A/N: Okay, since I promised that this would be my favorite chapter, I sort of jammed it all in here, so I apologize if it's longer than all the other chapters. Hahaha

Chapter 21: A Solitary Prayer

"She looked at me. Maybe she was trying to tell me something; I don't know...

But I'll always love her. All my life."

-Brant Tucker sees Death, in SANDMAN #56: "World's End"

Julian Merteuil was both feared and revered by many. During his funeral, hundreds of people attended out of the former, and even though he was mentally fucked up, he had been responsible for some major landmarks in the Paris business economy; therefore, for this reason alone, aside from his narcissism, he had, in his will, instructed, that should he die, he would have two graves. One in Marseilles, to mark his beginnings, and one in Nice, where Belinda and Kathryn had visited before their departure for New York. This was so his other 'friends' could come pay their respects to the powerful billionaire, although his grave had been virtually empty of visitors aside from the occasional lost tourist who was dumb enough to mistake his million dollar crypt for an actual house. The crypt in Marseilles contained his actual body, kept in a special coffin that preserved his remains.

Today, though, Julian Merteuil's crypt was not empty. Aside from the other oblivious workers who had answered a strange request from businessman Mathieu De Comte, there were three people standing in front of the gleaming marble, a brown haired man dressed in an impeccable suit, golden eyes fixed wholly on the taunting remains of the businessman. He was accompanied by Belinda Van Ryan, whom the workers had been salivating over for the past ten minutes they'd all been there, awaiting their instructions to cut through the marble. Then, there was a petite woman on his right side, the favored one, apparently. Though the man had a reassuring arm on Belinda's shoulder, it was clear that his focus was on the exquisitely beautiful woman who bore such luxurious brown locks she looked like a life sized doll.

The three didn't speak as they watched the workers prepare their tools, but in their minds, they each had their own questions to ask. No one wanted to say it out loud.

There's a certain irony to be found in this for the two women who now stood in front of the polished marble that bore the name of their father. The beauty of the city escaped them, because despite the magnificent sight of Marseilles, all they saw was their sad and hollow world of lies. They saw filth where it had none, the image of blood stained bed sheets still fresh in their minds. It was true, they had grown up to be the beautiful, powerful women they were, but like every other human being, they did have a weak point. This was it. The awful truth of their fucked up childhood that if known, could make them spend the rest of their natural born wealthy lives suffering the pitying gazes and whispered gossip behind their backs.

They were not victims. They hated being pitied.

Being pitied was the last thing on Kathryn's list, and while the gorgeous brunette merely glared at the ogling morons who took twice the time in assembling their piece of crap machinery because they were too preoccupied with her and Belinda, she realized that then again, coming back to Marseilles had been on the last thing on her mind too. And now, there she was, surrounded by the coldness of everything her father stood for, vanity, with his preserved body, wealth, with his magnificently constructed crypt that was to be cleaned everyday, and power, which was the symbolism for the whole thing. He wanted to have the best crypt because it put him above all the other wealthy deceased people in the graveyard. But what good had it done? He died alone, that is, if he'd died at all. Her decision to forbid Sebastian from coming with them was the same as the item in the long list of the things she never wanted and despised. Try as hard as he might, Sebastian would still have some form of pity each time he'd look at her. It was understandable, of course. Mathieu had been the same when Belinda was institutionalized and he'd found out from her therapists that she was raped, but as the years passed, the look of pity in her fiancé's face had turned into pride. Pride at what she'd accomplished and become. When he found out that Kathryn had been molested as well, there was none of that pitying look left in his golden eyes. Belinda had taken it all, and once again, as was the case with their father, she was glad her sister had taken something from her.

Of all the people to feel sorry for her, it would have to be Sebastian she would kill for just to not be in that list. Regardless of whether or not he understood her reasons, she was glad that he didn't press on the issue further.

But then again, Sebastian wasn't one to let things go so easily.

"Unbelievable." Belinda said slowly, her gray eyes amused as she faced the outside of the crypt. Mathieu was busy yelling at one of the workers who'd had to replace a faulty tool and it was only Kathryn who caught the blonde's surprised reaction.

"What?" she demanded crossly, turning around to follow Belinda's gaze. "Is it him? Is it Pa—"

Her heart stopped, green eyes widening behind the oversized sunglasses. Suddenly the freshly cut grass of the cemetery caught her attention, she heard the soft rustling of the trees as another breeze passed, she acknowledged the immaculate sight of her hometown, the cerulean skies and the wisps of cotton candy clouds being noticed. Why? Because amidst the immense beauty of her first home, there was somebody that both complemented and contrasted the surroundings walking towards her somberly and hardheaded as hell, handsome face looking impassive and quite frankly a bit hesitant, crystal blue gaze directed to her unreadable expression.

Sebastian. Was. There.

"God," she gasped. A juxtaposition of rage, gratitude, and something she can't fathom whirled through her, a big mass of different thoughts causing her large green eyes to widen.

Of all the hardheaded and idiotic things to do…

"Tell him I'm going out for a walk." Kathryn muttered, her heels clicking as she strolled out of the crypt. Mathieu finally realized she was leaving and threw a questioning glance at his companion, who merely smiled.

"Darling, I do believe you're losing."

Mathieu's stare focused on the young man Kathryn was headed to, but he chose to be indifferent about it. Raising his eyebrows at Belinda's comment, he could only chuckle.

"It seems you're not playing fair. You told him where we'd be, didn't you?"

"Well, we never established the ground rules, now did we?"

---

She doesn't look too pissed off. He wondered, stopping in his tracks as soon as he realized Kathryn was headed towards him. But then again, with Kathryn, you can never tell. The woman is as unpredictable as the sky is infinite.

When Sebastian finally got a closer look on her face and finally opened his mouth to say something, she threw him an angry look poked him on the chest with her delicate fingers. "What gives you the right to come barging in here when I specifically implied that you not go?"

"Well, maybe I just wanted to enjoy the sights here in Marseilles. I woke up this morning with the sudden urge to go sightseeing, and I figured, what the hell."

She rolled her eyes, "Sure, Sebastian. In the graveyard?"

"You know, being in places such as this always gets me in a philosophical mood. In fact, while you go see if your fucked up father's really dead, I might just stand here beside…" he narrowed his blue eyes at the grave near his feet. "Monsieur Claude Dechamps, and just ponder on the meaning of life. You can pretend I'm not here, because I'll probably be too busy with the timeless question of life's certain mysteries that I won't even—"

Suddenly, she was kissing him, her cold, soft lips on his mouth and he immediately stopped talking. It was fast, as far as stolen ones were, but even as she pulled away, he could still feel her on him, in him, and she surprised him yet again by pressing her cheek against his as she hugged him, her voice below a murmur by a decibel, yet her words echoed against his ears.

"I'm glad you're here."

He smiled, stroking her hair gently, "I know."

"My, someone's quite conceited."

"And someone just admitted how grateful they are that their endearing stepbrother had decided to be part of this fascinating ordeal."

She had pulled away, looking at him doubtfully. "Whoever said you were endearing?"

"Oh, I can think of quite a number of women who could attest to that. Cecile Caldwell included."

She laughed at the mention of the fallen twit's name. "Think she's having the time of her life in that nutjob convent?"

"Perhaps she'd decided to continue with that girlish fun you both had in Central Park and might have even discovered the joys of homosexuality given her limited choices… Speaking of your Central Park tête-à-tête with Ms. Caldwell, you should have informed me of that particular part of your plan, I would have been delighted in watching you stick your tongue in Cecile's mouth."

"I would have, but you were too busy with your tongue down Dorothy's precious, innocent mouth."

The joke disappeared as soon as she'd mentioned Annette and the tension between them was once again present. "Listen, Kathryn… About Annette…"

"Kathryn!" Belinda called from the crypt, her hands waving impatiently to get her attention. "They're ready to open it, come back inside."

He let her go, trying to smile reassuringly. "I know you really didn't want me here for some reason so I'll just be waiting right here with Monsieur Dechamps until you're done." He paused, looking down at the ignored slabs of gray as his lips tightened at the lines at the corners of his mouth deepened.

"Sebastian—"

"I'm not leaving you again."

She was silent for a couple of seconds, another cold breeze brushing her light brown hair back while she glanced at him quietly.

"Kathryn!" Belinda yelled, "I have no fucking plans to stay the entire day in this place!"

"Go." He murmured, nodding at his stepsister who was still fixatedly trying to read him.

Finally, she gave him a slight smile and tilted her head up, turning to walk away. He watched her go back, the vision of Kathryn in black set against the somber background of the monastery fascinating him. Sebastian glanced at the grave and sighed, "I guess it's just you and me, Monsieur Claude… Whoever the fuck you are."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kathryn stop and he glanced at her with confusion. Mathieu's golden gaze was focused on her and it was clear that her fiancé was thinking the same thing.

Slowly, she turned around, the usual mischief in her eyes replaced by impatience. "Well?" she addressed Sebastian, "Are you coming?"

---

The glass was fogged up, but they could all see the vague outline of Julian Merteuil's body inside, just as he'd looked like when he was buried. Cold, gaunt expression, brown hair slicked back, dressed in his finest suit… All four of them gaped in disbelief at his remains, still preserved and undoubtedly Julian Merteuil himself. In the flesh and very much dead.

"Fuck!" Belinda screamed, gesturing wildly at the body, her eyes wide open with rage. "What kind of sick shit is going on here? He's here! He'd dead! Who the fuck was that guy in my room? Who the fuck's screwing with me?"

"Maybe you just imagined it…" Mathieu tried to calm her down, but she slapped his hand off and he recoiled at her anger. "Belinda, I think we need to go back to the institute…"

"You think I'm going insane?"

"Honestly, yes." Sebastian answered and Kathryn just elbowed him and fixed him a glare.

"Be quiet." She hissed, her green eyes just as bewildered as they all were. "So he's really dead… Then somebody's just pulling a sick joke on all of us, and I don't know if she really is going crazy or if there was someone, but at least it wasn't him. At least Papa's really dead, because I would rather have an insane impostor stalk us than have my crazed father breathe down on our necks at each inopportune time."

"THIS ISN'T A FUCKING JOKE!" Her hands shaking in pure rage, Belinda grabbed a large hammer and started bashing against the glass coffin, "I killed him once, and I'm going to kill him again, that sick asshole!"

The two men ran up to her to try to restrain her, but she swung at them, baring her teeth. "Don't." she warned, glaring at them with full force before finally breaking the glass. Her chest heaving, her mouth opening as she breathed heavily, now coming face to face with her father.

"Fuck you." She spat at him, bringing down the tool to his face with everything she had.

Kathryn buried her face in Sebastian's chest and he covered his arms around her protectively, as if to shield her from the sickening sound of her father's skull being shattered.

There was none. No sound of bones breaking, just a dull thud as the hammer hit the bottom of the coffin.

Silence.

Belinda screamed and Mathieu gently got the hammer from her, but even his impassive face was shaken up at the sight.

Julian Merteuil's corpse was not a corpse. There were no bones, no blood, no smell of formaldehyde as the hammer split the body open.

"Sebastian? What happened?" Kathryn whispered, locked tight in his hold, but even Sebastian couldn't speak.

Julian Merteuil's corpse was not made of skin and bones and blood. It was wax. Perfectly created, perfectly sculpted by the finest artists to create the illusion of death.

"Papa's little Belinda… All grown up."

---

Kathryn and Belinda were silent as they all sat inside the limo, their vacant eyes staring blankly out the tinted window. Mathieu was speaking on his cell phone in French, apparently calling some of his more influential friends to find some answers about Julian, though it was clear that he wasn't having any luck. His aristocratic features were hardened into a stony glare, his usually calm voice rough and threatening.

"Hey," Sebastian whispered, trying to catch Kathryn's attention.

"Not now, Sebastian." She replied distractedly, for the first time there was no trace of naught in her dark emerald eyes.

His cell phone rang, causing him to jump slightly. Finally, a distraction. He was only too happy to take the call.

"Valmont."

"The pictures of Mathieu's activities came back, but these were taken weeks ago. That fucking prick Lenny seemed to vanish after sending it."

Sebastian glanced at Mathieu, who was watching him with that same stony glare. "And?"

"He was at the Methadone Clinic, visiting Court Reynolds."

"Something tells me it wasn't a social call."

"Court's hand was stabbed clean through, and although none of the employees could ever admit it, it was clear that it was Mathieu's doing. You should see the photos, Valmont. It's fucking creepy, it's like he had no emotion whatsoever when Court was impaled with the knife."

Sebastian sighed, "She sure knows how to pick them."

"She? By her you mean Kathryn? Are you with her right now?"

"Yes."

Blaine laughed, "I knew you couldn't stay away. About time you dumped the old ball and chain, by the way. So can I talk to her?"

"Fuck no. Who knows what you're going to say."

"What? You think I'm going to say that you love her and that you've broken all ties with Annette and that she should dump that mysterious and creepy but still amazingly hot French guy for you?"

"I wouldn't put it past you. And for the record, I don't…." Christ. There was the faintest red flush on his normally pale cheeks that made Kathryn smile once she'd noticed. "You know. Ah, what the fuck am I explaining this to you for? Bye, Tuttle. Call me when you get more."

"Getting phone calls from Blaine that make the lethargic Sebastian Valmont blush? That sounds suspicious… Perhaps Court might just be your new best friend. Should I give him a call to arrange a date?"

Even though he loathed the idea of showing the merest trace of embarrassment in front of her and she was laughing at his expense, at this point, given the grim and peculiar circumstances, he would get what he could. "Bitch."

"Fag." She responded, already returning to her old self and glad that Sebastian wasn't treating her like some victim.

"You know," he leaned in to whisper in her ear, glad that Mathieu was still preoccupied with making angry threats through the phone. "If we were alone in here right now, you'd be sitting on an entirely different kind of seat… If you would even be sitting down at all."

"Sounds promising."

"It is."

They heard the phone snap shut loudly, "Kathryn, I just spoke to the real estate agent about the Bordeaux chateau, you do remember it, don't you?" Mathieu's tone was conversational but his gaze wasn't. They both knew that it wasn't the real estate developer he had just spoken to.

"What's that?" her stepbrother asked, unknowing of how close he was to finding out about Kathryn's secret.

"Funny story, you see, Kathryn said that—"

"That I wanted it. So he's talking to the developers about the acquisition."

"Actually, Kathryn and I made a deal. I told her I would buy the chateau for her if—"

"Mathieu." She answered sharply, for the first time since he'd arrived in New York, she shot him a sharp look.

"Kathryn." For once he didn't address her with the warmth he usually did. There was anger in his golden eyes, Remember what you came to do, Kathryn.

Her dark brown eyebrows were knitted together in silent fury, how dare he?

"Drop me off at the hotel."

Sebastian looked at the two in interest, seeing as how it was also the first time he'd ever seen them argue.

Mathieu relented, and understandably so. Right now, for some reason, Kathryn looked like she was ready to claw his light brown eyes out. "I apologize."

"I changed my mind about the hotel. Stop the fucking limo now."

"Kathryn, you're overreacting." Mathieu looked at Belinda for help, but the gray eyed beauty was too caught up in her own thoughts to bother.

Sebastian couldn't help but laugh, even though he had no idea as to what sparked this sudden burst of fury in Kathryn.

If he only knew.

It was actually quite refreshing to watch some poor fool be the object of her wrath for a moment, and Mathieu, Sebastian knew, with all his damn charm, wouldn't be able to weasel his way out of this one. Once Kathryn was angry, it was difficult to persuade her to be otherwise. He wanted to tell the poor loser that he'd have a better chance at watching pigs fly that to calm Kathryn down. He knew very well of that angry look in her green eyes, having had it directed to him so many times, and smirked at the way De Comte was trying to appease his fiancé.

Kathryn furiously wrapped her fingers around the engagement ring, obviously threatening to throw it in his face. "Let me out."

Mathieu looked like he wanted to punch Sebastian, but he tapped on the partition and motioned for the driver to pull over. As soon as it had gone to a full stop, she turned to Sebastian.

"Get out."

"What? You're kicking me out for what this moron said?"

She rolled her eyes, "I'm not kicking you out, you idiot. You're coming with me."

"He's what! Don't blame me for your sudden act of cowardice!" Mathieu frowned at her.

No matter what you do, never, ever try to goad Kathryn Merteuil.

"Va t'empaler encule." Go fuck yourself. She snarled at him, getting out.

"God dammit!" Mathieu yelled, furiously punching the now unoccupied leather seats. "Why the fuck did she have to be so fucking hardheaded?"

Belinda finally tore her gaze away from the window, "You're losing her and you don't even know it."

"Shut up." He growled, tugging his tie to loosen it in frustration.

---

Her Manolos clicked against the ground as she furiously walked away, pretty features still furious and muttering cusses in French that a lady should never be allowed to say.

Of course, not that she really conformed to the socialite values.

Sebastian had to run a little catch up to her, and when he did, she still had that small frown on her face and it was clear that her thoughts were once again elsewhere.

She caught him staring at her, "What?" she asked in annoyance.

He smirked, "It's just refreshing to see that you and Mathieu aren't Mr. and Mrs. Cleaver from hell. The affection was starting irritate me; it's so unlike you to be so amiable when it comes to a man. Usually you bite their head off. So you do fight, after all. And the guy's a fucking pussy. I would've kicked you out on your bulimic ass while the limo was running."

"Well, you're not my fiancé, are you?"

"No." he said quietly, "I'm not."

She started to reply but changed her mind and the two walked in silence for a couple of minutes.

Marseilles was a beautiful place; there was no doubt about it. But over the years, so much had changed. While it once looked large and intimidating to Kathryn, she found herself strangely at home in the cold streets. The truth was, she didn't know where she was going, and even though she knew Mathieu must livid by now, she just continued walking. Sebastian, thankfully, had gotten the idea and had stopped with his snide remarks as well, and just strolled beside her in silence. She didn't know what it was, whether her body was still oriented to find the damned house after all these years or if it was their father, the horrible sick man, who called out to her, in her blood, to come home. Nevertheless, she finally stopped walking and stood frozen in place at where she had brought herself.

The Merteuil mansion was in front of her, flawless in its architectural beauty, the tall, heavy black gates engraved the letter M, marking the home of billionaire Julian Merteuil for the entire world to see. Her blood ran cold, was he there?

"This is where you lived, isn't it?" Sebastian asked quietly, noticing her reaction.

She nodded, then upon feeling the first few drops of heavy rain, she cursed loudly, pressing the button on the intercom.

"We can just get a taxi and go back to the hotel—"

"No," she sighed, "We can't. Taxis don't pass here; this is the only place for miles."

---

Madame Meraux had been in the Merteuil household for more than a decade and had been on her way to clean the unused dining room when she heard Mimi give a cry of surprise and she rolled her eyes. Americains… she said to herself.

"There's someone demanding to be let in, Madame!"

The aging housekeeper looked suspicious, seeing as how nobody ever ventured near the estate for years. "Who?" she replied with a thick accent.

"She claims to be Kathryn Merteuil…"

"Mon dieu!" Madame Meraux smacked the top of the girl's head lightly, rushing to open the gates. A few minutes later, the double doors of the Merteuil mansion opened and a striking woman of porcelain complexion and long brown hair walked in, accompanied by a handsome blond young man with startlingly light blue eyes.

"Bonjour, Madame Meraux." The woman smiled at her, "Has my father been here recently?"

The elderly woman had known Kathryn since she was a child, and had always known that, like Belinda (God bless that poor girl for having to move away after her father's death), she would grow up to be beautiful, but the years have exceeded her expectations. The last time she saw the youngest Merteuil, she had been a delightful little child, dark green eyes looking so sharp and perceiving, long brown hair the delight of everybody at Tiffany's dinner parties. Now, though, Kathryn Merteuil emanated an aura of beauty and power, as had been given by her birthright, the family tradition. Vanity, wealth, and power. She had been the only one who was truly close to the brunette among all her au pairs, and she couldn't help but feel proud at the way Kathryn carried herself.

"Your father? He's been dead for more than a decade, Kathryn. Nobody's been here." The kindly gray haired housekeeper, also the only one Kathryn had ever really liked among the other servants, glanced coyly at Sebastian, who was standing with his head tilted to the side. "Who is this?" she teased, and Kathryn's mouth turned up with a smile. "Your boyfriend?"

If it had been Mai Lie or any other servant who'd asked her that, she would have told them to go fuck themselves and would have them fired, but Madame Meraux was oddly above those other faces. She had been the one who tried to get Monsieur Merteuil to stop going into the girls' rooms, and would often take the girls out when both their parents were away. Kathryn had been fond of her then, much to Sebastian's surprise. His stepsister wasn't actually giving a death glare to this woman.

"No, this is my stepbrother Sebastian Valmont."

Yet, after dinner, Madame Meraux found the two seated in front of the fireplace, their two beautiful heads bowed as they spoke in soft voices. Sebastian's blue eyes were on Kathryn's green irises, the glow of the fire making them look more vulnerable than they'd ever been. She had always known Kathryn to be the indifferent child among the two heiresses, preferring to keep people at bay. Whoever this man was, this Sebastian Valmont, Madame Meraux was glad he was with her.

---

Meanwhile, as Mathieu paced the room and Belinda watched him, back in New York, Trevor was not happy.

"I left him." Annette said, smiling as she hugged him.

"Wha-what?"

"I left Sebastian. You're right, now we can start all over."

But I don't want you! I want Belinda! He wanted to scream, but there was only the sound of silence from where Belinda's voice in his desires would have spoken. There was loneliness in his ex's eyes, and even though he had been corrupted by his immense desire for the unattainable woman, the last remaining vestige of his kindness won out. He smiled and took her in his arms, promising himself that he would tell her as soon as he spoke to Belinda about it.

Little did Trevor know that he was now involved in this dangerous game, and that by doing what he planned to do, he would cause untold pain to people he'd never even met.

---

He stared at her, taking in the way her brown hair shone under the yellow orange glow of the fire. Her eyes gleamed not from sarcasm of cruelty as it had a million times in different ways, but from a childlike fascination for the past memory of watching Belinda's favorite pink sheets that unfolded before her. The loss of innocence, the gain of hatred… She dwelled in this, the darkness, the mystery, the beauty and the deep, profound sadness that embodied everything that was Kathryn Merteuil. He had memorized her features, the gentle delicate slope of her neck, the sharpness of her large, emerald eyes… How could he have left this? How could he have left her?

Overcome by this sudden realization, he took her small hand in his, their fingers joining together as if they were made to be joined. The connection of two halves, once again filled after a long, aching absence from the other. Kathryn didn't seem to be surprised but her attention was still focused on the steadily flickering flames, yet she didn't pull away either. Her hand, although soft, was cold. The ice princess never pulled away, but she didn't acknowledge him either. She was too fascinated, too into the concept of death, love, betrayal and the revelation of bitter secrets that would soon tear the characters apart to see that her stepbrother was with her, just as he had always been and just as he would always be from now on. Forgiveness or retribution? To punish or to let it go? Forgiveness meant mercy, and mercy meant the admission of weakness. Was Kathryn weak?

"Kathryn." He said softly, not wanting to interrupt her thoughts. He caressed her knuckles with his thumb gently, as a lover would do when he adores a woman. And he did. How he adored Kathryn, the woman who would never leave the pedestal he'd placed her on. She didn't reply, but her gaze flickered over him for a millisecond.

"I love you."

Sebastian felt her tense up, the fascinated look leaving her as she seemed to pale at his words. Kathryn lost all interest in the reminiscing of her memories and now all her attention was on him, or more specifically, his eyes. She was reading him, trying as hard as she could to delve deeper into those charming, mesmerizing blue irises that they both knew was very well capable of telling lies so convincing it would fool anyone. In the obscurity of the vicinity, he could have sworn he saw one of her genuine smiles, but he could never be sure. The last thing he remembered were her eyes closing as she kissed him, and what a long, sweet kiss that was. The gentleness of the softest lips he'd ever touched, the moisture between their mouths…

The next, the few flashes of memory he'd had were how his hands slightly shook, how there was an absence of sarcasm and goading insults, there were no challenges ensued about which one could last longer and which one was better. As they undressed each other slowly, deliberately, their gaze unbreakable, speaking thousands upon thousands of love and hate, passion and lust, she beckoned to him. A single milky white arm outstretched, smooth, delicate fingers playing an invisible harp that lulled him back to her. By her side, with her, and into her soul once more. She was a vision of beauty underneath the worshipping glow of the moonlight coming from the glass windows which could only watch in envy as Kathryn motioned to him. Sebastian felt the forgiveness emanate from her fingertips, absolving the betrayal he'd foolishly committed. He was her confidante again, her lover, the only family she'd ever had and would ever want.

"Are you coming back to me, Sebastian?"

The sleepy words of a temporarily melted ice princess, the Percoset filled question, the hidden question beneath both their tainted hearts of twisted passion and inexplicable love. He reached out to her, their hands joining and their souls reuniting. Crimson love. Twisted affections. There was nobody else.

The room was silent, the tension nonexistent and their movements measured; the very image of what was happening in the Merteuil mansion became a depiction of love and tragedy, newfound realizations and a bittersweet physical manifestation of that deplorable word. There was no coyness, no teasing nor cruelty that existed between them. A temporary reprieve once more and they were free. For that particular night, the thought of society's disapproval didn't inhibit them as it would have done before. There were no wagers made, no deals, no revenge planned. No ruthless plotting, no secret dreams of pain and suffering. He touched her, revered in her endless eyes of multiple meanings he'd miraculously understood. They spoke silently, through their raw convergence, the secret language of their complex and intricately woven essence flowing out of every opening in their beautifully crafted bodies.

Words were of no importance as he laid her down gently on the bed, the sheets parted and her long hair tenderly hitting the thick pillow. Again, she made no protest, her red lips shiny and tempting; the blood from inside her was alive again. She was not numb, he could feel her feel. He grabbed the melting ice cubes from the forgotten bucket that housed the champagne she loved, something cold for the unfeeling, amazing woman he loved more than anything in the world. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, an auburn eyebrow rising at the look in his twinkling blue eyes. He trailed the frozen liquid down her bare stomach, the crystal colored water trailing as she shivered slightly, her back arching, teeth clamped down the bottom lip he'd lovingly kissed. Soft sighs escaped her throat and as the last of the ice cubes melted away from the warmth of her body, she grabbed his hand, still cold from the ice and kissed his palm while Sebastian could only watch in wonder. Her eyes implored him, no whispers coming from her mouth but he understood it better that way. Finally, he eased himself on top of her, the blond hairs on his legs brushing against her smooth leg and making her chuckle, breaking the impassive expression on her gorgeous face. Sebastian took her in; he just drank the sight of the only woman he'd ever really wanted in front of him, wide green eyes devoid of mystery and now full of trust, pleading for him to join her, to drown in this forbidden relationship along with her, the feisty brunette temptress he could never say no to. Finally, when he couldn't take it anymore, he did just as she implored. He joined her, partook the enchanting enigma that was Kathryn. She raised her head and gasped when they were finally joined, her eyes closing shut from the pain only to be opened seconds later from raw pleasure. Wordlessly, she brought her lips to his shoulder and kissed the scar from where she bit him before, without any trace of lust and instead they both knew it was from affection. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled her lithe body to his, the friction of their skins causing them to go deeper and deeper into themselves.

"I love you, Sebastian. Whatever happens." she murmured, her voice uncharacteristically soft and sad as she finally closed her eyes, the weariness overcoming her body.

Her words carried a bittersweet premonition that should have made him nervous, but Sebastian could only smile, as he watched her breathe evenly, her beautiful brown hair daintily messed up, yet still perfectly framing her face. Under this light, she had been unmasked, no trace of malignance or cruelty left in her expression. His entire body felt warm and sore, yet he didn't want to go to sleep. You always remember your first, that's what they say. Even though he and Kathryn had slept together before, it was as if it was only now that things started falling into place. For the first time, he felt like everything he'd felt for the first time in the past paled in comparison to what he was feeling right now. She loved him whatever happens? What did that mean?

He should have asked her right then and there, but he didn't want to. It didn't matter.

She had never looked more beautiful than she did at the time.

"Kathryn." He spoke softly, playing her small fingers to get her to wake up.

"Hmm." She replied sleepily, two green eyes peering up at him and a small smile playing across her lips.

"Marry me."

She flinched and jerked her hand away, now wide awake. "What?"

The deal. The Chateau de Bordeaux. Mathieu. Two and a half months. No!

Even he seemed surprised at what he had just said, but despite this, he had never been surer or more determined. The truth was, there was nobody else that could have made more sense in his life than her, and even though she was complicated, bitchy, and stubborn as hell, nobody ever compared to Kathryn. "Marry me. I don't mean now, or a week from now, or even a year from now. I don't care when, just say you will and if by years from now, we're still this insane, then we'll get married." He repeated. "Like you could resist me." He commented, trying to get her to smile but her reaction hadn't changed. There was fear behind her shocked eyes, but fear of what? He didn't know… And if he could read her mind right now, she was wishing he would never know.

"We're legally related."

He smiled, his blue eyes crinkling adorably at her stumped and hesitant reaction. "Minor details, of course."

"I'm engaged."

"That's a problem why?" There was an ominous dread growing within him, but he didn't know the reason behind it, there was something she wasn't telling him, he could sense it. Her hesitation spoke volumes, the way she almost looked pained at his sudden proposal when in fact she should have been happy should have been an indication of something. Nevertheless, he continued. "Listen, I'm as fucking shocked as you are. I didn't expect to get engaged to my stepsister, but here I am. And the peculiar part is, it all makes sense to be here. I hate what I've done to you, I hate that I said all those things to you, about how I never loved you when I always did. You should know that. Annette was a mistake, and if you had never left, I would have gone back to you sooner. I did. I went to Paris a year after you left, but I saw you with him. Kathryn, you're a bitch, and you've probably destroyed countless lives for your amusement, and there would probably be times that your narcissism and the need to feel nothing would make me regret ever saying this, but despite that, I don't give a damn. Nobody makes me feel the way you do. Call me pussywhipped, if you want, but I love you. If that makes me pussywhipped, then so be it. I've withstood your immature name calling plenty of times, what are a few more years?"

Kathryn swallowed thickly, tempted to take the newly refilled crucifix and just finish the entire thing. "I can't." she whispered, the image of her once dream chateau now turning into a demon, taunting her.

His face fell, "I see." He replied calmly, willing himself to feel the coldness Kathryn was so good at feeling. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go do something to compensate for this humiliation. Maybe I want to feel how numb you can get when you take this shit." He reached and snatched her coke stash, much to her shock.

"Sebastian, don't." she tried to stop him but he'd already taken a large hit, too large. Sebastian's body wasn't used to such a large amount of the drug. His hurt face changed as it started to take over his thoughts. A slow smile spread across his good looking features and he glanced serenely at her, offering her some.

"Now I'm as numbed by everything else as you." He commented slowly, his golden head returning back to the pillow. Kathryn took the crucifix from him and returned it to the table, immediately. She held his face and peered into his blue eyes in worry, there was no telling about what effect it would have on him.

"I'm not numb." She answered inaudibly, but Sebastian merely grinned and pulled her to him, his breath warm against her cheek.

"God, you're beautiful." He laughed at his own comment, feeling lightheaded while she rested her head on his chest. "But then again, you probably know that already. What you don't know is that even though you're twisted as hell, even though you've had a fucked up childhood and you can show an incredible amount of cruelty, I'll never see you differently."

Kathryn was quiet for a while, but then she asked the question they both asked themselves ever since The Bet happened. "Why did you do it? Why did you leave me for her?"

"Because I loved her once, Annette was all the things you weren't. But then I realized that that same fact was what led me to stop feeling that way for her. She wasn't you, Kathryn. That's what went wrong after a while."

He felt something warm trickle sideways on his chest and he quickly pulled her head up to see that her large green eyes were watery. Kathryn was crying? It didn't make sense… None of it ever made sense anymore…

"Hey…" he mumbled, trying to smile. "I thought that was supposed to make you happy. You hate her, remember? Or are you worried about your dad? Don't worry; I'll kick his perverted ass for you when I get around to it."

She looked at him for the longest time, as if this was the last time they'd ever be that calm to each other, as if this would be the last time they would both be stripped raw of their inhibitions, and as if this would be the last time they would ever feel remotely human and alive. "Yes." She replied, the saddest smile reaching her green eyes.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I'll marry you. Not now, but someday. When we're still this insane and you're still as good looking as you are now."

Sebastian laughed at her statement, "But I don't have a ring to give you."

Why was she so sad? Why did her mouth droop down and her eyes display the droplets of water that Kathryn Merteuil would rather die than let show?

"I don't care." She kissed him, her mouth sweet, kiss enthralling and hands twisting his hair into small curls. When she pulled away, her forehead touched his and she opened her eyes, staring at him with such intensity and sorrow. "I love you, Sebastian. God help us both."

This should have been the first warning sign that should've gone ringing in his ears. Kathryn never prayed, she never believed in any sort of religion. Yet at that point, she was willing to believe, she was willing to lower her pride to pray to someone she'd never been raised to have faith in. The final knife had been secured into place, and it was only a matter of time before it was pulled out of Sebastian just to see how much he would bleed.

A/N: I love this chapter. That's all I can say. Oh, and I love you guys too, for putting up with this insanely long and babbling tale. Oh, God, I don't even want to write about when Sebastian finds out the truth… Wahhh… Can somebody write that chapter for me? Please? I'll share the credit.

Unfeeling: Thank you, I'm glad you approve. I'll try to update as much as possible.

Katie: Hats off to you. I loved your email. Your review's one of those I truly look forward to reading every time I update. I'm like, 'Hey, where's Katie's?' Hahaha awww. I think I update also because I've become a slave to the masses and I've become a review whore. But that's another story. About my loyal fans. Really? I have them? Lol Like what I said in the email, I hope that your review in this chapter also includes the phrase 'this is my favorite chapter' because I'm insanely in love with this installment.

Hattie: You're the 100th review. Yey. Thanks. I finally reached a three digit number. Words cannot describe how awesome it feels. I'll try to keep it up, I don't want to disappoint you. Haha

WashedOut: Thanks, dude. Tangina buti tapos na exams ko leche and hiraaaaap. Wag ka ng maggraduate ng highschool. Stay there! Lol. I can cuss and cuss and few people can understand. Hahaha

(However for those of you who are intrigued as to what Tangina means, here's a little lesson. It's the shortened version of the phrase 'Puta ang ina mo', which basically means, 'Your mother's a whore', but now it's just an expression in my language, same as fuck or shit, therefore I wasn't really insulting WashedOut. Lol, I think the word puta's the Spanish term for whore as well, but I'm not that sure… A foreign language lesson brought to you by yx. Hahaha)

Sam: Everything has a reason in this story. You'll see. Aww cut Mathieu some slack, we all know it's still K/S in the end……Right? Hmmm… Hahaha

Keri: The comment about your reviews being like an early Christmas present still stands. Yes, I made Sebastian say that awful thing because I love how they make up after having a fight. I think it's also because he got pissed off at her lack of emotion that he tried to get a rise out of her. Your theory on Monsieur Merteuil, however, cannot be commented on. I apologize. ;-)

Annie: Oh, bite your tongue! I'm still a K/S shipper! Lol