor nowhere to turn to when this ends…'.
'I do not need a place to live in if that means living together with a dishonest person like you!'. Fury came in waves out of her mouth for the first time.
He sighed, exhausted. 'Well, if you want honesty I'll be honest for once. I hope this will be clear enough for you: the De Chagnys denied me the right to become part of their family, a family I belonged to as rightfully as Raoul, so…', Christine was already watching with fresh tears in her eyes. 'I worked and still do for the same people who killed him'. He finished the sentence with unashamed triumph.
Somehow she managed to shake off the offensive arms that prevented her from escaping. Then she cried. 'Forget me! You and all your damned sidekicks, forget I ever existed! Is that clear enough for you, monsieur?'.
After this, she started running again down the alley. She could not bear it anymore, the heavy weight of events was becoming too much for her exhausted shoulders. She wanted to rest…even her eyes were tired of crying and her soul was fed up with feeling lonely and troubled.
For twenty minutes, her light steps were carrying her downhill as she flashed past the Parisian streets. She remained on the alert. She knew they would have started looking for her as soon as she had abandoned the house and they surely had the means of catching up with her in spite of that shot of adrenalin which helped her increase her speed. Picking up the skirts of her dress and clutching her bag, she looked sideways in some dark lane and continued her race to nowhere.
That was until she found herself at the back entrance to the Opéra Populaire.