Warning: Rated M for explicit content. Reader's discretion advised.

- Let go of me! - Esmeralda yelled, while desperately trying to release herself from Gérard Lefebvre's iron grip.

The Captain of the guard had grabbed her arm and was dragging her across the hallway, headed towards Gaspard's chamber.

- You have no right! - the gypsy insisted furiously, but the man seemed deaf to her pleads. He wasn't even looking at her, he just pulled from her arm like she was a stubborn mule that needed to be set straight.

He opened Gaspard's door with a kick from his foot, startling the drunk Minister who was already in his bed.

- What's going on!?- Gaspard demanded to know, unconsciously covering his body with the blankets in an attempt to protect himself.

- I found her wandering the halls. - Gérard explained plainly.

Once his heartbeat returned to his normal rhythm, Gaspard was able to think more clearly, at least as much as the alcohol allowed him to. He got up from the bed and got closer to the couple. Esmeralda was still struggling to release her arm, which by now she was sure would be bruised for a few days.

- Let go, brother. - he ordered, and Gérard obeyed.

Esmeralda jumped away from him, throwing the Captain a hateful look.

- I didn't know I was a prisoner at my own home! - she accused, turning her flaring gaze to Gaspard.

- Of course you're not, my dear. - he replied in a soothing tone. - But your safety is my first concern. You shouldn't be roaming alone at night, we don't want you getting hurt, do we?

- Oh, you mean hurt like this? - she said, rolling up her sleeve to show him her reddened skin.

- My brother here is used to dealing with soldiers. He must learn to restrain his strength if dealing with women. - the Minister said, with an apologetic tone.

Esmeralda snorted with indignation, still rubbing her sore arm.

- Soldier or woman – Gérard suddenly intervened - I recognize a suspicious behavior when I see one.

- And what exactly am I a suspect for? - Esmeralda inquired.

- That's for you to answer. - Gérard answered coldly, looking at her for the first time, his blue icy eyes piercing hers. - Where were you going in the middle of the night?

Esmeralda thought fast.

- I was going to see Djali.

- Djali? - Gaspard repeated, confused.

- He is my pet goat. He lives at the stables. - she explained.

- I've never seen a goat at the stables. - Gérard said, skeptical.

- Well, you just got here. - Esmeralda replied harshly. - Besides, he doesn't like soldiers. And neither do I. - she added, with a scoffing tone.

Gérard seemed imperturbable to any kind of insult. He remained calm and cold.

Gaspard looked absent, as if his inebriated brain was working hard to process the information. After a few seconds of silence, he finally spoke.

- Brother, you can leave us now. Thank you for your concern, but your services won't be needed anymore tonight. I got it from here. Go to bed. - he sounded gentle but firm. However, there was something about his tone that felt menacing. Dangerous.

The Captain nodded once, and without a word, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

- You must forgive his manners. He means well. - Gaspard said in a pacifying tone.

- Sure. - Esmeralda spat sarcastically. - I'm gonna go to bed too, I've had enough for tonight.- she said, turning around to leave.

- Wait. - Gaspard called her, and though it was a single word, the threat on it was so palpable that her feet were stopped on their tracks.

She turned around to face him, and she could see in his eyes that he was again dropping his act.

- What. - she asked, tense.

- Let's imagine for a moment… - he began, softly, as he walked towards her. - that I were to ask you for an introduction.

- What? - she repeated, puzzled.

- I've never met this Djali of yours. What if I decided to come with you on your visit?

She sighed, exasperated.

- I'm telling you, Djali is real. If you don't believe me, you're welcome to come with me to the stables anytime and see for yourself, you will find him there.

- Of course, my love, but let's say it's not anytime, but right now. - he explained, getting closer. He could see Esmeralda's body stiffening involuntarily. - I'm sure we would find him there, as you say… but would he be the only one we'd find?

- I don't know what you mean. - she said, trying to sound calm.

- Oh, I'm sure you do. - Gaspard replied, shaking his head.

She stared at him silently. Was he just bluffing? Or did he actually know something? Her heart stopped in her chest when she saw him walking pass her and towards the door. If he caught Frollo waiting in the stables, Gaspard would probably go to the King with his secret. What were the chances that Frollo had already gave up on waiting? Was she willing to take the risk?

- Wait! - she called, as Gaspard's hand reached for the door knob.

She didn't say anything else, but it wasn't necessary. She had just confirmed his suspicions.

- Well, well… - Gaspard said, in a disappointed tone. His hand went down from the knob to the key, and he locked the door, putting the key on his pocket.

Esmeralda felt as if the air in the room had just become solid. She was paralyzed and unable to breathe as the Minister got closer to her again.

- I must say, I'm dissapointed. I thought you were finally opening up to me. - he stated, still shaking his head.

She just stared at him, unable to articulate a single word. She scolded herself, urging her mind to come up with a new strategy, a way out.

- However… I admit, it's kind of a relief as well.

- A relief? - she repeated, baffled.

- Yes. - Gaspard nodded, standing right in front of her. - I promised that I would respect you as long as you respected me too. But, between us, I was getting tired of that promise.

His hungry, predatory tone made all her instincts fire their alarms. She needed to get out. Now.

- And then look at you… Sneaking around in the middle of the night with a man who is not your husband-to-be… And then lying about it! You don't seem at all concerned with the purity of your soul… so why would I? - he concluded, with a terrifying smile of triumph.

- Please. - she begged with a strangled voice, taking a step back. - Please, don't do this.

But Gaspard moved fast. He grabbed her arm, and his other hand reached for the hair at the back of her head, so she wouldn't be able to move. Esmeralda yelled in pain, her knees weakening, though the pull from Lefebvre's hands kept her standing.

- Don't waste your energy resisting. - he scolded her coldly. - You knew this would come eventually.

She tried to kick his shinbone, but the man turned out to be surprisingly immune to pain. For a second, she paused to consider if it was due to having shared a childhood with his cruel older brother, and what kind of abuse he might have had to endure. But this compassionate thought only lasted until the next hair pull from Lefebvre's hand, which made her eyes fill with tears.

- Bastard! - she insulted him, using her free arm to try to scratch his face, but he kept her in such position that she couldn't reach his skin, and only teared his night clothes.

The strong Minister dragged her across the room towards the bed. Once they were there, he pushed her to fall on her back. For a second she was free, so she turned in the bed as quickly as she could, trying to get away, grabbing a pillow to hit him.

But if her kicks weren't a problem for him, the pillow hits were simply a joke. He laughed cruelly at her desperate attempts, and climbed to the bed as well, grabbing her ankle and pulling her closer again.

Esmeralda kept yelling insults, hoping desperately that a servant would hear her, but then she realized something. The problem wasn't that they couldn't hear her. The problem was they weren't coming. Once they realized the yelling came from their master's room, they wouldn't dare to go in. And even if they did, even if some female servant took pity on her, or some honorable soldier decided to intervene… the door was locked.

The weight of this realization fell upon her, leaving her suddenly numb and silent. Her change was so sudden, that Gaspard stopped for a second too, wondering if she had passed out. But her open emerald eyes looked right at his, and the deep, powerless sadness in them made him shiver inside.

But no. He had waited long enough. He couldn't be weak now. If he wanted to be the Minister of Justice, if he wanted to be respected, if he wanted to live up to the life he had finally achieved... he couldn't be so easily manipulated by a woman's tears. She was his. And he needed to prove himself that he was able to take her.

So he grabbed her chin and forced her to look away, so he wouldn't have to deal with the guilt of looking into her eyes. Esmeralda realized what he intended, and something inside her decided that if she was to go down either way, she would go down fighting. So she moved her head and bit the hand holding her chin.

Gaspard screamed in pain, while Esmeralda's teeth still tried to tear away his flesh. She was like a rabid animal, and when he finally managed to release his hand from the trap of her mouth, he left behind a trail of blood. The sight of her laying in bed under him, her face splattered with his blood, turned him on for some reason. Though he was furious for the pain she had caused him, he also loved a good fight.

Esmeralda felt the growth between his legs, hardening by the second, and she became hysterical. She tried to escape but Gaspard pressed his hips against hers, nailing her to her position. At this point he was holding both her wrists on her sides, but she knew he would have to move at least one of his hands to get rid of his clothes and release his manhood. That would be her only chance.

Gaspard sunk his face on her neck, his humid hot breath smelled of alcohol. She felt it on her skin, as he whispered into her ear:

- I'll teach you manners, gypsy scum. - he let out a loud grunt as he pronounced his insult.

She tried to turn and bite his face again, but then she noticed that his hands were loosening their grip. Just when she was about to move, he laid the whole weight of his body upon her, leaving her completely immobilized. As much as she tried, he was too heavy to escape the pressure of his body against hers.

He stood still in that position for a moment, as if he was suddenly sound asleep.

Esmeralda felt something warm and wet sliding down her neck. Was he drooling on her? She felt repulsed, and again tried to move away, but she was trapped under his weight. The man was doing no effort whatsoever to hold himself up.

But then, the warm liquid on her neck became too copious to be just drool. What was he doing? she wondered, equally terrified and disgusted.

Suddenly, Gaspard moved again. But he did so in the strangest of ways. His whole body raised from hers, but she could still feel his loosened arms on her sides. And then, he fell by her side on the bed.

Esmeralda looked at him, intrigued. His eyes were open in her direction, but he wasn't looking at her. She noticed the blood in his lips, and then looked at herself. Her whole neck and left shoulder were soaked in blood as well. That's what she had felt sliding down her skin.

She looked at him again, absolutely puzzled. And then, she noticed there was another stain of blood, growing fast in Gaspard's chest. She looked at his face again, and understood. Lefebvre was dead.

Her gaze raised from the Minister's corpse to the figure standing in the darkness of the room right by the bed.

There, holding a sharp dagger covered in Lefebvre's blood, was Judge Claude Frollo.