Title: The Devil We Know

Summary: Christine Daae is the daughter of a recently deceased mafia boss. Suddenly, she finds herself toted as an up and coming gang leader, learning from the Phantom, a man who is feared by even the most powerful in the field as a notorious hit man. Will Christine find the strength to carve her own path, disregarding both darkness and light? Raoul's in it too. I guess.

Disclaimer: Phantom isn't copywritten any more, is it? I don't know. But the book belongs to Leroux and the musical belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Regardless, Erik, Christine, and Raoul aren't my original characters.

Author's Note: After much deliberation and a particularly interesting review from Nyasia A. Maire, I got a direction! So thanks for all the inspirational reviews everybody! Also, since final projects are fast approaching, my updates might be spaced out until summer break. I only have four weeks left of school until I'm free! For a little while, anyway…

Chapter Nine: Luck of the Draw

Christine, Nadir, and Meg were seated at the bar counter down in the main portion of the club the next afternoon playing cards to pass the time until opening. When a man in a black and white pinstripe suit and black Fedora walked through the entrance, Meg waved at him and said without glancing at him, "Club's not open yet. Come back in a few hours and I'll show you a good time."

"Tempting, but no. I'm looking for Miss Christine Annabelle Daae."

Nadir looked up from his hand to scrutinize the newcomer only to grin widely and throw his cards face-down. "Jonesy! You bastard! What're you doing in town?"

While Nadir was distracted by the man, Christine reached over to peek at his hand of cards. Meg smirked and nodded at her.

"Business, Persian, always business."

"You work too much," Nadir laughed, patting him on the back a little too hard. The skinnier, smaller man grimaced with the action and stood up straighter.

"Some of us can't whore out our muscles, so we have to make money the old-fashioned way," Jonesy turned his attention to Christine, who was peering at Nadir's discarded hand sneakily. He held his palm out to her in greeting. "Miss Daae, my name is-"

"BARTLEBY JONES!" Erik's voice boomed throughout the room. He was returning from the bathroom, having been thrown out of the card game for a suspiciously long winning streak. The yell surprised Christine and she dropped her ill-gotten hand of cards scattering them across the counter. "Why is he here? Did someone get hurt? Is he ambulance chasing again?"

"Hey," Jonesy grumbled, gripping his briefcase defensively. "I haven't done that in a long time. I'm here on legitimate business for Miss Daae."

"Is that your real name?" Christine reached out to accept his hand. "Wasn't that a song?"

"Yes… well," Jonesy shook her hand then stepped back, fixing his green tie. "I don't give out my real name when I'm handling mafia jobs."

"A bonafide mafia lawyer," she mused, nudging a card with her finger. "You guys have your own little community going. Doctors, lawyers, what's next? Mafia real estate agents?"

"Your parents did own quite a bit of property, Miss Daae. Which is one of the reasons I'm here," he sat down at a bar stool next to her and set the briefcase on the counter. He pressed the buttons and it clicked open. Inside was a thin, blue folder. "Gustav and Elizabeth Daae's joint will. I flew all the way from New York to handle this personally."

He handed her the folder and she opened it to reveal a series of typed, orderly papers complete with signatures at the bottom. The sheer amount of words, all typed in size 10 font, was overwhelming. She sighed, rubbed her eyes, and began to slug through the sea of text.

"Not a reader, huh?" Jonesy chuckled. "That's fine, I'll give you the fast and easy version and you can skim through the fine print as it suits you. You must have noticed after your mother's death that there were no official inheritance procedures to divvy up her belongings. That was because your parents chose to have a joint will, where you would inherit all their worldly belongings once they were both deceased. Since your father was still alive until a few weeks ago, your livelihood came through his kindness."

Talking about her father's death brought tears to her eyes and she stubbornly fought to control herself. No matter how much she insisted he was a bad man, she couldn't hate him. He was a good father and loved her deeply in his own way. He honestly believed he was doing her a favor by keeping her oblivious to the world she came from.

"As for just how much you are inheriting… my sources tell me you were unaware of what your parents' did for a living until just recently."

"I know now, but it's still sort of hazy. I guess, financially, they'd be on the scale of Carlotta, right?"

A choked, surprise laugh escaped from Meg's direction and she quickly covered her mouth. Christine glanced at her in confusion, while Jonesy sighed. "Carlotta… I'm assuming you're talking about one of the area bosses? Yes, well, Carlotta's total holdings amount to about…" He paused to calculate the numbers in his head before continuing, "15 of your parents' joint wealth. Rough estimate, you understand."

"But… Carlotta owns a casino. And a hotel. Surely that makes good money." Christine stated, brain unable to wrap around the idea of being the richest woman in the state.

"I'm sure she doesn't want for anything, her businesses take care of her quite comfortably," Jonesy assured Christine with a smile that reminded her of a shark. "You, however, are in a completely different income bracket."

Leaving Christine to gape dumbly at him, he fished around in his pocket until he removed a ring of keys and held them out to her. "Okay, so, I color coded the keys. There are ten of them and each one has a different colored dot. In the will, you'll find the color code that tells you the location of your homes and buildings…"

"Homes? Plural?"

"Right. There's the home here, which I would advise you to sell since someone," he pointed glanced at Erik, "decided to shoot a man in the living room. Cut all connections with the home and make some more money. You could buy a new one someone nearby on that alone. Three even."

"You just broke my brain," Christine said, lip quirked and one eyebrow furrowed in an expression of complete bewilderment. "Don't I have to stay at Madame Giry's?"

"Hey, I'm just saying, if I had a choice between my own luxury home and a tiny, shared bedroom above a nightclub, I'd obviously choose the nice house. But that's me. Apparently, I make too much sense for this lifestyle."

Nadir leaned forward and offered, "You gonna tell her about the base?"

"What base?" Christine latched onto his words with renewed energy.

"You've seen the skyscraper in the middle of downtown?"

"Of course. It's the only building in town that big."

"Yellow."

"What?" Christine asked, her shaky grasp of the conversation lost once again.

He pointed to the keys in her hands. "The yellow one gets you into your penthouse office at the top floor. The whole building's yours. More precisely, it's the headquarters of G.D. Enterprises, named after your father. I believe your parents' henchmen have continued working in preparation for your arrival since your father's death."

"They sent me as a representative to watch over you until you found out," Nadir stated helpfully.

"So, as you can see, your parents left you with a world of options. If you're feeling up to it, I can escort you to the office now, since it's just a few blocks away." Jonesy stood up and shut the briefcase. He took in her current appearance: faded, comfortable jeans and a loose T-shirt, before saying, "Perhaps you have something more formal to wear? You'll want to make a good first impression with your subordinates."

Christine swung wide, pathetic eyes to Erik, who looked slightly alarmed that she had turned to him for help. He quickly regained his composure and offered her his hand. "Yes, well, come on."

They went to her room and he pulled out the duffel bag from under the bed, rifling through its contents. "Don't you own a business suit? Or a skirt and blazer outfit?"

Christine shook her head as she rummaged through the closet she shared with Meg. "No, I never really needed one before. I mean, I was studying art at the state college, so it's not like I ever had to dress up for a presentation."

"Art," he muttered under his breath. "I can't believe your father. How is art supposed to help you run a global conglomerate?"

"A what in the what now?" Christine threw a pointed glare over her shoulder at the masked man searching under her bed for loose clothing. "Don't start with me, Erik. I'm not in a good mood."

"I don't see why not. You just inherited more money than I've ever seen in my life."

"Well, then, it must be a lot, since you're the oldest guy I know." Christine crossed her arms, realizing there was nothing helpful in the closet. Her voice was shaking from anger and confusion. Erik crossed the room quietly and slipped his arms around her from behind.

"You're doing fine, Christine," he murmured into her ear, leaning over to rest his chin on her shoulder. "Just breathe."

"But I don't have anything to wear besides… hooker dresses!" She sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

"We'll get you a suit on the way. Don't cry," he rocked gently from side to side with his arms around her, trying to comfort her.

"It's too much, Erik." She gripped his sleeves with her arms crossed in front of her chest. "I don't know if I can do it alone. You're right; I'm not prepared for this."

"Don't worry about that. I'm a grouchy old man, remember? Probably senile too. Don't know what I'm talking about half the time." He said jokingly, surprising a laugh out of her.

"Cradle robber," she added in a watery laugh. He dropped his arms and stepped back.

"Yes, yes. Make fun of the remorseless killer." he sighed, rummaging in his pockets for handkerchief. He found one and pressed it into her hands. "Make yourself presentable, woman. I'll tell the others we'll meet them at the office."

"Why?"

"I can't let the heiress to a multinational corporation make her debut in jeans. You have a reputation to uphold."

Ignoring Nadir's insistence that he accompany Erik and Christine to the upscale women's clothing shop, they parted ways to find something nice and businesslike for Christine to wear. When they met drove to the building forty minutes later, Christine was confidently wearing her new, burgundy business skirt set. She had wanted a plain, black suit, but once Erik saw the deep red skirt, it was game over. He had gazed at her longingly and then peered over at the mannequin dressed in the outfit, as if trying to imagine her wearing it.

As they walked through the revolving glass doors, Christine asked Erik quietly, "So. Red's your favorite color then? Most of your ties are this color."

She glanced over at him to make sure and smiled. "We match."

He looked away, not saying anything. If it were possible, she would have sworn he was embarrassed. Nadir was standing at the front desk talking to the female receptionist who was blushing and grinning in reply. Jonesy waved them over. The receptionist glanced at the new arrivals and leapt to her feet as if shocked. "Miss Daae!"

"Hello and you are?" Christine smiled at the woman, easily ten years older than her. The receptionist smoothed her suit and leaned forward to shake hands with Christine.

"O-oh, my name's Monika Morrison, I'm the receptionist," she fumbled over her words before blushing again. "But that's obvious. Welcome to Gustav Daae Enterprises, Miss Daae. Nadir knows the way to the elevator and-"

Monika's gaze rested on the tall, masked man behind Christine for the first time. Her face visibly paled and she clamped her lips tightly shut. Erik's reputation preceded him. Christine followed the woman's frightened gaze and found Erik staring at her expressionlessly. A mouse eyed by a well-fed snake.

"He's a looker, isn't he?" Christine asked, wrapping her arm through Erik's as she nodded to the receptionist. "See you, Monika. Let's go, boys."

As soon as they were out of the receptionist's sight, Christine patted Erik's arm and let him go. The elevator loomed into view, a majestic machine of spotless steel and glass. "Wow, look at that. How high does this building go?"

They piled into the elevator and Jonesy leaned over to press the button next to the number 41. "The building is approximately 450 feet tall. There are 41 floors total, your office takes up the entire 41st floor."

Christine pressed her hands against a glass-wall and watched as the floors sped by one after the next. She hurried to the exterior wall and saw the sidewalk fall away as the elevator climbed toward the top of the skyscraper. "That's amazing."

"Each floor is an entire department dedicated to various aspects of the company. Since G. D. Enterprises deals in both legal and illegal transactions, about half of your employees are Mafioso." Jonesy stated, not bothering to glance out the glass. "Needless to say, half is enough. Your men outnumber every other crime syndicate in the state."

A chime announced their arrival on the 41st floor and Nadir stepped out into the hallway leading to a pair of ornately carved double doors. They waited for Christine to unlock the doors with her key. She opened the door and peered inside.

The office was spacious, with a large, rounded rectangular conference table in the middle of a dark blue carpet, dark wood walls and a giant, flat panel display screen capable of descending from the ceiling. Passed the conference table was a beautiful, shiny desk and a black leather swivel chair that put even Erik's awesome villain's chair to shame.

Christine wandered to the window that took up a good portion of one wall, overlooking the entire city. Expensive art work decorated each wall in the room and Christine noticed one of her own paintings on the wall behind the desk. It was a self-portrait she had painted for a final project in one of her art classes years prior. Needless to say, it wasn't her best piece and it both humiliated and pleased her that her father would hang it in a place of honor. "Yeah, that's coming down as soon as possible."

Erik gazed at it with a smile on his face. "Good to know those art classes aren't going to waste."

"Aw, don't take it down," Nadir said as Christine reached up to grab the frame. "Your dad loved looking at that. It always made him smile."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult," Christine grumbled under her breath, but left the painting up for the moment. She turned to survey the room once more and her eyes rested on the sleek, black desk. It gleamed under the florescent lights. She couldn't look away from its smooth, elegant surface. Slapping her hand down on the desktop, she announced, "See this desk? I'm gonna have sex on this nice, big desk."

They all stared at her as if she were insane. Nadir burst out laughing and Jonesy shook his head, "Lady, it's yours. Have sex TWICE on it for all I care."

Erik walked over to examine the desk, hesitantly touching the glossy surface. "Uh, so. This is a really nice-looking desk… apparently good... to do things on."

Jonesy eyed him as if he were insane before replying, "So I'm led to believe."

"Oh, poor, sad Erik! Some hot, young girl wants to have sex with you on a desk. Such misery," Nadir gasped between bouts of laughter. "I don't know how you survive this horrible life you live."

Christine grinned at Nadir and then locked eyes with Erik. "I'm not picky. I'll take the floor if the desk makes you uncomfortable."

"Yes, well." Erik realized that Nadir and Christine were about to gang up on him and took that as his cue to take a walk. He strode out of the room to hide his frustration and awkwardness. The door shut loudly behind him.

Turning to Nadir, Christine held her hands palm up in confusion as she climbed onto the desk to sit. "Seriously, why'd he leave? I'm not joking."

Nadir shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Who knows? He's a crazy man. A very deadly, crazy man."

"On that note," Jonesy glanced at his watch and then fixed his suit jacket. "I'll be going. My number is in the paperwork, so if you have any questions you know how to get a hold of me."

Jonesy opened the door to leave and found Erik standing in the hallway with his arms crossed. Nadir nodded to Christine before walking toward the elevator with the lawyer. "I'm gonna go catch up with Monika. It's been so long since I got to see her cute little face."

Erik reentered the office when the other two left, shutting the door behind him. His eyes rested on her and she smiled at him from her seat on the desktop. "Hey. This desk really is awesome. Come try it out."

He joined her across the room and sat next to her on the desk, his legs dangling over the edge. She reached out to take intertwine their fingers and said, "So. I guess I'm a mafia boss now. How about that?"

There was a slight tremble in her hand and he held it firmly in his. He stood up and faced her as she peered up at him from her seat on the desk. Placing his free hand on her cheek while still holding her hand in his, he whispered, "I'm proud of you. You're facing the truth."

She reached up to hook her finger around the knot of his tie, yanking him down until their lips were only centimeters apart. There was a tiny pause as she waited in anticipation for him to take control of the heat swirling between them, to give it shape and direction. He caught her lips with his, a surge of blood as their hearts pounded in unison, her tongue dipping into his mouth in reply.

Her sweet, exploring kiss sent an urgent thrill coursing through his body and he yielded to the passion he had suppressed for so long. The need to close the short distance between them was a physical ache. It taunted him and he stepped forward, nudging her knees apart and pressing their chests flush against each other. She eagerly scooted forward to the edge of the desk, his hips the only thing keeping her from falling off.

He pried his hand free from hers, lips trailing light kisses along her upturned face as he leaned one hand on the desk for balance. He grabbed her knee and inched his way up the length of her thigh. His hand hesitated at the hem of her skirt, ghosting under the fabric as he reveled in the excited gasps escaping Christine's lips between kisses. She was warm and pliant under his hand, waiting on edge for his next move…

"Erik…" she moaned against his lips, peering up at him through hooded eyelids. Her body trembled, back arched toward him slightly in expectation.

He froze, his hand gripping her upper thigh and not moving as he stared down at her flushed face.

Blinking through the haze of excitement, Christine watched in utter amazement as Erik threw his hand up in the air. When he stepped back, a look of panic on his face, Christine teetered precariously on the edge of the desk, her support suddenly gone. "Wah!"

He grabbed her by the shoulders, steadied her on the desk, and then threw his arms around her in a hasty embrace. Without warning, he escaped from the office, leaving Christine frustrated and completely unfulfilled. Her outraged yell followed him as he rushed down the hall way, "You tease!"

Erik left her in the office and quickly rode the elevator down to the first floor where Nadir was still flirting with the receptionist. When Erik strode into the lobby without Christine, his hair messed up and tie askew, Nadir knew something was amiss. With a quick apology to the receptionist, he motioned for Erik to follow him to an abandoned corner of the lobby. "So. Where's the little Boss?"

After a moment of brooding silence, the effect of which was marred by his frazzled appearance, Erik grumbled, "Nadir, I'm going to ask you a question and if you laugh I'll shoot you in your goddamned foot SO FAST you won't know what happened until the ambulance arrives."

Nadir wisely decided to keep his face free of any form of amusement as he nodded gravely. Erik waited a moment to make sure he wasn't going to bust up into bouts of laughter before saying in a completely serious tone, "How do you please a woman? Sexually, I mean."

"SWEET JESUS, ERIK! How can you say that shit with a straight face?" Nadir asked in a high-pitched whisper as he looked around to make sure there were no witnesses.

Erik remained completely serious, his eyes narrowed on Nadir. "I'm not joking. I've never had sex before and you obviously dabble in that area often. If you wanted to know how to kill a man five times before he hit the ground, I'd help you out."

"Okay, okay, geez," sighing heavily at the moody man glaring him down, Nadir scrubbed a hand over his bald scalp. "This right here is why you should have invested in a couple of hookers years ago. Now listen, I'm going to give you the quick and easy rundown of the female anatomy-"

"I know their anatomy!" Erik hissed defensively. "I know what goes where, I just don't know how to… I don't know…"

"Make it feel good?"

"Yes! Well, no. It would feel good for me regardless."

"God damn, Erik, then you obviously DON'T know female anatomy! Listen up, because I'm not going to repeat myself."

Erik listened intently with a look of wonder on his face as Nadir explained the ins and outs of making a girl happy. Sexually.

On the ride back to Madame Giry's, Christine noticed Erik was abnormally quiet and slightly spacey. She wondered if he was upset about their make-out session in the office and finally blurted, "I'm sorry if I put too much pressure on you. I don't care if you don't want to have sex on the desk. I was mostly joking anyway."

He glanced at her, a glassy look in his eyes before snapping back to attention. "It's fine. Don't worry about that."

"Oh," she didn't know whether to be hurt or relieved that he wasn't dwelling on the incident. She certainly was, she thought with a frustrated frown.

"We need to think of our next move," Erik said once they lapsed into uncomfortable silence again. "In particular, you have to decide whether or not you want in on this. If not, you'll need to make your separation from the mafia world clear. You might even have to downsize your staff, since half of them are Mafioso and working in strictly illegal areas."

Christine sighed and glanced out the window at the sun setting over the dark cityscape on the horizon. "That would put people out of their jobs. Besides, if I bow out, someone else will just take over. When I think of a coldhearted criminal assuming control of the city, it irritates me. At least I know I'm fair most of the time."

"What are you saying, Christine? If you're making a decision then you need to come right out and say it." Erik maneuvered the car around traffic, heedless of the angry drivers honking at his crazy driving.

Turning to face him in her seat, she said without flinching, "I'm going to rule over this whole city, Erik. And I'm going to be the greatest mafia boss ever. Better than my mom and dad. Head and shoulders above Carlotta and Firmin."

Erik peered at her out of the corner of his eyes, breath whooshing out of his lungs at the beauty of her resolve in that moment. She was everything he had ever wanted, a pillar of strength and compassion. When she looked at him with embarrassed, pleading eyes, he would have gladly given her anything she asked. "So, please stay with me and teach me."