AN: I hope you enjoyed the flashback. This chapter returns us to the main storyline, picking up where chapter 4 left off.
A quick recap: Chanel had a violent encounter with members of a drug cartel who are working for the Power Broker. She's conflicted, hating herself for her violent nature but Zemo tells her it's her best quality. She goes to bed with Sam mad at her and Bucky confused as to why she pushed him away.
Chapter 6: He Shows Me He Knows Me, Every Inch of My Tar Black Soul
A silky voice slithered into Chanel's consciousness, dragging her out of a nightmare. She slowly opened her eyes, "Stephan?"
"Yes, Schatz, it's me; I hope I didn't frighten you. You were having a bad dream."
Chanel shot up, and Stephan turned on the lamp on the bedside table. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as he took her in.
She was just as sinfully angelic as he had remembered. He had really tried to stay away, knowing he would only hurt himself by seeing her again. But he had to make sure she was okay; the thought of her being hurt had sent him into a panic. His anger returned as he remembered why he was there.
Chanel's eyes widened in shock at the presence of his handsome, chiseled face in front of hers. He was dressed as always in a black button-down designer shirt, black chino pants, and expensive leather loafers. The alluring subtle scent of the Gucci Guilty cologne he wore invited her to indulge in her deepest desires. She reached out to touch him, afraid he was a whisper of a dream she would forget by dawn.
"You're not dreaming." Stephan chuckled as her hand continued to explore his face as if she was familiarizing herself with a treasure, she thought was long lost.
Despite his grin, Chanel readily picked up on the anxiety that soured his features.
"What are you doing here?" Chanel wanted to run her fingers through his hair but knew better than to mess it up. She settled for twisting her fingers through his instead.
"Did you think I wouldn't immediately return after receiving that phone call this evening? By the way, I don't appreciate you not calling me back."
Chanel rolled her eyes, "you really didn't need to come home. You worry too much. I told you I would handle it."
"That you did. But you can't blame me; how could I sit in Madrid knowing that you and Manfred were being threatened?"
He gently caressed her face, and Chanel relented, knowing she would have felt the same way if the roles were reversed.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."
Stephan waved off her apology, "I would have come anyway; Manfred was quite insistent. Plus, you shouldn't have had to clean up this mess."
"I told you, it's just as much my mess as it is yours."
"Well, I'm glad you feel that way because I need your help."
"Now? It's past midnight."
"Yes. You were effective in dealing with Nicolo tonight, but we cannot allow his disloyalty and disrespect to go unpunished."
"You think I didn't punish him?" Chanel challenged a hint of insecurity in her voice.
"I know you did." Stephan smiled at her proudly and brushed his hand over her hair. He liked when she wore it messy. It reminded him of the lioness caged inside, trying to claw its way out.
"But the rest of them need to know that we are serious. I won't have this happen again. The Power Broker needs to mind his place."
Chanel nodded; Zemo had been right. This was serious. Her loyalty to Stephan and Manfred, and her guilt at being part of the problem, was enough to override the voice in her head telling her to stop him.
She jumped out of bed and flicked the light on. "One of our guests may be interested in helping us. But we can't wake the other two."
Moving quickly, she discarded her sleep shorts and pulled a pair of black jeans over her bodysuit before stuffing her feet into her combat boots.
Stephan handed her a leather jacket from the wardrobe with a knowing grin. "Still keeping secrets from your friends?"
Chanel shrugged into the jacket. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have any friends."
Stephan chuckled as he grabbed hold of her hand, stopping her from heading to the door. "Hold on. Give me a moment to just look at you." He placed both of his big hands on her face, "I missed you."
Chanel could feel the excitement that only Stephan could elicit blooming. Zemo's words rang in her head, never shy away from that part of yourself. Stephan, more than anyone, appreciated and accepted that part of her without condition. She knew it wouldn't last, but she felt whole again by his side. She was going to allow herself that much. She needed it.
"I missed you too," she whispered.
They stared at each other for a beat, a silent exchange of apologies and forgiveness passing between them, before he removed his hands and opened the door.
Chanel and Zemo were taken aback by the plethora of weapons Stephan had laid out in his study.
"Are we going to take out the entire town?" Chanel asked as she led Zemo into the room.
"Only if necessary," Stephan replied without looking up.
"Steph, this is Baron Helmut Zemo."
Stephan looked up at Chanel in surprise, "The same Helmut Zemo that is supposed to be in prison right now?"
"The very same. It's a pleasure to meet you." Zemo shook Stephan's hand as he appraised him, noticing just a slight nervousness in his eyes.
Zemo's curiosity had gotten the best of him when Chanel had appeared in his room, quite agitated. This certainly hadn't been what he was expecting; he was starting to learn that anticipating her next move would not be an easy task.
Stephan raised his eyebrows, "The pleasure is mine. Chanel, you never cease to impress me."
Chanel grinned slightly at the praise before turning back to the weapons laid out in front of her.
Her eyes scanned the display, looking for something in particular, her lips pulling down in a frown when she didn't find it.
"Don't worry, I haven't forgotten," Stephan grinned at her knowingly. He pulled a box out of his safe and opened it for her.
Her lips curled into a small smile as she ran her hands over the cool metal of her old daggers and guns. She picked up her favorite, a 7-inch Fairbairn-Sykes dagger, and lightly ran her fingertip over the smooth blade.
Stephan watched Chanel with rapt attention as if she was performing just for him. His eyes followed her movements curiously as she put the dagger back, and her hand hovered over the other weapons. Finally, when she settled on a 9mm pistol, he nodded in approval.
Zemo observed silently from his position near the table; Chanel proved to be more interesting than he had anticipated. He watched as Stephan put the box back in the safe and returned with ammo and a gun holster. When Stepan grabbed her wrist and slowly inserted the magazine into the pistol without breaking eye contact with her, Zemo almost looked away, feeling like he was intruding.
Chanel's breath hitched as the click of the magazine punctuated the tension radiating between her and Stephan. She was almost embarrassed at how quickly she was falling back into rank for him. However, the feeling vacated her body when he lightly grabbed her hips and turned her around, her back flush against his chest and her gaze catching Zemo's across the room.
Neither of them broke eye contact as Stephan knelt down, his hands never leaving her body, to fasten the holster to her thigh.
Chanel smirked when Zemo broke first, his eyes leaving hers to rake down her body. "See anything you like?"
Zemo's eyes snapped back up to hers, and she nodded in the direction of the weapons table.
"Zemo, please, what's mine is yours," Stephan added, his hands still resting on Chanel's hips.
Chanel restrained her giggle at the unintended meaning of Stephan's words.
Zemo cleared his throat, as if the action would somehow dislodge the stakes she was slowly sinking into him, and refocused on the artillery.
As Chanel watched him, she found that she kept having to remind herself that he was a terrorist. It was hard to remember when he looked so enticing in his element, his hypnotic fingers dancing delicately over the weapons, a flippant smile at the corners of his lips. Her hands were itching to brush the one strand of cognac brown hair over his eye back into place.
Zemo felt her eyes on him and peeked up at her; her eyes followed his hands closely. Now it was his turn to smirk. Two could play at this game.
Chanel finally looked up and saw him staring at her, his head cocked to the side with a cocky grin on his face.
Shit, he's doing that on purpose.
She narrowed her eyes and spun away from his smug face to search for the ammo he needed.
After composing herself, Chanel handed him the magazines."I trust that this will stay between us?"
"Of course, my dear. My lips are sealed."
"Excellent." She turned back to Stephan, "Steph, let's do this."
Stephan grabbed her hand and kissed her forehead, his excitement increasing in sync with his anger.
He led them outside, where Manfred was already waiting in a black SUV. The previous thunderstorm had left behind an eerily calm feeling in the chilly night air. One last crack of thunder sounded as Chanel got into the car, making her shiver involuntarily.
"This is all very clandestine. You did not lie when you said you were a guaranteed good time," Zemo said as he slid into the back seat next to Chanel.
Stephan, growing more possessive as his excitement increased, climbed into the car on the other side of Chanel. He kept his arm around her, pinning her to his side.
Zemo felt that they would be engaging in much more explicit forms of PDA if he hadn't been there.
Chanel had a fleeting feeling of doubt as they pulled away from the house and left Sam and Bucky behind.
I have to do this. For Steph and Manfred, it's my fault, and I can't leave them in danger.
The feeling of Stephan's lips grazing her ear as he whispered sweet nothings to her in German further cemented her decision.
Once this is handled, I can repent.
"Stephan, I do have to ask. What was it that you took from your old friend Dante after the failed deal with the Power Broker?" Zemo asked.
Stephan eyed him suspiciously and shot an annoyed look at Chanel, "I never found out what it was. It was just a small briefcase with a few vials in it. Some kind of vaccine, I think."
Zemo tried to hide his increased interest, simply nodding.
"I was glad that we hadn't gone through with the deal. It seemed overpriced."
"What did you end up doing with the vials?" Zemo asked flatly as he looked disinterestedly out his window
Stephan tensed, "I destroyed them as payback for cutting us out of the deal."
Zemo nodded his head, and the conversation died.
A slight tension filled the car as Manfred approached Nicolo's warehouse.
He parked and cut the engine.
"They all pay, but leave Nicolo for me." Stephan led the way to the warehouse, his AR-style rifle held out in front of him.
Chanel and Zemo unholstered their weapons and turned the safety off as they got closer to the door. The silence of the night heightened their adrenaline; it buzzed around them like a force field.
Stephan held up his hand to stop them when he reached the door. He peeked through an open window and saw several men working and talking inside.
"It looks like they're all here. They didn't expect me to come back home."
"Let's do this." Chanel pushed Stephan forward.
"Patience. Listen." Stephan snapped.
The harshness of his voice surprised Zemo, and he looked to Chanel, waiting for her to rebuff him. But, instead, Chanel did what she was told and strained to hear the conversation happening in the warehouse.
Nicolo's voice rose above the others, "Listen! The Power Broker won't give us another chance to give that bitch what she deserves. Others have already failed before us. We go tonight, all of us this time. You focus on taking out the other threats, including the old man, and leave the princess for me. No survivors."
Chanel didn't have time to process what she was hearing before Stephan kicked the door down and burst into the warehouse, spraying bullets wildly.
Chanel stood aghast for a moment; she had expected a stealthier plan of action. But, as Nicolo's words fully sunk in and her anger grew, she quickly followed Stephan into the room. She used his cover fire to make her way behind a flipped-over table. Zemo hesitated as he watched Chanel disappear into the chaos of blood and bullets. He caught sight of another entrance and opted for the less direct approach; he had more important things to do other than fight with drug dealers.
Chanel focused her fire on the men getting too close to Stephan, hitting them in the arm or leg to disable them. Less than a minute had passed, and all the targets in the first room were down, but Nicolo had fled as soon as the bullets started flying. Chanel followed Stephan through the next door as they hunted him down.
Chanel moved elegantly, dodging bullets and fists and wounding anyone that got in her way.
As a burly man lunged at her with a large knife, she shot him in the knee and quickly turned her back to shoot another approaching man in the arm. She jumped at the loud ring of a gunshot right behind her and then saw a bullet hit the target she had just maimed through the eyes.
"You're pulling your punches. This one almost stabbed you from behind." Stephan chided her as he continued forward through the warehouse.
Chanel huffed but bit her tongue, now wasn't the time to start a fight. As she continued slinking through the dark hallways, she ruminated on the complaints she didn't voice aloud.
Something is off about him. He's being needlessly reckless; what the hell was his plan anyway? Busting the door down was beyond stupid.
And what was with the possessiveness in the car?
He's never been that insecure.
Maybe this all just got to him. Understandable.
Stephan was growing frustrated at searching for his primary target, and Chanel suggested they split up. "Just let me know if you find him, don't do anything alone."
"Be careful," Stephan whispered before he left her.
Chanel stalked silently through another dim room. The wind was knocked out of her when she was attacked from the shadows and thrown against the wall. Her gun clanked loudly as it hit the ground and slid away from her. In the glint of the moonlight, she barely saw the blade of a large knife that came for her. Two shots rang out and the assailant, and knife, dropped to the floor.
Zemo came into view. He had avoided joining in on the violence until now. Unnecessary bloodshed was not his style.
"Thanks." Chanel caught her breath as Zemo helped her off the floor.
"Where have you been? I was afraid you ran off," Chanel whispered as they prowled through the warehouse together.
"And leave you in danger? I wouldn't dream of—" Before he could finish his sentence, Chanel had shoved him out of the path of an oncoming bullet as she whirled around and fired in the assailant's direction. The bullets hit his knee and shoulder, and a loud thud resounded as he hit the floor.
"You were saying?" Chanel kicked the gun out of reach and continued forward as Zemo rejoined her side.
"I don't have a hand in this fight, but I had a suspicion. So I searched the building, but I came up empty."
"Hmm." Chanel had stopped listening; she was getting frustrated at how long this was taking. The longer they remained inside the building, the more time they gave Nicolo's back up to show up. "I'm beginning to think he's not here."
A scream followed by a loud crash sounded from the next room, and Chanel and Zemo hurried towards it.
Chanel burst into the room first, her eyes sweeping the room for threats. Stephan had found Nicolo and Luka. His gun had been discarded on the floor. Luka was already slumped over in the corner, bleeding from his chest.
Nicolo was getting up off the floor. Chanel noticed the crumbling wall where his body had clearly made contact. She tried to make sense of what she was seeing.
Did Steph throw him against the wall?
That's not possible.
Chanel hurried to Stephan's side, ignoring the confusion as her anger took the driver's seat in her mind.
Zemo hung back and watched; he knew immediately what gave Stephan the ability to punch a man across a room and into a wall.
"Why didn't you call me?" Chanel placed her hand gently on Stephan's arm.
He smiled at her, "got carried away. Be my guest." He waved his hand in Nicolo's direction.
"Please," Nicolo whimpered as Chanel stalked towards him.
She turned his head to the side to see the mark she had left on his neck earlier that evening. He had it crudely bandaged, and it was bleeding profusely.
"Begging is not a good look on you," Chanel said flatly before her tone switched, her words coming out in a sinister purr. "It's out of my hands now. You knew better."
Chanel hadn't intended on hurting him again, but she was furious at the thought of this man harming those she had cared about, those she felt responsible for. Without thinking, she pulled her gun and shot him in the foot.
After his screaming subsided, she met his eyes, "that was for attempting to harm what is mine."
His anguish didn't bring her any peace; it only flamed the aggression coursing through her.
She put a bullet in the other foot, and Nicolo crumpled to the floor in agony. She loomed over him, "and that was for touching me."
Stephan placed his hands on her shoulders, "he touched you?"
"He tried."
Chanel's gun was still pointing at Nicolo, now trained on his kneecap.
I shouldn't. Walk away before you do something else you'll regret later.
"What are you waiting for?" Stephan whispered in her ear.
Chanel turned her head to look at him. He raised his eyebrow; the question he was asking didn't need to be spoken aloud. Was she going to please him or not?
Stephan read some minute change in her expression, and a sly grin crept onto his face. He grabbed her hand and raised her aim from Nicolo's kneecap to his stomach, where it would cause the most pain.
"Do it." He commanded.
Her heart pounding in her chest, she pulled the trigger, immediately turning to search out admiration in Stephan's eyes.
"Good girl," he whispered against her ear.
Zemo was enthralled; she had become a different person.
Chanel's heart rate slowed as Stephan's praise washed over her. She stepped back and watched Stephan roll up the sleeves of his black button-down shirt. Her eyes lingering on the toned muscles of his forearms.
He squatted down to look Nicolo in the eye. Then, without saying anything, he grabbed his hand and slowly squeezed it until Chanel heard the bones crack.
She watched as he repeated the action on the other hand.
Is that possible?
"Why don't you and the Baron go wait in the car? I'll finish cleaning up here." Stephan's voice was dark, and Chanel knew better than to argue.
She grabbed Zemo's hand, and they rushed to the car, leaving Nicolo's screaming behind them.
She didn't enjoy it, but torture was not unfamiliar to Chanel, both in the U.S. government and outside of it. She knew Stephan only resorted to it when it was truly deserved. At least that's what she told herself to keep the guilt away.
"What an interesting evening. Is this how you spent most nights here undercover?" Zemo studied her closely as they sat in the car waiting on Stephan.
"If you're asking if I make a habit out of murder and torture, no, I don't."
"But it doesn't bother you."
Chanel laughed shortly. "I'm a spy for the U.S. government. Steph is merciful compared to the things I have seen done to men much less deserving than this one, all in the pursuit of freedom."
Chanel knew the excuse was weak, but why should she care what Zemo thought. He had certainly done worse things in his lifetime. Being honest with him was as easy as breathing.
"He might be testing that limit tonight."
"Out of sight, out of mind." Chanel leaned forward, resting her elbows on the front seats, her eyes laser-focused on the exit, waiting on Stephan to appear.
Zemo decided against mentioning his theory about what Stephan had taken from Dante all those months ago. If he was right, he was outgunned and certainly outnumbered; he was sure Chanel would not be on his side. Not yet, anyway.
"I'm glad that you decided to take my advice; a surprise attack in the middle of the night would have been hard to defend against."
"I might have to listen to you more often." Chanel turned back to give Zemo a wink and a smile.
The adrenaline rushing through her veins had her almost giddy. The high she had was fueling her, and she felt fully transformed into her old identity as Frau Thomas. The realization of this titillated her more; finally, she was getting what she had been searching for. She wasn't going to let it go easily.
A moment later, Stephan came out of the warehouse. He threw an empty gas can on the ground and calmly made his way to the car. He opened the trunk, and they watched him walk a few paces in front of the car with a grenade launcher. With one shot, the warehouse was in the process of burning down. Stephan turned cooly and placed the weapon back in the trunk before sliding into the back seat.
Chanel was still leaning forward in her seat, watching the flames reach up to the sky.
"Quite impressive," Zemo said to Stephan as he admired the look on Chanel's face.
She was exhilarated, proud, set free. She was born for this. It was evident to Zemo that she didn't belong with Sam and Bucky.
He imagined for a moment what it would be like to have her by his side on his missions. His lips whispering praises in her ear as they reveled in their violent delights, keeping the violent ends at bay. His daydream was interrupted when Stephan pulled her into a kiss. He respectfully looked out the window as Manfred drove them back to the villa.
Stephan whispered to Chanel, "du bist ein Schatz."
"I know," Chanel muttered against his lips. The joy that consumed her from making Stephan happy left no room for doubt or guilt about what she had done.
She turned to Zemo with a bright smile, "Thank you for coming with us, Helmut."
Zemo was taken aback when she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.
This is what you wanted, just part of the plan. She's falling for it.
Zemo continued silently, trying to convince himself that was all it was as he watched Stephan pull Chanel back to his side. He shot her a look that Zemo didn't like but that Chanel ignored.
"It was my pleasure," he started, "I am concerned, though. The Power Broker sent Nicolo to kill you, and he said others had already tried."
Chanel had already forgotten about the exchange they overheard but had not had time to process. She leaned away from Stephan and sat up, alert. "You're right. I haven't been attacked. Well, other than my Paris mission going south." She paused as she thought, making connections quickly.
"What happened in Paris?" Stephan asked, concerned.
"My cover was blown; I didn't know how but now I think I do. But how could the Power Broker have even known I was in Paris?"
"The Power Broker knows everything. Especially when he wants something from you, especially when that something is your life." Zemo didn't even have to lie for dramatics. Everything he said was a simple fact. "It's too bad you destroyed the vaccine you stole. Are you sure there isn't any left? Maybe giving it back would keep the Power Broker off her back." Zemo feigned innocence as he made his suggestion to Stephan.
"No, I told you I destroyed it all." He didn't look at Zemo, keeping his eyes on Chanel. "Don't worry. I promise I'll keep you safe."
Stephan kept his arm wrapped around Chanel's shoulders as they walked inside the house. The incandescent moon cast malevolent shadows across the grand space.
"Shall we have a celebratory drink?" Stephan asked as he steered Chanel to the bar. He waved Zemo over.
"Normally I would, but I think it best that I retire for the night. We do have to be up in a few hours. Thank you for the lovely evening." Zemo relinquished his guns to Chanel, and she placed them on the bar top. "Goodnight, my dear," he nodded at Chanel.
She started to reach out for his hand, but Stephan's hand closed tightly around her bicep, pulling her backward. Chanel glared at him and forcefully yanked her arm out of his grip. His behavior was starting to get under her skin. As if they had never been apart, they slipped right back into their usual patterns. She wanted to piss him off. With a defiant glance in Stephan's direction, she told Zemo goodnight. She wrapped her arms around him in a hug that spoke to a level of intimacy that did not exist between them.
Zemo tried to search her face for a hint at what he was supposed to do. Did she want him to stay? But her angry gaze was glued to Stephan. "Are you okay?" He whispered to her.
Chanel looked at him like she didn't understand the question; like she had forgotten, he wasn't just a prop to be used at her whim. "I'm good. Thanks. I'll see you in the morning."
Her stormy eyes returned to Stephan, and he gently pushed her away and excused himself from the room. They didn't wait for him to disappear up the stairs before they started yelling at each other.
Zemo flinched when he heard Stephan call her a whore followed by the unmistakable sound of something heavy whizzing through the air and smashing into the wall.
If I were to kill him now, it would undoubtedly bring me pleasure, but I need to find out if he has any of the serum left.
For a moment, he thought about waking up James to fill him in on what was going on but decided against it when the noises downstairs quickly turned from rage to lust.
Best to keep Chanel as an ally for now. I guess he can be allowed to breathe for a bit longer.
It will make for an entertaining morning, at least.
Stephan's lips moved roughly against Chanel's. When she kissed him back just as urgently, a low moan left his throat. He gripped her waist and lifted her up onto the bar counter. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer as he pulled her jacket off and threw it on the floor. It landed on top of the scattered broken gems from the Faberge egg that Chanel had chucked at his head. His hands roamed over her body quickly, as if to claim every piece as his once more.
He broke the kiss, the sensations overwhelming him for a moment. "So, you still consider me yours?" He teased as he caught his breath.
"What?" Chanel tried to kiss him again, but he was persistent.
"Tonight, you told Nicolo that you shot him because he threatened what was yours. I thought you moved on."
Chanel hesitated, "I have. But it still pissed me off when you and Manfred were under threat."
Stephan was barely listening; he was planting demanding kisses on her neck. "Come stay with me in your proper room." His lips reached her weak spot and gently sucked on the tender skin.
"Fuck," she moaned quietly as she gripped his hair to hold him in place.
He chuckled against her skin. He had dreamt of this moment since the day she had left him. He needed her in more ways than one. Now that he had her, he wasn't going to let her go.
Stephan scooped her up from the counter and planted his lips back on hers as he carried her to the master bedroom down the hall. Their bodies quickly synced together, completing the deranged ritual. Chanel's head was clear; she felt weightless as she surrendered to Stephan's pleasure.
Sam had slept restlessly. He was still mad at Chanel, but Bucky's words had touched a nerve. He eventually decided that all things considered, she had done what she needed to do, and nobody got seriously hurt.
He had already been awake when his alarm went off at 5 am. After throwing his running clothes on, he left his room to talk to Chanel.
Wait a minute, I didn't hear her scream at all last night...that's odd.
When he stepped into the hall, he saw Bucky, also dressed in athletic clothes, already at Chanel's door.
"I thought you didn't run?" Sam asked as he approached Bucky.
Bucky ignored his question, "She's not answering. I don't know if she's still asleep or—"
Sam opened the door with the confidence only an old friend would have. "Chanel? It's me; we need to talk."
Sam stepped into the empty room, "Chanel?"
She wasn't there. He thought maybe she had already left on her run, but then he noticed her tennis shoes still on the floor.
Weird, what else would she be doing up this early?
Zemo...no, surely she's not...she wouldn't.
Sam shook the thought out of his head, feeling guilty for even thinking it. He turned to Bucky, who was still standing in the doorway. "I guess she's already downstairs. I wouldn't be surprised if Manfred made her a goodbye breakfast feast."
Bucky laughed shortly, "That sounds about right."
"Whoa, was that a laugh?"
"Barely. Don't push it."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Did Chanel wake you up at all last night? I didn't hear her wake up from a nightmare."
"No, I didn't hear anything. So that's good, right?"
"Maybe." Sam gave one last wary look around the room; he was worried about what Chanel may have done to keep the nightmares at bay.
Upon approaching the kitchen, they could hear Zemo speaking in German. They shared a suspicious glance when the voice that replied was unrecognizable. On edge, they cautiously entered the kitchen, always expecting the worst. But, instead, they found an untroubled Zemo sipping coffee while he leaned against the counter talking to Stephan.
"Zemo, who the hell is this?" Sam's eyes scanned the room, "and where is Chanel?"
"You must be Sam. I'm Stephan; this is my home." Stephan did not extend his hand. He was frigidly leaning against the kitchen island, his face poorly masking his annoyance. He turned his gaze to Bucky, "And you must be James. Manfred has told me you have made yourself quite comfortable here with my things."
Bucky cocked his head to the side, a snarky reply ready on his tongue. Sam cut in before he could get a word out.
"Don't worry, we'll be out of here soon. Speaking of, where is Chanel?"
Sam was almost afraid to ask. Stephan's presence had him rethinking forgiving her for the previous night.
"She's sleeping," Stephan replied as he moved across the kitchen to the coffee machine, already bored with their conversation.
"Sleeping?" Sam anxiously checked his watch. "She knows we need to leave as soon as possible."
"Don't wake her." Stephan turned around quickly, "Let her sleep; she clearly hasn't been resting well."
Bucky felt a small wave of dread pass through him.
She's just sleeping. It doesn't mean anything. Calm down.
"She did have a rough night. A couple hours won't mess up our travel plans." Zemo offered.
Sam could feel that something wasn't right. His attempt to stay level-headed was failing; he simply didn't have the energy.
"You don't get to have opinions, Zemo!" Sam yelled.
The yelling in the kitchen had woken Chanel, she would have been annoyed, but she was just happy it wasn't her own screaming that had woken her up for once. She rolled over in Stephan's bed. The silk sheets he had bought, just for the protection of her hair, caressed her skin, begging her to never get up. As she became more conscious, she felt the cold heavy diamonds on her chest, reminding her what Stephan really wanted. He had fastened the ostentatious string of white-gold and exquisite gems around her neck while she was still blissed out. She ran her fingers over the diamonds and decided it would be ridiculous to return the gift. Stephan had to know she wouldn't stay; he wasn't naive. She finally opened her eyes, looking for him, and realized he was already gone.
Did he sleep at all?
It clicked that if Stephan wasn't in bed, he must be out in the house. And Sam was yelling.
Oh shit…
She jumped out of bed and looked for her clothes. Everything was strewn around the room and ripped into pieces.
What the fuck...did Steph do that last night?
She picked up a piece of what used to be her black bodysuit. In his impatience to have her, Stephan had ripped it in two.
Chanel dropped the tattered clothes on the floor and dug through Stephan's drawers. She chose a plain t-shirt, which for Stephan was a crisp white linen Gucci V-neck, and pulled it over her head. Even though the shirt covered her enough, she grabbed a pair of boxers and pulled them on too. Her fingers snagged on the knots in her hair as she appraised her appearance in the full-length mirror.
God, why am I so sore?
She winced when she stretched to the side. Lifting her shirt, she saw the beginnings of a bruise on her left hip; a similar bruise was also on the right side. The dark spots reminded her how powerfully possessive Stephan's hands had been on her body last night.
Damn.
She ran her fingers over the bruises, and her thoughts drifted.
I wonder what Bucky's hands will feel like...
As if her thought had called to him, she heard his voice join the others in the kitchen.
Just the sound of his voice lifted her mood a notch, excitement to see him brewing. She then realized how she looked in Stephan's clothes with his marks on her body and neck. How she ended her conversation with Bucky last night also came back to her, and her stomach sank.
Pull yourself together, Chanel. You can apologize for last night, but you don't owe him anything other than that.
Why should I care if he sees me like this? It's none of his business.
As she walked down the hall towards the kitchen, she started to lose her nerve.
Okay, maybe I don't need to rub his nose in it, though.
She tried sneaking past the kitchen to get to the stairs, but Manfred caught sight of her and called her name.
Shit!
She paused and turned her head to see all 5 men staring at her from the kitchen door—Zemo furthest in the back smiling to himself.
"Good morning Schätzchen, did we wake you?" Stephan ran his hands over her hair as he spoke to her.
Chanel froze, her eyes watching the displeasure and disbelief on Sam's and Bucky's faces. Manfred looked quite pleased with himself as he watched them and threw smug looks in Bucky's direction.
"Um, no, I just want to go get dressed." Chanel tried to leave, but Stephan grabbed her hand.
"Come, eat something first. Manfred worked all morning preparing a goodbye breakfast for you. Though you know, you could just stay and make this breakfast unnecessary."
Stephan wrapped his arm around Chanel's shoulders and led her into the kitchen.
The wave of dread fully crashed over Bucky, nearly drowning him, as he took in what was happening, or rather what had already happened. His increased perception was a curse at that moment. He easily noted the bruises that peppered her neck, the way her hair was mussed from the lack of a brush, the slight puffiness of her lips, the obvious menswear she adorned, and that fucking necklace.
How did this happen?
He watched dejectedly as they chatted while Stephan made her a cup of coffee. She didn't even look at him. Her eyes never left Stephan's face.
She said it had all been fake, a lie.
Bucky wondered if maybe she really did love Stephan.
Was I just a distraction until she got what she really wanted?
He lost his resolve to stay in the kitchen when he watched Stephan rub the small of her back as she sipped her coffee. He quickly left the room as his dread turned into rage.
Sam watched him stalk off.
I knew he wasn't ready to handle her shit.
He turned to glare at Chanel. She was watching Bucky leave with a look of guilt on her face, but she remained where she was, leaning against the tall German man who had randomly shown up.
"Chanel. A word?" He said through gritted teeth.
"She needs to eat," Stephan said dismissively as he wrapped his arm around Chanel's waist, pulling her closer to his side.
"I wasn't talking to you, man," Sam spat.
Stephan whipped his head up, "Excuse me?"
Chanel knew Stephan was about to get angry; she put her hand on his chest before he could say anything else. "It's fine, Steph. I need to talk to Sam, and I need to get dressed. I'll be right back."
He didn't let go of her, so she added, "I promise," and tilted her head up slightly, signaling for him to kiss her.
He let her go after the kiss, and she chased after Sam, who was already speed walking away in anger. He led her through the sitting room and out the patio doors before he spun around and began yelling.
"Are you fucking kidding me with this?!"
"I know. I know. I wanted to apologize last night. Can you just let me explain what happened?"
"Last night? This isn't about last night!"
Chanel shook her head in confusion. "What? So you're saying you're not mad that two drug dealers showed up last night, and I almost killed one of them?"
"No. I was mad about that, but Bucky, whose heart you just stomped all over, convinced me to forgive you. But, this? This is not okay." Sam paced around in circles with his hands on his hips. "How did this even happen?! Why is he here?!"
"Oh fuck, I forgot he said he was going to talk to you." Chanel's guilt was increasing, threatening to pull her back down from the high she had finally found. "Okay, I fucked that up, I admit. But 'stomped all over his heart'? That's a bit dramatic. Stephan just showed up last night; he was worried and flew straight home. Things happened; it's not a big deal."
"It's not a big deal," Sam laughed mockingly. "So you prancing around in another man's clothes with hickies all over your neck...acting all domestic picture of happiness, isn't a big deal? Did you not see him leave?!"
"Jesus, will you calm down! He kissed me a couple times, and now what? We're in a committed relationship?! I don't owe him anything!" Chanel's guilt was making her more defensive than she typically would have been. She could feel the dam starting to break, the shame from the previous night's activities threatening to burst through.
"This is exactly why I didn't want you messing with him."
They glared at each other silently for a moment, neither willing to say what was really going through their heads for fear of truly hurting each other.
Chanel broke first, "I'm sorry, okay? For everything, last night, and Steph showing up out of the blue. I know it stresses you out. I really want to help, and I keep fucking things up. I'll do better, I promise."
Sam nodded his appreciation; she sounded sincere, but he wasn't satisfied yet. "And Bucky?"
Chanel sighed and crossed her arms protectively, "you know I'm right. I didn't do anything wrong. I think it's nice that you're looking out for him, but we're all adults here. I think he can handle himself. I'll be sure and thank him for talking to you."
Knowing that was the best he would get out of her, his anger subsided, replaced by anxiousness to leave the villa as soon as possible.
"I guess you have a point, but just be more mindful; he clearly has feelings for you."
Chanel made a face of disbelief.
"Don't be naive. Not everyone is as cold-hearted as you are. Now, please go get ready so we can get the hell out of here."
Chanel nodded in agreement, and they walked back into the sitting room.
"That necklace is ridiculous by the way," Sam said muttered so only she could hear him.
Chanel jabbed him with her elbow. "You're just jealous."
Zemo and Stephan had moved from the kitchen to the couch and were watching the news. Stephan pulled Chanel onto the sofa next to him before she could make it to the stairs.
"Look." He pointed to the screen, where the news showed footage of the warehouse they had attacked, burning to the ground.
Sam planted himself behind the couch and watched the broadcast, his eyes flicking between the screen and Stephan and Chanel on the sofa.
"Chanel? Isn't it an odd coincidence that this warehouse, that belonged to the Agostinelli, just happened to burn down the same night they came here and tried to extort you?" Sam had no hint of playfulness in his tone.
Bucky came back downstairs, having changed into his usual t-shirt and jeans, and stood next to Sam behind the couch. Chanel flinched at the loud thud of duffel bags hitting the floor; he had brought Sam's down too, clearly ready to leave.
Before Chanel could answer Sam, Stephan replied, "It's no coincidence. I made a quick stop before I came home."
"You did this?" Bucky challenged.
Stephan turned around to look Bucky in the eyes, "Well, what would you have done if someone had threatened your family?"
Bucky glowered at him, barely restraining his urge to knock the smirk off of his prim face.
Sam wasn't buying it, but he had no reason not to, so he and Stephan just shared a challenging stare.
Chanel caught Bucky's eye, and he quickly looked away from her, making her heart sink.
"Steph? Why don't you go prepare my things while I go upstairs and get ready?"
Stephan finally looked away from Sam and smiled at her, "Certainly. Meet me in the study when you're done."
She returned his smile and quickly moved off the couch before he could kiss her. She tried to make eye contact with Bucky again, to signal that she wanted him to follow her, but he wouldn't look in her direction.
Dammit. I've got to fix this. He'll come around; he has to talk to me at some point. Maybe when we're out of this stupid house.
The villa was no longer a retreat; it was starting to feel like it was suffocating her. Like it was trying to lock her in as its prisoner.
She quickly showered, the warm water washing away the sins of the previous night. The hurt look she had seen in Bucky's eyes kept her stomach twisted in knots. Sam's voice calling her cold-hearted replayed in her head, so even though she didn't have the time, she sat at the vanity and applied foundation over the marks on her neck and chest.
One last-minute thought had her running back to her closet. She searched through it until she found a box of wigs. She now knew she was a wanted woman, and Madripoor was already unsafe enough as it was. The honey blonde one she had worn last time she was in Madripoor was still on top. She gently placed it into a silk pouch and put it in her bag before going downstairs.
When she hit the bottom step, Sam turned around, "Ready?"
"In a second, Steph has my gear."
Bucky snatched her luggage from her and went outside to Zemo's car.
"Can you blame him?" Zemo said in response to the annoyed look on her face.
Chanel chewed on her cheek as she pushed past him to get to the study.
Great, even Zemo thinks I'm a cold-hearted bitch.
Sam and Zemo followed her curiously.
"Damn. What is all of this stuff?" Sam reached out to touch a curious-looking bracelet in the large weapons case on the table.
Chanel swatted his hand away. "Don't touch. It's not a toy."
Sam eyed the lethal-looking weapons in the case with a frown. "Are you sure you need all of this? We're not assassins, you know."
Chanel looked between Sam and Stephan, both staring at her expectantly as if asking her to choose right there who she was loyal to. As if they were asking her to decide what kind of person she was.
"I'm not going to kill anyone," Chanel snapped, avoiding Stephan's disappointed glare.
"So, you're the reason she's gone soft," Stephan addressed Sam with malice in his voice. "If anything happens to her because of your childish moral code—"
"Nothing is going to happen to her,'' Sam fired back. "Not while she's with us."
"Are you sure about that? The other one—" Stephan referred to Bucky as if he didn't remember his name, "is he even safe to have around her? Shouldn't he be in an insane asylum or something?"
Sam looked like he was ready to knock Stephan's head off his shoulders. Even Zemo looked annoyed.
Chanel's eyes widened a fraction before narrowing. "Steph don't be a dick! These are my friends."
Stephan rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively as if that excused his comments.
Chanel snapped the weapons case closed. "Sam, can you and Zemo take this to the car for me? I'll be right out."
Sam took the case from her, "Don't make me have to come back in here and find you."
Zemo shut the glass door behind them, "I forgot something upstairs. I'll be out shortly."
Sam nodded, and Zemo headed to the stairs. When Sam was out of sight, he quietly moved back to the study and strained to hear the conversation.
"So that's it then? You think you're going to leave me to go be what—?" An Avenger?" Stephan laughed at her mockingly.
"I'm not trying to be an Avenger. I'm just helping a friend. And I left you a long time ago." Chanel returned the same level of venom that he had sent her way.
Stephan's eyes flickered with anger. "You think you can just change who you are?" He hissed.
Chanel wavered, frozen in place as she stared into his deadly eyes. He wasn't yelling; his voice was cold, calculated like he knew exactly what damage he was about to do and wanted to enjoy every second of it.
"You know who you are. You showed me last night. You're a cruel, violent, wicked woman. You're not a hero." Stephan circled around her like a shark, "What do you think is going to happen when your friends see the real you? They're going to leave you, just like everyone else."
Chanel didn't know why she was crying; he wasn't saying anything she didn't already know. Of course, he was right. But hearing it out loud made her feel stupid for even thinking she belonged anywhere but here.
Stephan wiped a tear off of her cheek, "Don't cry, mein Schatz. You're perfect. I'm the only one that will truly accept you for who you really are."
Chanel wiped the tears from her face, willing herself to snap out of his trance.
"I'm going, Steph, you're not going to talk me out of it. I don't want to end things like this."
"Then don't end it," he replied with a hint of desperation in his voice. "At least promise me you'll—" he started to say, 'be safe' but knew that was a ridiculous ask, "—come out of this alive." His fingers trailed over the diamonds on her neck.
Chanel looked down at her feet, "Steph—"
"Don't. Just listen." He gently lifted her chin, staring into her wet eyes. "I know what you're going to say, but I don't care. I love you, I've always loved you, and I know you feel the same way. You're just too stubborn to admit it."
Chanel closed her eyes as if the darkness would swallow his words. "Steph, you know how I feel. I'm not capable of loving you, of loving anyone."
"Like I said, stubborn." He held his finger to her lips to stop her retort. "My point is, I won't have you running around out there risking your life because when you do finally come to your senses, I want you alive and well and able to come home."
He grabbed her hand and led her over to the safe. Zemo watched through the door as he revealed another safe within the walls of the first. From it, Stephan withdrew a small box. He opened it, took something out, and put the box back into the safe.
He turned back to Chanel, "I should have told you this a long time ago, but I didn't want to get you involved. However, now that we know the Power Broker is after us, and you insist on leaving, you should know." He opened his hand, and Zemo's heartbeat increased.
"Steph! How do you have this?" Chanel stared at the vial of super-soldier serum in his hand in disbelief.
"I took it. From Dante. This is what Klaus was trying to buy from the Power Broker."
"So you didn't destroy it? How much of it do you have?"
"Of course not. I sold most of it."
"To who?"
"Your government. The CIA was very interested."
"And the rest?"
"Well, I took one for myself, and I have 4 more vials here, including this one that I want you to take."
Chanel stumbled backward in shock. "Wait a second. You're telling me that you took the serum? As in, currently, right now, you are a super-soldier?!"
"Did I not make that obvious last night? You wound me." Stephan brought his hand to his chest playfully.
"Steph, this isn't funny. How could you? And how could you think that I would want to take it?!"
"Why not? It will keep you safe. And when you come back home, we can be as we were. No one will be able to stop us."
Chanel stared at him in disbelief, a million things rushing through her mind. Number one being Zemo. He couldn't find out about this.
"Just take it, and at least consider it. For me, okay?"
Chanel took the vial and stuffed it in her jacket pocket. The urge to leave was suddenly overwhelming.
"I've got to go."
"I know." He grabbed her for one last kiss and rested his forehead on hers, "I have some people looking for information on the Power Broker. We're going to find out who this bastard is. I'll keep you updated."
"I would appreciate that. Goodbye, Stephan."
Zemo hurried out of the house and climbed into his car, impatiently tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.
"Took you long enough. What did you forget?" Sam asked.
"Oh, nothing," Zemo answered, distractedly. His jaw was tight with anger; all the different ways he could kill Stephan flicking through his mind like a horrifying picture book.
Chanel practically ran out of the house and threw herself into the passenger seat. "Let's go."
Zemo stomped his foot on the gas, and they sped off.
"Damn, what's got you two so on edge?" Sam turned around to look out the back window, half expecting the house to be in flames.
"Nothing." Chanel and Zemo snapped at the same time.
Chanel eyed Zemo suspiciously; he looked ready to murder someone.
He tried to pull himself together and offered her a tight smile, "I don't think any of us are sad to say goodbye to your possessive ex-boyfriend. Or is he no longer an ex?"
Bucky turned his head toward the conversation, interested to hear her response.
"He's very much an ex."
"Splendid. You deserve so much better. We can all breathe a sigh of relief. Right, Sam?"
Sam grunted his approval. "Yeah, he's a peach. I can really see the appeal," he said sarcastically.
"I'm sorry about him; I don't know what got into him today. I swear he's not usually like that."
Sam just gave her a concerned look.
This is definitely a conversation we are having later.
"James?" Zemo prompted.
"Not my business," Bucky replied shortly. "Can you just drive? We don't need conversation."
"Apologies." Zemo turned on the radio, and they all sat in silence.
Chanel sank a little in her seat as she chewed on her cheek. Bucky sounded particularly broody.
How am I going to make this right?
She felt exhausted from being pulled in so many directions. She knew she couldn't stay there with Stephan, but part of her wondered if that was her best chance at happiness. She shook the thought out of her head, Sam was her priority, and she couldn't make both of them happy.
As they passed through the gate, leaving the villa in the rearview mirror, a fleet of unmarked black sedans sped past them. Chanel turned in her seat and watched as they entered the gate. She knew those cars well. They belonged to Stephan's number one henchman.
Probably helping him with the Power Broker stuff, but why so many of them?
Stephan stepped out onto the front steps as the cars pulled into the driveway. His duffle bag was slung over his shoulder, his phone in his hand as he watched a blinking dot on a map move farther away from his home.
"How long until the plane is ready?" He asked of the large man that met him on the steps.
"It will be ready for take-off as soon as you arrive."
Stephan nodded. "And you have prepared the others?" His gaze was focused on the three tough-looking men that were approaching.
"They know it won't tickle if that's what you mean."
"Good, it doesn't take long. Manfred will administer the serum. When they're done, send them straight to the airstrip to meet the rest of us. We don't have much time."
"Understood," the large man motioned for the others to go inside.
The three men nodded to Stephan respectfully as they passed.
Stephan ran his hand through his hair, the team he was assembling calmed him a little, but it wasn't enough. He had a small army but a limited supply of serum. "Did you get in touch with—what was her name? The Flag-Smasher girl."
The large man frowned; he didn't like disappointing his boss. "I did, but she's not selling."
Stephan scoffed, "Not selling? Did you tell her how much we were offering her?"
"She said her movement was more important than money. I can keep trying; everyone has a price."
Stephan's jaw was locked as he glanced back down at the moving dot on his phone. "No. If she doesn't want to do it the easy way, well—" Stephan left his sentence unfinished as he began walking to the SUV, his eyes glued to his phone.
"I'll let you know their whereabouts as soon as I get a solid lead," the man called after him.
Stephan waved his hand in acknowledgment as he climbed into the back of the SUV. Each one that followed carried more men dressed in tactical gear, ready to follow Stephan into war.
As they pulled away from the villa, he wondered if it might be overkill. His eyes drifted back to the blinking dot on his phone, and he made a mental list of all the people he would have to go through to get what he wanted.
Not overkill. I will get her back, no matter what.