I do not own any of the characters from The Phantom of the Opera, although I do rather enjoy borrowing them from time to time.

A/N Hi everyone. Hope you all had a nice weekend. Well here is the update I promised you. I will hopefully get a chapter posted at least sometime during this week. I can't say when because it all depends on work of course. This chapter has a little bit of heat at the end. It is my first attempt at writing in this style so feedback would be much appreciated. Thanks for all of you kind and encouraging reviews.

Here is the next chapter. Enjoy!

Author – ToryD

Beta – Potosynthesis

Choices

Chapter 8

Cara sat next to the still pouting Marcel. "Quit fidgeting!" She admonished him sharply.

Marcel turned to give her a glare from his dark brown eyes. "I can't help it! It's all your fault anyway." He said with a spiteful retort.

Cara smiled at the elderly couple who had just taken their seats in front of them. Leaning over she whispered into Marcel's ear. "And how is it my fault?"

Marcel looked down his nose at her. "Because you made me wear underwear!" He said a little too loudly.

Cara felt a blush stain her cheeks as they garnered curious looks from all of those seated around them. "Say it a little more loudly next time, I'm not sure they heard you in the balconies." She hissed between clenched teeth.

Sighing deeply Marcel resigned himself for a long boring evening of music. "What's this opera about anyway?" He asked in an irritated tone.

Cara looked at her program to try to answer her companion's question. "It's Mozart's 'The Marriage of Figaro,'" she said softly.

Laughing gleefully, Marcel let Cara in on his little joke. "Change that name to Fagaro and I'm your man!"

Cara elbowed him sharply in his ribs. "Marcel, if you don't straighten up I swear…," she let her threat trail off.

Marcel gave her an amused look. "You'll what?" He dared her with a jaunty raise of one eyebrow.

Cara thought for a moment and then turned slowly to face the still amused Marcel. "I will take out a full page ad in the Post and publish your high school senior picture." She promised with a smug, satisfied smile.

Marcel gasped in horror at her ominous threat. "You wouldn't dare!" He countered in an agitated tone as he mentally pictured his senior yearbook that housed his geeky acne ridden likeness.

Cara raised her chin in defiance. "Try me." She challenged softly.

Marcel considered of her threat and weighted his options. "Fine." He said sulkily as he sank back into his chair and crossed his arms across his chest.

Cara relaxed a bit now that she had Marcel back in line. Looking about the ornate opera house, she was surprised to see that Janelle had not yet arrived. Glancing at her watch, she saw that the performance was due to begin in a few minutes. "Janelle is not here yet."

Marcel looked about in search of their friend, his eyes widened upon the discovery of another couple just entering the center balcony above them. "Well Janelle may not be here yet but your Mr. Desmond is."

Cara felt her heart skip a beat as she looked up at Erik with that little bitch Christine. She felt a tidal wave of pure rage wash over her at the attentiveness Erik was showing to Christine as he assisted her to her seat. Damn you Erik, you never treated me like that. She thought to herself in self-pity.

Turning back to look at the stage Marcel felt a strong sense of hopelessness in Cara's plan. For when he looked at Erik Desmond with the lovely Christine, he knew that he had never seen such devotion as he had in Erik as he looked at his fiancé. Oh Cara girl, I am afraid that you will be the one who will lose in the end. He thought sadly. Feeling Cara's tension, he reached over to put a comforting arm about her shoulders.

Cara smiled gratefully at his reassuring gesture. As the lights began to dim, Cara felt as though she was about to embark on the battle which would decide her future happiness. Straightening her shoulders, she vowed to be the victor at the end of all of it all. I will have you back Erik, I will.

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Christine sat on the edge of her seat as she let the music transport her to a different world. A world without the insufferable demands from the dark man who sat at her side. A world without obligations to the countless many whose livelihood she held in her small hands. Totally enraptured with the performers she was unaware of the stares she was attracting. First from her fiancé who, since the evening began had been unable to look away from the ethereal vision she created. Second, from the various socialites who were curious to see the woman who had finally landed one of the worlds most sought after bachelors. And lastly, from Cara, who's normally exquisite face was distorted into a mask of pure unadulterated loathing, as she allowed the depth of her hatred free reign.

Erik was pleased that Christine seemed so absorbed by the performance. What a wife she will make! He thought to himself as he admired the sheer beauty of her. A sixth sense warned him of an unidentifiable feeling of unease. Looking about the theater, he saw the reason for his apprehension. "Shit." He cursed under his breath, for down on the forth row was Cara who at this very moment was staring daggers at Christine. Reaching out her grasped Christine's hand to bring it to his lips in a move of silent protection.

Christine tilted her head and smiled at Erik's gesture, causing Erik to tighten his grip on her hand.

Cara witnessed the tender scene with a bitter taste in her mouth. Turning back to face the stage, she declared to herself that she would be the one to draw the preverbal first blood tonight. Intermission is in coming shortly Little Miss Innocent Daae, let us see how you do without the big bad Erik by your side. She thought to herself as she planned her interception of Christine in the ladies room

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Erik placed a proprietor hand on the small of Christine's back as they maneuvered their way through the well-dressed crowd. "What would you like to drink, Christine?" He questioned her politely.

Not normally a drinker Christine considered his question. "I'll have a vodka martini." She answered as she decided that she could use a drink to get through the rest of the evening.

Erik nodded his acquiescence as he turned in the direction of the well-stock bar while Christine headed to the ladies room to repair her lipstick.

Cara, seeing her chance patted Marcel's arm and bestowed a wicked smile upon him. "Here I go, wish me luck."

Marcel had a bad taste in his mouth as he watched Cara go after her competition.

Christine sat at one of the small vanity stations in the luxurious bathroom as she allowed her mind to replay the heart-wrenching message that Raoul had left for her earlier.

Cara took the empty seat next to Christine and took out her small bag of expensive cosmetics. "Hello, you must be Christine." She said pleasantly as she looked at Christine's reflection in the mirror.

Christine stared back at the stunning redhead in the exquisite emerald green gown, "Yes, I'm sorry have we met?"

Cara uncapped her Chanel red lip liner. "No, but we have a mutual friend you might say." She offered in response to Christine's question.

Christine felt a small warning bell go off in her head at the cryptic comment from the elegant woman. "May I ask who that might be?"

"Of course. Erik Desmond, the man you are planning to marry." She said with a cold look in her eyes.

Christine frowned at the look she was receiving. "Oh, how do you know Erik?" She asked with somewhat of an edge to her voice.

Cara laughed in an all-knowing tone. "Well let's just say that Erik and I go way back, if you know what I mean."

Christine stiffened at the coquettish response. "Oh, may I ask your name?"

"Cara, Cara Johnson," she introduced herself as she held out her perfectly manicured hand.

Taking the proffered hand, Christine felt a chill go down her spine. "Nice to meet you Ms. Johnson." She replied in a polite tone.

"Oh, Christine dear, you must call me Cara. I mean we have so much in common it would be silly to stand on such trivial formalities." Cara said with a wicked gleam in her bright eyes.

"In common?" Christine knew as soon as the question left her lips that she had just fallen into the older woman's trap.

Cara smiled the smile of a black widow as she pounced upon her prey. "Yes Christine, we both have Erik in common of course. He and I were lovers up until three days ago - about the same time you stole him from me. I guess you could say that you have just recently taken my place in his life."

Christine stiffened in alarm at the boldness of Erik's former mistress. "Oh, well I'm afraid that Erik has not discussed you with me, therefore he must not have deemed you that important." Christine retaliated cleanly. Adopting a thoughtful pose, she continued with her counter attack. "I think you are mistaken in your opinion that we have anything in common Ms. Johnson." She said as she deliberately used the woman's surname. "You see Erik has asked me to be his wife." Christine returned with a satisfied smile. "While you only occupied the position of mistress in his life, I will be his partner in life as well as the mother to his children."

Cara felt her rage leap out of control at the insolence of the little snot; reaching back, she slapped a surprised Christine hard across the cheek, leaving the tell tell sign of a red imprint of her hand. "You Bitch!"

Christine felt the immense sting that Cara's blow inflicted. "I will say this once and only once. If you dare to interfere in my or Erik's life I promise you that you will learn to regret it." She said as she rose from her chair.

Cara laughed at the idle threat of the younger woman. Grabbing Christine by her upper arm to detain her she hissed through her tightly clenched teeth. "You were the one to interfere in my life. So it is you who had better fear me." She said as she dug her nails into Christine's arm.

Utilizing the training she had received in the self-defense class that she and Meg had attended last month she quickly disengaged herself from Cara's grip. "I don't spend my life fearing anyone Ms. Johnson. Especially old discarded mistresses of my fiancé." Turning to adjust her dress in the mirror, she calmly walked to the door only to be stalled by Cara's ominous laugh.

Cara looked at the confident woman and tried to put a thread of doubt in the unflappable Christine's mind. "You would be foolish to turn your back on me Christine. I have a feeling that Erik will soon become bored with your innocent charms. He will come back to me; it is just a matter of time. You see my dear, what I have that you will never have is experience. Experience on how to please a man like Erik." Laughing she turned back to her reflection and made a show of repairing her lipstick. "Lord, I give it a month tops before poor Erik comes running back to my bed out of sheer boredom."

Christine pushed the door a little more forcefully than necessary in an attempt to expel some of her anger. Her eyes were shooting sparks at Erik as she approached him.

Fucking hell! He thought to himself as he saw the livid look on Christine's face. He had seen Cara make a beeline for Christine as soon as she left his side. What was said in their private little chat he could only imagine. "Damn it to hell!" He said under his breath. Holding out her drink, he watched with a small measure of shock as she downed the potent martini in one swallow. "Are you alright?" He questioned her softly.

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm her anger she responded to his ridiculous question. "I'm fine, it's not everyday that one gets to be confronted in the ladies room by one's fiancé's mistress." She said icily.

"Former mistress." Erik said as he watched her face for any revealing signs of her emotions.

"Former, current…I really don't give a damn. But please just do me one little favor. If you could just let them know that I am not a threat to them I would much appreciated it. I could really care less who you sleep with Erik, only please do me the honor of not having to have it thrown up into my face." She said handing him her empty glass as she turned and regally walked in the direction of their balcony.

Erik's lips tightened in anger at the righteous indignation she in all probability had every right to feel. Giving a passing waiter their empty glasses, he turned and followed in the direction of Christine, not at all expecting the second half of their evening to be anything other than long drawn out torturous affair.

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Erik pushed the button to access Christine's elevator. As soon as the doors opened Christine walked briskly on as she turned and wished Erik a cool "Good night."

Enduring her coldness for the past two hours, Erik had just about reached the end of his preverbal rope. "Christine." He said in a warning tone.

Christine felt a small shiver chill her bones at his quiet command. "Fine." She said more bravely than she felt.

Erik followed her onto the elevator and pushed the appropriate button for her apartment. The short ride was met with silence; the only sound was the mechanical hum of the machinery whisking them to the fourteenth floor. Once the doors slid open, Erik gave her an exaggerated bow to let her precede him.

Christine narrowed her eyes at his sarcastic gesture. Lifting her chin in defiance, she quickly exited the elevator. Withdrawing her key, she opened the door and proceeded to turn to block his entrance. "Erik thank you for…" Before she could continue with her rehearsed speech Erik gathered her into his arms and brought his head down to take her lips in a deep kiss that housed not only his anger of the last two hours but also his unleashed passion that he had held for her over the past seven months.

As Erik explored the inner recesses of her mouth with the slow evocative caress of his tongue, Christine felt an intense feeling of desirerace through her body. Whimpering in protest, she tried to push him away. Erik lifted his head to stare down at her passion-filled eyes. "Do you really want me to stop Christine?" He questioned as his body pressed her against the cold metal door, allowing her to feel every muscle in his powerful masculine body.

Christine cursed her traitorous body as she began to tremble in his embrace. "Yes, I want…I want you to sto" her voice trailed off as Erik brought up his finger trace the outline of her kiss swollen lips.

Bending his head, he brought his warm lips to her exposed neck, taking exquisite care to caress each and every inch of her creamy flesh. "You were saying Christine?" He whispered in a husky voice as he let his tongue taste the rapidly beating pulse point behind her delicate ear.

Christine tilted her head back to give him greater access to her sensitive neck. The blood in her veins was on fire in reaction tohis nearness. "I…I…" she moaned in a pleasure that her young body had never before experienced, feeling utterly devastated that it was to be with this man. The man who at his own indefensible whim had turned her world upside down.

Trailing his hot open mouth along her jaw line, Erik once again claimed her lips in a kiss that claimed her as his for all time. Christine gave herself up to the kiss and slid her hands up into his thick black hair. As she let her tongue meet his in a duel as old as time, she for the first time understood the meaning of pure unadulterated lust. For nothing on this earth could stop the force that was baring her very soul to this man at this moment.

Erik was so engrossed in the sweetness of Christine's lips that he failed to hear the door opening across the hall. It wasn't until he heard Christine's neighbor clear his throat that he knew that they had an audience.

"Humm humm, excuse me." Mr. Williams said as he passed the mortified Christine still passionately encased in Erik's arms.

As a blush of shame took up residence on her face, she finally found the strength to push Erik away.

Erik chuckled at her misplaced sense of outrage. Reaching out he caressed the side of her cheek, startled to see the signs of a slight red welt beginning to appear. Frowning he tilted her chin to give him a better view of her injury. "How did this happen?" He demanded in a protective tone.

Christine sighed tiredly. "It's nothing." She said as she retreated from his touch.

Erik felt his body tense at the thought of someone laying a hand upon her. "Who did this Christine?" He questioned her stonily.

"No one. I had a small accident in the bathroom is all. Please don't make a fuss." She said in a dismissive tone.

Erik not at all convinced he decided that he needed to keep a watchful eye out for his independent fiancé. Seeing that she appeared to be exhausted he relented and let her go. "I will call you tomorrow." He said in such a soft caring voice that Christine looked up sharply into his eyes.

"Ok" she said softly as she turned and closed the door, not seeing the look of intense longing that Erik allowed to grace his half-masked face for a short moment before he turned and walked away from the only woman he would ever loved.

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A/N Ohh man, is this Christine feisty or what? This is for all of you that wanted a strong Christine instead of the weaker one in Broken Sparrow. I am going to have to stop promising what I will put in the next chapter. They always seem to not go where I plan lately. Oh well, but I really will have our poor Raoul in the next one. Promise. Please let me know what you think in the reviews. Thanks!