Disclaimer: Based on the novel by Gaston Leroux. All Phantom related works, as well as lyrics quoted in the story, belong to their respective owners.

Chapter 10 - The Italian welcome

Landing at Milano-Linate, Carlotta called a cab which took them to the city center. When it stopped in front of an old-fashioned apartment building with iron-railed balconies, massive wooden doors and red brick walls partially covered with ivy, Erik couldn't hide his surprise.

"Thought your house would be more modern," he commented, carrying their luggage into the hall.

"This is actually my parents' place," Carlotta replied calling for the elevator. "Dad inherited it after grandpa who bought it after he and granny moved to Italy. I used to live in a modern flat with my b-" She bit her tongue at the last moment. "I used to live somewhere else."

They got out on the sixth floor and Carlotta went to one of the doors and rang the bell. There was a sound of steps and a minute later a woman opened up. She was a good looking lady in her late forties or perhaps early fifties, with short hair and smiling eyes.

"Ciao tesoro!" She pulled Carlotta into a warm embrace.

A tall, dark-haired man came out of the apartment.

"Papà!" the girl exclaimed hugging him as well.

"Carlotta!" A little girl, no more than six or seven years old, ran out of the door. "Mi sei mancata tanto tanto."

Carlotta lifted her up into her arms and kissed her cheek. "Anche tu a me."

Looking over Carlotta's shoulder, the child noticed Erik lurking in the darkness of the corridor and let out a sharp gasp. "Chi è quello?" Who was he, she asked, burying her head in the crook of the her older sister's neck.

"Che cazzo sorella?" The curse was spoken by yet another member of the family, a young man of about thirty-something who just appeared in the doorframe. "Ti sei portata dietro il Fantasma dell'Opera?"

At that point, Carlotta's parents noticed Erik as well and now all four of them were staring at him with a mix of confusion and curiosity.

"Scusate," Carlotta stepped in. "Lui è Erik, l'amico di Parigi di cui vi ho parlato," she introduced him.

"Ma parla solo francese?" Mrs. Giudicelli said in a low voice.

"Erik prides himself in speaking many languages," he told her in perfect, albeit slightly accented Italian.

"Oh thank God!" The woman let out a deep breath. "I was getting worried how we'd manage to understand each other."

"Erik," Carlotta addressed him, "these are my parents, Marco and Elena."

"Pleasure to meet you Signor Giudicelli." Erik bowed to her father.

"Don't Signor me," the man laughed shaking hands with him. "Just call me Marco."

"Signora." Erik lifted the woman's hand and kissed the air above it.

"Elena," she corrected. "In Italy, it's custom to call one another by their given name."

"I wouldn't want to sound disrespectful."

Carlotta giggled. "If you call my mother signora, you'll make her feel like an old hag."

"I assure you I see you as anything but," Erik rushed to rectify.

The woman blushed. She liked the man already in spite of his eccentric appearance.

"Anyways," Carlotta went on with the introductions. "this is my older brother, Andrea," she pointed out to the man, who just gave Erik a curt nod, "and this is my little sister, Diletta."

"Ciao," he greeted the girl but she only ogled him shyly, perhaps spooked by his masked face.

"Come on people, let's go inside." Taking his daughter's suitcase, Mr. Giudicelli went back into the apartment. The rest of them followed.

The Giudicellis' house was laid on two floors connected by a spiral staircase. Climbing upstairs, Erik admired the polished wooden floors partially covered with eastern rugs, the fine furniture and the many paintings and portraits that adorned the stuccoed white walls.

Waiting for Carlotta there was her old bedroom while Erik was invited to take the guest room. Leaving their luggage and taking a moment to freshen up, they went back downstairs where Mrs. Giudicelli had already prepared some coffee.

"Tell me, Erik," she began when everyone took a seat in the living, "how did you two meet?"

Erik stared at his espresso. "Well… we just…"

Oh, they just randomly ran into each other after he miraculously came back from the dead, he wanted to strangle her but she kissed him instead and that just kind of turned the tables.

"We met at the Opera." Carlotta came to his rescue. "Erik works there as well."

"So you're also a musician?"

"You could say so."

"Music's been running in our family for generations," Mr. Giudicelli said. "Has Carlotta ever told you that her great great grandmother whom she'd been named after used to be the primadonna at Opera Garnier?"

Erik and Carlotta exchanged glances.

"Yes, she might have mentioned it."

"She was very famous," Carlotta's brother cut in. "She would've made great career hasn't it been for some weird incident."

"What?"

"According to the stories la Carlotta was being sabotaged by someone at the Opera," Carlotta's father explained. "Apparently said person pulled some nasty trick on her during a performance. She was so humiliated she hadn't sung since."

Andrea gruffed, "Whoever did that was a real asshole."

Erik felt a shameful blush creep up his cheeks. He never meant to destroy the diva. He only used her as a tool to get back at the managers for their outrageous disrespect of his humble persona. He never cared to think about how she'd take his little prank. He just assumed that, confident as she was, she'd get over it and hopefully go to make a career on another stage where she'd be out of his way. He never imagined she'd quit altogether.

"That's just an old story," Carlotta muttered. "Why bring it up now?"

An awkward silence fell in the room. Erik stared at his empty coffee cup unsure what to do. Perhaps he should say something, but what? While he frantically searched for a possible conversation starter, something tickled his leg and looking down he saw a beautiful Ragdoll.

"This is Diana," Carlotta told him.

Extending his arm, Erik stroked the cat and she nuzzled into his palm, purring softly. She was quite the princess with her soft white and brown fur and huge blue eyes.

"I've never seen her act like this with strangers," Mrs. Giudicelli commented when Diana lept onto Erik's lap and urged him to pet her some more.

Carlotta smiled. It looked like Kay hit it right with Erik's liking for cats.

"Tell me, dear," her mother called her attention, "how's your career going. You never say anything over the phone."

"There's not much to say." Carlotta shrugged her shoulders. "I always understudy for the lead but so far I haven't had the opportunity to sing anything major yet."

"You will get your big role eventually."

Probably not considering the price she'd have to pay to pay to get it.

"I agree with you Elena," Erik said. "Your daughter is very talented and I shall see that she gets the chance she deserves."

"So you're in the management?"

"Not exactly."

"Erik's a vocal coach," Carlotta half-lied. "He's been helping me out with my training. He only meant he'd make me sing well enough to be offered the lead."

She had a vague feeling he meant something entirely different and involving the use of a Punjab lasso but she couldn't possibly discuss this in front of her family.

Enticed by Diana, little Diletta approached Erik and joined in playing with the cat, all the while glancing curiously at her older sister's strange friend.

"Why do you wear a mask?" she asked all of a sudden, immediately attracting everyone's attention.

"Dilè, you don't ask people why they wear a mask," her father scolded her.

"It's all right." Erik shrugged it off. She wasn't the first child to ask him that.

Still, the atmosphere had gotten dense. Now that it had been mentioned no one could hold their curiosity about Erik's masked appearance and the reasons behind it.

"Perhaps it's about time I go to prepare dinner," Mrs. Giudicelli said finally.

Her husband took their younger daughter by the hand. "Dilè, why don't we go help mom?"

The girl nodded and they both went to the kitchen.

"I'm sorry for Diletta," Carlotta told Erik when they were gone. "She's just a child. She doesn't understand it's rude to ask people certain things."

"Her question was legit," Andrea, who'd stayed in the living, spoke up. "Why the hell does he wear a mask?"

"Ma dai Andrea!"

"Why I wear a mask is none of your concern," Erik said through gritted teeth.

"Chill man!" Andrea got up his seat. "Was just curious, that's all."

When the younger man left the room, Erik turned to Carlotta. "I shouldn't have come," he muttered.

"Don't mind my brother," she said, snuggling into his side. "Every time I bring a new boyfriend home he puts him through a drill."

Boyfriend?! He wasn't her boyfriend! Or was he? He grew to think of them as friends but now he wasn't sure the term fit anymore. One certainly doesn't think of their friends in the ways he sometimes thought about Carlotta, ways in which he never even thought about Christine.

Diletta's treble voice interrupted his musings. "Dinner's almost ready," she said, peeking into the room. "Mom asks if you'll help her set the table."

Erik and Carlotta nodded in agreement and made their way to the kitchen to get some plates, glasses, and cutlery.

Dinner went on without any major disruptions. Andrea kept on his antagonistic demeanor towards Erik but the rest of the family was more than welcoming. Even little Diletta opened up to him and by the end of the evening she was sitting in his lap and asking him a million questions about Paris and the Opera House.

The phantom was appalled by how much the Italians ate. After a couple bruschettas, some smoked ham and a few pieces of cheese he was already full but there was still some pasta coming up, then a cutlet with potatoes and salad and finally a dessert, all accompanied with an abundant quantity of wine. Eating so much, he was surprised Carlotta wasn't twice her size.

As it got late took her little girl to bed. The rest of the family followed shortly after.

Provided with some towels and a spare bathrobe Erik took his turn in the shower, then quickly snuck into the guest room.

Despite the tiredness, he couldn't get asleep. The door didn't lock and he kept on glancing at it, afraid someone might come in to sneak peek at his face while he slept. Minutes passed slowly and when sleep wouldn't come he got up and went to explore the apartment.

Silent as a ghost he walked the moonlit rooms until he ended up back in the living. There, hanging above the sofa he'd been sitting on earlier he noticed an oil painting of a good looking woman with dark hair and eyes.

Diva la Carlotta. He'd hurt her more than he'd ever intended to. Who knows how things would've turned out for her if he hadn't had? Perhaps she would've never left Paris. She would've never married that Italian officer. She would've never had children and grandchildren. The little toad would've never been born.

Silently he crept into Carlotta's room and sitting on the edge of her bed he let his eyes slide hungrily over her sleeping form. She was so lovely even without makeup, in cozy pajamas and with her hair undone. Reaching out, he gently stroked away a few strands that had fallen over her face.

She opened her eyes and seeing a dark shadow by her bed she let out a muffled shriek.

"Ssh," he shushed her, putting a finger over her mouth, "it's just me."

"Erik?" she mumbled sleepily. "What are you doing up? Is something wrong?"

"No. I just… Never mind. I'm sorry for waking you up. I'll better go now."

He got off the bed but then Carlotta's tiny fingers closed in on his wrist and she whispered, "Stay."

Looks like someone is growing a conscience. He never meant to be this mean to La Carlotta. Honest. It wasn't his fault if she was on his way.

Perhaps he could make up for the sins of the past by helping Mini Carlotta become a star? Or in some other way?

Next chapter: Will Erik stay? And if he does, how will that play out? Read on to find out!