Time for a little Miguel again. It's a bit short and abrupt, but I'm tired… :P
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber and Susan Kay.
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Everything had gone according to plan. Perfectly, actually. Tayce was gone, and he was getting closer each second to close the his deal with Raoul de Chagny. As Miguel wandered down the streets of the fancy part of Paris on his way to the de Chagny's town house, he almost felt like whistling. In a few months time, he would be a rich man. He could almost smell the money, and he rubbed his fingers together, aching to relish in the feeling of paper bills in his hands. Soon.
He rang the door bell, and was let in by a stiff, formal butler, probably an old family servant. He looked like he could dote on the precious vicomte.
"What is your business here, Monsieur?"
"I'm
here to see the vicomte, is he in?" he replied. The
butler thought for a moment or two.
"No,
Monsieur, I'm sorry. But he is expected back at any moment now.
Madame de Vicomtess is in the drawing room. Do you wish to
wait with her?" A moment alone with Christine. Hell yes.
He
was shown into the room, and Christine rose, looking slightly
nervous, to greet him.
"Monsieur Mantillo! What a pleasure, are
you here to see Raoul?" He smiled, and kissed her hand.
"I assure you, Madame, the pleasure is entirely mine. Yes, I'm here to discuss a thing or two with him, but I heard he's out. Maybe I should return another time?" He looked down at her, flashing her a smile he often used on women, with positive effect.
"Oh no, not at all! Please stay, I must admit I feel a little lonely. Maybe you could tell me about Portugal? You are from there, are you not?" Miguel felt like groaning. Always, always stories about Portugal. He hated it there. Why the hell do they think he moved here for?
"I'd bore you within a moment, madame de Chagny. Why don't you tell me about you and Raoul? How did you to meet? It must have been very romantic, he speaks very highly of you." She paled a little, he thought, and her hands were not entirely steady.
"It's not much to tell really. We met as children, in Sweden, and reunited here in Paris and got married." She spoke quickly, and it was obvious that this wasn't the whole story. He suddenly felt curious. Who was this beauty, really? Sweden, she said, but what more?
His thoughts were interrupted when Raoul entered the room, smiling as usual. Miguel decided not to think more about who the mysterious dark little woman was, and focused on his businesses. They were all that mattered now. Money first, women later.
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Ladila…. That little purple button, you know…. It doesn't take long…