Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.
Chapter Content & Trigger Warnings: None this chapter

Chapter 29

Ella stood backstage in her dressing room at the Hilton, trying to get ready for her next show—yet failing miserably thanks to one Viktor Dankevych.

She'd graduated three months prior and at her final performance, an entertainment director from the Hilton was present and was instantly interested in recruiting her to join the hotel's staff. She started immediately after graduating and quickly fell in love with the job. She sang five days or nights a week, and could sing virtually whatever she wanted—be it opera or contemporary music. Miracle was even allowed to sit in the audience during her night performances—which was partly why she needed Viktor to leave. At nearly eleven years old, Miracle was mature and responsible enough to start staying home alone, but Ella wanted to be around her as much as possible.

Of course I just had to let slip that I had to pick Miracle up from school a while back, Ella thought, scolding herself for her own negligence. She whipped a curler out of her hair in her frustration.

Viktor had dropped by her house unexpectedly a month before when Ella was about to leave to pick her daughter up from school, which led to her accidentally mentioning Miracle.

And ever since, the Ukrainian had become intrigued by the surprising news of Ella's daughter. At first he'd hinted heavily at meeting the girl, and then moved on to actually asking to meet her. But over the past few days, he'd graduated onto arguing with Ella about meeting her.

Ella had grown so frustrated she didn't know what to do—other than to keep refusing him. The way he acted was a huge red flag and it made her very antsy.

Due to his sudden and strange interest in Miracle, she'd been unable to have her daughter at her shows. The young girl was growing more and more upset and had even argued with Ella about the man.

"Please, Mom," Miracle had cried loudly. "Tell the jerk to buzz off! You're my mother! I have the right to be with you, and he's trying to take over your life!" The girl had run upstairs to her room then, sobbing in anger and frustration.

"What is so wrong with me wanting to meet your daughter? You haven't even told me how old she is!"

Viktor's persistent words snapped Ella back to the current conversation.

"Viktor! That's enough!" She finally lost her temper with him. She slammed a curler down on her vanity and spun around to face him. "I've had it. You are not meeting her."

We have no ties, she thought. Just because we had the mere beginnings of a friendship, doesn't mean I have to share every detail of my life with him, she thought irritably.

"I have the right to privacy, Viktor," she continued, and pulled another roller from her hair. "I don't have to answer to you. I have the right to protect my daughter. And the way you keep trying to push me into letting you meet her, really concerns me." Out came the last roller. "We're done here. I don't want to see you anymore, Viktor. Something isn't right, and I have to protect my daughter and myself. Please leave, and don't come back here."

She turned her back on him and began her makeup, assuming he would finally take the hint.

Wrong.

She felt his hand take hold of her arm and attempt to turn her around to face him. "Listen, Claire, I don't think you understand-"

Ella's palm collided with his cheek and halted his words.

"Take your hands off me! Don't you ever touch me again! Get OUT of here!"

Ella realized she might feel badly later on but at that moment, she was only concerned with getting Viktor out of her life. She'd tried to be a friend to him, she really had. But he just kept making her feel strange. He was always around her. He seemed to always know when she'd be home or where she was eating out. He'd even become possessive of her and attempted to subtly control her. He was an odd man and had become quite obsessive where she was concerned. The very idea of subjecting her daughter to him was the straw that broke the camel's back.

One of the Hilton's security guards knocked on her door and opened it a crack. "Is everything okay, Ms. Jones?"

"No, it's not, Peter," Ella said, reaching over and opening her door completely. "Please escort Mr. Dankevych out of here and don't allow him to enter my dressing room ever again."

"Claire," Viktor started, pleading in his eyes.

"Mr. Dankevych, this way, please," Peter spoke quietly, but with authority. "As Ms. Jones just requested—do not return to her dressing room. And I am informing you to not set foot in the entertainment wing of the hotel ever again as well."

Viktor's face flushed a deep pink that progressed into a full-fledged shade of crimson. "Fine," he said softly. "Perhaps it's for the best. If you can't share important pieces of your life with me, then it's not a friendship to begin with."

"Now you're getting it," Ella said sarcastically, unable to control her sharp tongue by that point. Her daughter was one area of her life she would not gamble with. "The door is that way," she said, pointing her finger at her dressing room doorway.

"Good riddance," Viktor said, acid in his tone. Then with a harsh glare, he spun on his heel and left the room.

Ella turned to the security guard. "Thank you, Peter. Thank you so much." Her adrenaline rush was leaving quickly, so she sat down in her chair.

Peter gave her a kind nod. "I'll make sure he does leave and that he stays away from here. And I'll set up for you to be escorted to your car for a while till we can be sure he won't try anything stupid."

"Thank you again," she said as Peter turned and left the room to catch up with Viktor. She turned back to her vanity then and finished applying her makeup, struggling all the while with a shaky hand.

About twenty minutes later, she was ready and walking on to the stage, smiling at the explosive applause she received and waving to the audience.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Joe was slowly returning to his old self. He was still moody from time to time, but he always had a tendency to be that way. He found himself able to smile once in a while, and he actually started hanging out with his old friends after the shows each night. He'd also given up alcohol for good.

His friends noticed the difference. AJ in particular was glad his once close friend was changing back into the old Joe. Even though the words weren't spoken, he felt as though Joe had forgiven him for his failure in protecting Ella years before.

Most of the roster had opted to hit a bowling alley after their house show in Sacramento that evening, rather than a nightclub. Many of them tried to find ways for Joe to hang out with them without a huge temptation of alcohol. They liked the fact that the old Joe was back, and they wanted him to stay.

Joe laughed as he watched Sabin walk forward to the bowling lane, swinging the ball back in his hand. He lost his grip and the ball went flying backward toward the roster.

"Oh, crap," screamed Madison as she jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding the heavy ball. "Sabin, if you can't hold onto your balls, then quit-" She cut off as she heard numerous snickers all around her. "I swear! How old are you guys," she demanded, sitting down in her seat. Her face was flaming red from her choice of words.

Sabin sheepishly grabbed up the bowling ball, and headed back toward the lane. "Oh, shut up," he said embarrassedly. "That probably happens all the time."

"Yeah—to you," Joe chuckled under his breath.

"You gotta love him," Christy laughed, sitting down next to Joe. She smiled softly at him and touched his arm. "I'm glad to see you've started hanging out with us again."

Joe could sense the flirtation in her words and actions. He didn't know what to do about it either. It was one thing to use the women he'd used and then send them on their way. Hurting Christy was another. But he knew he held no feelings for her. He'd never get over Ella. Ever.

He pretended to re-tie his shoelace so he could remove his arm from her caress.

"I'm glad too," he said softly. "I feel a lot better. My head's in a better place." He tried to choose his words carefully, keeping them kind but not flirty.

"Joe…" Christy started, "I… I have to let you know that I'm really sorry about Ella." She hurried along with her speech as she saw Joe attempt to speak up. "I know you loved her—love her. And if… If you ever need to talk… I'm here for you. I never… I never stopped caring about you. And I'm not pressuring you at all, but if you can ever learn to love again… I hope you'll consider me." Wiping an unexpected tear from her cheek, she stood and hurried away to the ladies room.

Wow, Joe thought, shaking his head. Could life get any more complicated for me?

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Viktor Dankevych drove to his large home in dead silence, speeding the whole way.

How dare she treat me in such a way, he roared in his mind. No one talks to me that way and gets away with it!

Pounding his steering wheel with his fist, he shouted in anger. Spotting the turn for his circular driveway, he spun the wheel to the left. The Cadillac Escalade swerved across the left lane of the street and flew into his paved drive. He stomped the break, causing the tires to screech in protest against the concrete. Killing the engine, Viktor climbed out of the vehicle and stalked into his home, throwing his keys onto the hallway table.

"I tried to be nice, and she just wouldn't cooperate," he growled to himself as he stomped up the stairs to his bedroom. He yanked his tie off and tossed it to the floor, too angry to care where he was tossing his things. "Well, we'll see how she responds to a tragic fate for her precious daughter," he continued ranting, and glanced in the mirror on his dresser. He paused and then began ripping his dress shirt off, not bothering to unbutton the garment. He turned to the side and eyed the abdominal augmentation he'd had done a year before. He'd been fairly thin and wanted a drastically different appearance so he'd concentrated on surgery and weight-lifting to bulk himself up. Eyeing his muscular arms, and the overall drastic changes his body had gone through, he turned his attention to his face. His surgically-altered nose was just what he'd needed. It looked nothing like his old nose, which had been perfect and straight—a dead giveaway to his real identity. He noticed his hair color was fading. He would need to dye it again in the next day or two. Staring at his reflection, he smiled at how he'd fooled Claire Jones for the past several months.

"Or should I say Ella Seanoa," he thought out loud with a sinister chuckle.

His grin widened as he pulled out his brown contact lenses, revealing the natural color of his irises.

Ice-blue.

I'll take my sweet time, and I WILL get Ella, Fournier thought to himself. I'll need to wait plenty of time so she grows secure and thinks I'm not a threat. I don't want her to run again… It took me too long to find her the first time. He smiled at his reflection again. After all, I've waited ten years. What's another one or two? Then Ella will wish she'd never run from me in the first place. He grew angry again when he thought of Ella's and Joe Seanoa's daughter. She was supposed to give me a child, not him. She needs a lessonanother lesson in loss. And I think the tragic death of her daughter will accomplish just that.