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: Got nothing. Enjoy it, you lovely fiends.
Chapter Eleven: Advance and Retreat
Two days later, Christine was watching Nadir kneeling at the broken front door to her house, busy with repairs. True to his word, Erik hadn't come by the club since their argument, and she hadn't been able to forget her anxiety for a moment. After many hours of pacing restlessly around the nightclub, Madame Giry finally told her to go somewhere else for a while.
Sighing heavily, Christine sat on the arm of the sofa as Nadir managed to get the doorknob turning properly. As he shut the door gingerly, Christine asked, "Are you sure there's nothing for me to do? I could help set up for the party."
"Honestly, Christine, that's the tenth time today you've brought it up. I couldn't let you, even if I wanted. The whole party arrangement deal has been out of my hands for awhile now." He clicked the lock on the door after it shut and nodded in satisfaction. He walked over to sit down on a nearby couch in the living room. "We just gotta wait. They should have everything ready by tonight."
"More waiting, huh?" Christine flopped back into the sofa dramatically. An overwhelming surge of loneliness nearly brought tears to her eyes as she reclined back across the couch with her arm thrown over her face. Everyone had something to do. Only she was sitting here, unwanted and useless.
Her idle mind continued on overdrive through her loneliness and eventually she latched onto the most depressing thought in her brain. Her father had been her last family member and he'd been dead for a week. He had been a good dad, tried to attend her school functions, paid her way through college, always bragged about her to his friends.
She could only remember a vague collection of feelings when she tried to think about her mother, since she'd died when Christine was only five years old. But now, sitting in her father's house with only her bodyguard for company, she felt completely alone in the world. A chill swept through her body as she fought down a sudden wave of hysteria.
Why had she not felt this way when she was with Erik? Christine glanced over at Nadir, who was flipping through a magazine from the table. She knew she had strong feeling for Erik, but even so, the pain of having lost a family member seemed to lighten when she was with him. He made her smile and laugh at this dark world her father had left to her.
She remembered something Erik had told her when she first met Nadir. He was her father's bodyguard and assistant, but he had been mysteriously absent the day Gustav was murdered. When she'd asked Erik why Nadir hadn't shown up for work, he'd told her it wasn't his place to say. Christine eyed him suspiciously as he grinned up at her from behind his sunglasses. "Yeah? What's up?"
"Where were you the day my father was killed?" Christine demanded, irritable from her loneliness and irrational anxiety. She hated feeling like her whole world revolved around Erik's presence. "Erik said you had something important to do, but wouldn't tell me what."
His smile disappeared instantly and he seemed to wilt before her eyes. Within seconds, Nadir was only a fraction of his normally happy self, a deep frown turning his smile lines into creases of age. "I guess you have the right to know. I feel responsible for your father's death, even if there was no way I could have prevented it."
She waited for him to continue and after a moment's pause to collect himself, he said slowly, "I'll never forget the day you lost your father. It's the same day I lost my son."
Christine stared at him in shock, the blood draining from her face as if he had physically punched her in the stomach. "Your son?"
Nadir nodded once. "He had acute myelogenous leukemia… he was the last person I had left."
After a moment, Christine spoke in a shaky voice, "But… aren't there treatments to help that sort of thing?"
"Some." Nadir admitted, rubbing a hand over his shiny scalp. "A year or so ago, Reza underwent chemotherapy. There's only a 50 chance of survival, even in this day and age. When he… lost his hair, that's when I shaved my head for the first time. I told him all the cool people go bald. You should have seen the smile on his face…"
Christine gazed at the somber, crushed man sitting in front of her. How could this be the lighthearted Nadir she was used to? "I'm so sorry, Nadir."
He met her eyes reluctantly. "When he passed… honestly, my whole world was over. Someone informed me of your father's death soon after. The thought that you'd be left alone to face the criminals of this world is the only thing that kept me from killing myself. I owed it to your father to make sure you'd survive."
Just as they lapsed into an awkward, upset silence, the doorbell rang. Christine jumped up, startled by the sudden noise and started for the door only to have Nadir stand up. "Wait a minute. Let me answer it."
Christine stepped behind him as he walked to the door, opening it to find a petite woman in a business suit holding two boxes stacked in her hands. She smiled up at Nadir and offered the clothing and shoe boxes to him. "I'm from G. D. Enterprises, delivering Miss Daae's dress for the dinner party tonight. Everything's all set and your limo will be here to drive you to the banquet hall at 8 P.M."
Nadir took the boxes from the woman and peeked inside them before nodding. "Thanks. Good job."
He shut the door and handed the parcels to Christine, who took them eagerly. He could see the energy seeping back into her now that she had something to take her mind off the past few days. She glanced at a clock on the wall. "I'm going to take a shower and start getting ready. Do you want to go home to get ready too?"
"Can't leave you here alone, Boss." He stated simply as he locked the front door. "Go ahead and get ready. Want me to call Meg and see if she wants to ride with us to the party?"
"Yes, please," Christine rushed up the stairs to her bedroom. She shut the door and put the boxes on her bed. In the smaller box was a pair of elegant, black high heels. In the larger, rectangular box was a carefully folded, black cocktail dress.
Picking up the dress gingerly, she spread it out on the bed to examine it. Her heart sank as she gazed at the strapless, black silk dress. At the bottom of the box was a pair of short, black gloves that stopped at the wrists and a simple, matching purse. Despite their effective, simple design, she knew that they were all top of the line purchases. That wasn't what bothered her.
As she eyed the nice dress, she remembered Erik's pleased expression when she wore the burgundy business suit. His cute, well hidden embarrassment when she mentioned it matched his tie.
Glaring her eyes to fight back the tears that tingled in her throat, Christine stomped to her closet and dug through the piles of accessories scattered on the floor. After a minute of searching, she held up an extremely long, sheer scarf. It was blood red and when wrapped around her neck still had enough length to drape fashionably down to her knees.
As she walked to the bathroom connected to her bedroom, she tossed the scarf on the bed.
The company had reserved a large banquet hall at a fancy Italian restaurant for the dinner party. Christine, Nadir, and Meg got to the restaurant thirty minutes early at Christine's insistence. She wanted to greet her guests as they arrived.
When nine o'clock rolled around, a sudden flood of people entered the banquet room carrying gifts wrapped in decorative paper. Christine gazed at the men in business suits swarming toward her. She almost ran the other way in panic as they all offered their presents to her along with pleasant compliments. Meg leaned close and whispered, "Tell them to put all the gifts on the big, circular table in the back. Otherwise you'll drown in the sea of goodies."
Christine sent her a thankful smile and said in her most charming voice, "Thank you so much for coming. Please deposit all packages on the back table."
One skinny man in a blue suit handed his present to a nearby lackey and approached Christine. His brownish blond hair was brushed back from his forehead and his smile was too broad for his slender face. "Hello, Miss Daae. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I visited by a particularly… persuasive colleague of yours recently and I must say, I offer you my full support and encouragement."
"Ah, you must be talking about Erik," Christine could help but grin at the man's choice of words. "That would make you Mr. Firmin, correct? The pleasure's all mine."
She slipped her gloved hand into his and he shook it warmly. She offered her hand to the man beside him without glancing up and was surprised when the other man kissed her exposed wrist instead of shaking her hand. Hiding her annoyance, she turned to face the presumptuous man, only to find herself staring up at Raoul.
His black eye was looking better, cleverly concealed with make-up. Despite her irritation, she couldn't help but crack a smile at his beaten puppy expression. Before she knew it, she was laughing at his poor, abused face. "Raoul, it's good seeing you again. You're looking well."
If he was confused by her sudden acceptance of him, he hid it well. Meg stepped nearer to Christine, a purposefully blank look on her face as she asked, "Is he bothering you, honey?"
Christine was amused by Raoul's persistence tonight. Seeing a familiar face, even one that had taken a beating, was encouraging. Firmin glanced nervously between them. "You two know each other? But I thought…"
"He's an old friend, Firmin, that's all." Christine assured the petite man, patting him on the arm gently. "Please, enjoy yourselves. I need to greet my other guests for now."
Raoul leaned close, brushing a stray lock of hair off her face as he murmured into her ear, "Save a dance for me, beautiful."
Her body betrayed her with a shiver at his breathy words, his warm fingers lingering on her face a second before he walked away with Firmin following behind. Christine cursed herself as her eyes strayed to ogle at Raoul's lean figure. Meg sent her a warning look before she turned to greet the next guest.
Carlotta stood before them, scrutinizing Christine with a bored expression. Christine saw Piangi following Carlotta and envy coursed through her. Even her enemy got to be with the one she loved. Carlotta smiled slyly as she spoke, "We didn't bring a gift. I hope you don't mind, dear."
When Meg jolted silently beside her, Christine knew there was something wrong. Christine returned the loaded smile and reassured her, "Don't worry your pretty little head. I know things are tight for you right now, Carlotta. I wouldn't dream of accepting a gift from someone of your means."
Carlotta's lips stretched into a thin, straight frown as she fought to ignore the insult. Leaning close, she offered her hand and when Christine took it bravely, her other hand snaked out to press against Christine's left side. Pain shot through the stitched wound on her side and she clenched her teeth to keep from wincing. She wouldn't give the bitch that satisfaction.
"How IS your injury doing these days?" She hissed lightly, the hand on Christine's side closing slightly to put more pressure on the wound. "Next time you sick your little attack dog on me, no amount of stitching will be able to put you back together, girl."
Meg stepped forward, but Christine shook her head slightly, her face pale from the pain. Carlotta straightened her posture, taking her hands away and scanning the room idly. "Hm. Looks like your Phantom has spirited himself away. Who will listen to you without your enforcer? Twenty year old prostitutes don't exactly inspire fear in the hearts of men."
Christine's face remained pointedly blank as Carlotta's taunting voice echoed in her head. She tried her hardest to keep from fainting as the pain in her side subsided and Carlotta walked further into the banquet room. Meg grabbed her arm and spoke apologetic words to the next guest waiting in line.
Shrugging her away, Christine stood up straight and walked to a chair on her own, her blood red scarf trailing in her wake. More than the physical pain, the emotional turmoil Carlotta's words had stirred within her was undeniable. After a few minutes of steady breathing, Christine glanced around. The guests were all happily eating, talking, or dancing.
She looked toward the shadows hopefully, but found them empty. Had he truly abandoned her?
Fists clenching on her lap, Christine bit her bottom lip and eyed the plate in front of her. How stupid of her to assume someone like Erik could be interested in her. She was young, naïve, uninteresting…
"Nobody puts baby in a corner, huh?" Raoul's voice floated over from behind her. She smiled weakly as he slid into the chair beside her. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. You look like someone just kicked your dog."
"What do you care?" She sighed, rubbing at the bridge of her nose.
"I already told you, Christine. I care about you. It bothers me to see you like this, all alone in a room full of enemies." He replied, leaning his elbows on the table. "Where's your arm candy? I'm surprised he would leave you hanging like this."
"You don't know anything, Raoul," she snapped irritably, though his words were just another in a long line of emotional jabs she'd taken that night.
"Maybe not," he replied, standing from his seat and holding his hand out to her. "All I know is if you were mine, I wouldn't leave you alone for a second. Two is better than one, don't you think?"
She stared up at him with a wounded expression and slipped her hand into his. They walked to the dance floor just as the band began to play Frank Sinatra's Fly Me to the Moon. It was just the right speed to dance a playful waltz. Raoul pulled her close, their bodies bumping against each others as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She flinched as his arm pressed into her left side and took his arm away from her wound, instead holding his right hand in her left. Their fingers intertwined as he led her through the song.
When the song sped up, he twirled her around under his arm and she laughed as she spun until her arm was fully extended before he pulled her back into his arms. Her back was pressed against his front from the spinning movement and his arms were locked around her in a circle. She could feel his chest rising and falling, his breath warm on her ear. A flush spread across her cheeks as she realized he was aroused.
Before she could break free from his embrace, he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. The sensation of his lips on her sensitive skin nearly caused her eyes to droop shut and head fall to the side to allow him better access. Her body surprised her once again when a quiet moan almost escaped her lips.
She struggled in his arms, finally slipping under his hold and hurrying back to Nadir. He glanced at her questioningly as she neared. "You're all red-faced. Something happen?"
"No. Nothing happened." Christine grabbed a glass of water from the table and downed the contents without pause. She looked up to make sure Raoul wasn't following her. He was still standing dumbstruck on the dance floor. Nodding to herself, she grumbled, "Damn him. Every man but the one I want, huh?"
"What's that?" Nadir asked.
"I'm just pissed that Erik isn't here tonight." Christine muttered, crossing her arms. "I thought he cared more about me, you know?"
"Oh," Nadir shrugged as she plopped down into a chair. "He's here alright."
"Say what?"
"Yeah," he repeated, taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and handing it to her. "You can't see him. He's really good at that shit. Sneaky bastard."
"You mean he's here? Now?" She stared around the room in a mixture of nervousness and need. "So he saw all that?"
"Your little sexy dance with pretty boy? Yeah."
"How do you know?"
"He had the red laser from his gun trained on your boy toy's back for a good portion of the song." Nadir said with a wry smile. "Congratulations. You've got an irrational, jealous killer for a boyfriend. Enjoy that."
"He's not my boyfriend," Christine sighed, resting her forehead on the table tiredly. "Just wake me up if Erik tries to end anyone."
"No problem, Boss. Take it easy for a little bit. I got it under control."
A few hours and many glasses of champagne later, Meg was helping Christine out of the limo while Nadir held the door open for them. "There, there, honey. Lean on my shoulder. Watch it, we're coming up on the threshold."
Christine stepped through the front door carefully and eyed the stairs leading up to her second floor bedroom. She clung to Meg tightly as she mumbled, "I don't wanna go up the steps."
"A little help, Nadir?" Meg choked out, Christine's arms pressing into her windpipe. Nadir scooped Christine up easily and flung her over his shoulder, mindful of her stitches.
"Up we go!" He took the stairs two at a time and Christine threw her hands over her mouth, making a disgusted groan. "Hold it in, I don't want to have to dry clean this suit."
Meg hurried after them and once in Christine's room, she pushed Nadir outside the door. "I'll help her change. Wait out here."
Christine was sprawled in a sitting position on the floor against her bed, a hand pressed over her eyes as if the light was giving her a headache. Meg sighed and went to the dresser, removing a green tank-top and frog print pajama shorts. "Come on, baby. Let's get you ready for bed."
When Meg approached, Christine fumbled with the hem of her shirt, pulling it up until it somehow got stuck on her hairpin. Meg quickly untangled the clothes and got Christine into the pajamas. When Christine rubbed at her temples and whimpered, Meg helped her to sit on the bed and then walked to the door. "I'll get you some water and Advil."
Christine watched Meg leave, her mind blurry from slight intoxication and the night's events. She flopped back onto the bed and regretted it immediately when her head throbbed in protest. Rolling over to her side, she squeezed her eyes shut against the pain until a scraping noise caught her attention.
She opened her eyes just in time to see a man dressed in black climb in through her window.
It was safe to say Erik's night was a bust. The party had been annoying and Christine had done well when dealing with the other Mafioso. That didn't make it easy to see her dancing close and sexy with that… that… SNITCH.
He was driving home, having waited until Nadir carried Christine into the safety of their rented limo before leaving. Even driving his beloved classic car was doing nothing to elevate his mood. He'd been depressed and unable to focus on work since he'd left Christine at Madame Giry's a few nights before.
Not only was his attention span non-existent, he had kept his cell phone within arm's reach at all times, hoping to get a call from her. It was absurd. She didn't even have a cell phone.
He made a mental note to buy her one as soon as possible and then immediately berated himself for the thought.
Just then, his phone rang from its place on the seat next to him and he snatched it up with greedy hands. Holding it to his ear, he spoke in a voice of forced calm. "Yes?"
"Thank, God! Erik, this is Meg. We're at Christine's house and someone attacked-" There was a shriek in the background and the call cut off abruptly. Erik nearly drove his car into a building doing a U-turn in the middle of the street.
Heart pounding frantically in his chest, Erik sped toward the suburbs with a single-minded desperation. What if Christine was hurt again? What if this time, he wasn't there to help her and she died?
He cursed Madame Giry for her old fashioned mindset and almost beat his head against the steering wheel for listening to her. When he pulled into the driveway outside Christine's house, he ripped the keys out of the ignition and found the front door of the house locked. Angry beyond words, he kicked the door open and ran toward the stairs.
A loud scream rang out from Christine's room and he nearly flew up the stairs, bursting into the bedroom to find Nadir dabbing at Christine's knuckles with a cotton swab. The skin on her right knuckles was red and split as if she'd punched someone multiple times. A man was lying face down on the carpet in the middle of the room, not moving.
Meg entered behind Erik, her hands full of plastic zip-ties. "Oh. Hey, Erik. Good to see you."
But Erik's full attention was focused on Christine, who was sniffling from her seat on the edge of her bed. At the mention of his name, she glanced up slowly. Her eyes widened when they locked gazed and her flimsy mask of bravery shattered instantly. She threw her arms up, stretching out for him as her tears finally overflowed.
The helplessness in her voice brought his self control crashing down around him as she sobbed, "Erik!"
Before he could stop himself, he had crossed the distance separating them and wrapped his arms around her, knocking Nadir out of the way. She circled her arms around his back and latched on tightly, burying her face into his shirt as she cried.
He knelt on the floor in front of her, his face pressed against her hair, murmuring, "I love you. God, I love you. Don't do this to me anymore. I could have died. If nothing else, keep her safe."
Nadir took the zip-ties from Meg, who left the room discreetly when she saw Erik move toward Christine. Using the ties, he began to hogtie the unconscious assassin in an efficient style. Out of the corner of his eyes, Erik noticed Nadir start to drag the assassin out of the room. His need for revenge burned in his veins as he tried to stand up in order to help Nadir remove the attacker for interrogation.
Christine's grip on his shirt remained firm and caused him to jerk to a halt. "No. Nadir can take care of that asshole."
Erik watched Nadir drag the man out of the room and shut the door, leaving them alone in her room. "But, I-"
"You're not my subordinate, Erik. This is a job for me and my people. You're not my hired thug. Nadir is."
"I don't understand," Erik fumbled with his words, almost frantic from her refusal of his help. "You can't just get rid of me. Is this because of what I said-"
"Who said I'm getting rid of you? Erik, you're my lover. Not my personal hit man," she leaned in to kiss his cheek as he gaped at her in shock. "Aw, did I break you? How cute."
In all the years he'd followed Elizabeth, keeping her safe, doing his best to please her even to the point of killing, she had never thought of him as more than a convenient tool. This sudden change in his status surprised him to the point of stupidity.
Christine took full advantage of his confusion to yank him down to her lips by his tie. She kissed him with a savage passion, a hint of punishment hidden behind the pleasure. When she finally broke for air, she breathed, "I've missed you."
He stared up at her with heavy-lidded eyes glassy from lust. It was a good look for him. She sighed and burrowed close to him within his arms. "Tell me again."
"What?" he gasped, her head dipped down to his collar, lips nibbling along the sensitive skin at the base of his throat.
"What you said earlier," her warm breath tickled and he almost squirmed in pleasure. "How you feel about me."
"Oh," his brain was hazy, muddled. Her hands trailed down his back and he wondered how it would feel with his shirt off. Her pretty nails would apply just the right pressure, somewhere between a caress and a scratch. "I love you."
A small sigh escaped her lips, arms looping to rest around his shoulders. She pressed her cheek to his chest and closed her eyes briefly. "Would you take off your mask for me, Erik?"
At the moment, he felt like he would agree to anything she asked just to keep her in his arms, but when her words registered in his mind he reflexively tried to draw back. He stopped himself through sheer force of will and managed, "If you want it off, you'll have to do it yourself."
She peered up at him and saw the firm resolve in his eyes. Was he testing her? Hadn't she already proven how much she loved him? Without hesitation, she reached up and removed the polished half-mask covering the deformed part of his face.
He was still horribly disfigured, but she stared at him with a mix of defiance and love in her eyes. "If you're hoping to scare me away, you underestimate me."
She placed gentle hands on both sides of his face, drawing him into another passionate kiss that sent a shiver through both of them. She clung to him, pressed so close he could feel every contour of her body against his.
One hand slipped under her tank-top, brushing her smooth skin with slow, exploring fingers hidden within his leather gloves. His other hand cupped her cheek as their kiss deepened, his touch soft as if she would shatter in his grip.
When her hand strayed to the waist of his pants, he jolted back in surprise. She hadn't even touched his skin. He was wearing a suspicious amount of clothes from his undershirt and boxers to his heavy overcoat and all the layers in between. He even has his annoyingly cool leather gloves on still.
She stared at him, their kiss broken when she'd reached for his pants. "Gonna make this difficult? You can't say you're not attracted to me."
The erection currently straining against his dress pants was enough evidence to back up her statement.
"At least I can tell what your body wants, even if your brain keeps running around in circles." She muttered, taking his gloved hand in hers. "Why do you always wear these? You can't possibly feel anything through them."
"For the same reason I wear my mask," he replied as she carefully tugged the gloves away revealing his hands. The flesh on his right hand was scarred and looked burned. The fingers were thin, skeletal, with almost no meat to conceal the twisted tendons just below the mangled skin.
She brought his hands up to her face and pressed a kiss to each palm. He eyes met his, flushed cheeks and loving smile making his heart hammer loudly within his ribcage. "It's okay, Erik. I'm not going anywhere. We'll take this slow."
A rush of relief crashed over him as her gentle, understanding words. Despite everything, she still wanted him. He watched as she climbed into her bed and pulled back the blanket. She raised an eyebrow at him when he remained kneeling in place. "Well? Just because we aren't having sex doesn't mean I can't get cuddles."
"You mean… I can sleep with you?" The surprise in his voice caused her to experience a pang of sympathy for him. It was as though the mere idea of sleeping in the same bed as someone else was beyond his wildest dreams.
"You really don't have a choice. I don't think I'll be able to sleep alone tonight after that attack," she smiled at him as she beckoned him with a finger. "So, take pity on a scared girl? But you gotta take off your shoes at least."
He quickly kicked off his leather shoes and climbed into her bed, wrapping his arms around her tightly. She laughed as he rained kisses on her face repeatedly, and she eventually fell asleep with her ear pressed to his chest, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat.