Chapter 46: Somewhat of An End

~ Daniella ~

It was the second day in the hospital when I opened my eyes. The first face that greeted me then was my mother, holding my hand that was free of an intravenous line. She sobbed quite vigorously. I had to try to calm her through a squeeze of my fingers on her flushed cheek. We talked after she quieted down and I was informed of everything with regards to my condition.

Miraculously, I survived the car crash without any fatal injuries aside from some glass lacerations in my legs, bruises, a broken left wrist and a head concussion. The doctors wanted to make sure everything of my body processes were stable so they needed me on hospital bedrest for the next two weeks together with my scheduled wrist surgery.

I was fine with that and stayed as per recommendation, but as the days passed by I noticed something was missing.

Not one Club member visited me.

No Erik, Vincent, Karl, Alec, Enrique, Amano or Suri stepping inside my room.

I got confused and at the same time worried.

Because of this, I asked my mother how she learned of my situation but she only just shrugged her shoulders and answered that a hospital staff had called her about my unfortunate road accident.

I asked her if she met any of the Fancy Pants Club members upon arriving at the hospital and she answered me that she hadn’t met at least one. Apparently, no one had visited me since she arrived.

I had trouble believing it of course. Erik and the others wouldn’t just abandon me like this unless something happened to them. I wanted to know the truth but since I was still on bedrest, I had my mother check on the chateau and the Club the following days.

What I learned paled me even more.

She said that the north side of the chateau was burned down. Due to this, the staff had to shut all operations indefinitely. No news about the Club and its Club members were released except for the state of the chateau’s north side, in the President’s Hall particularly, wherein bullet holes decorated the walls and charred human bodies were seen lying with firearms in their sides. The media was all over the spectacle and for that, I borrowed my mother’s laptop to search.

My hands went frigid after confirming my mother’s accounts. Although I fought it, tears dripped in great amounts down my cheeks.

There were various theories from the media explaining the popular Fancy Pants Club’s sudden disappearance. It ranged from them dismantling the Club, a party gone wild and disastrous, and an altercation with some not-yet-confirmed mysterious syndicate. The last one was probably what the public had been tuning on considering an amateur video leaked showing Nikola’s Bugatti crash and Erik’s apparent rampage on his brother.

I was in the video too, the unconscious me, and because of that I had to spill out everything to my mother that pertained to the Club, to Iopata and to my lover, Erik and our past.

Surprisingly, she was all thumbs up with my relationship with him amidst the dangers that went along with it. She was even happy that I have finally found someone to care for, and even a Fancy Pants Club president at that. I could see how she was worried though, so I had to reassure her that everything was fine, now that Nikola and Iopata had been eradicated.

Or at least that’s what I was hoping for.

I didn’t want to think that Erik and the others are dead. I didn’t want to think that those burned bodies in the President’s Hall were them, but what else am I to think? I was out cold those first two days. It was possible that Nikola survived the crash too and together with Hyde made their plans of bringing down Erik and the Club a reality.

God, no.

But as the days went by, no good news arrived in my doorstep, or even familiar faces that I considered my friends, or even my lover who my heart yearned for.

It saddened me and because of this, it affected my recuperating process. Luckily, my mother understood my situation. She tried her hardest to cheer me up and accompanied me the whole hospital admission amidst our busy business demanding her.

What was meant to be two weeks of hospital admission became three. When I was cleared of my doctors for discharge, at my mother’s insistence, I decided to leave with her for New York. I asked her to give me at least one day to check on the chateau though and she gave me that.

I needed evidences - evidences that would clarify and answer everything: why Erik and the Club didn’t visit me, why they suddenly disappeared, and if...if they were truly gone.

On my day of visit in the chateau, I was allowed entry even though it was prohibited. The front guard had recognized me being one of the Club members so he let me in. I didn’t miss out how he seemed to be too calm after seeing me though.

Once inside, I found the place in a standstill. I caught a faint smell of burning wood and paint and I immediately connected it to the said fire three weeks ago.

Out of the two hundred and thirty Iopata victims serving as employees maintaining the chateau, not one soul was present. Most of the lights were turned off including that of the front desk and the customer service counter. Fresh flowers that were supposed to be changed every other day were in the process of wilting. The finest Persian carpets that were supposed to be vacuumed clean showed signs of dust collection. Even the chandeliers in the main hall, in the second and third floor foyers, and the light fixtures in every hallway exhibited the beginnings of cobwebs.

I was at a loss for words. This was evidence number one.

What came out of my mouth were gasps and quiet sobs especially when I checked on the burnt President’s Hall at the north wing. True enough, signs of its ultimate fate were clearly seen.

There was a gaping hole that welcomed me once I stepped inside the double doors. It was supposed to be where the center stage and backstage stood. The view of the outside gardens could be seen right through it. This was evidence number two.

The dance floor was cleaned of any debris, but I can bet there were glowing embers and ashes in it from that time. The ceiling was black as oppose to it being creamy white while the enormous chandeliers that once hung beautifully on it, looked disfigured.

The walls were charred, chapped and as reported, full of bullet holes - my evidence number three. The red carpet didn’t look like a carpet anymore. It was a dirty mess and if I stare at it thoroughly, blood stains could be seen. This was my evidence number four.

My heart sank upon finding the once great splendor of the President’s Hall reduced to a wreck but my heart sank even more upon realizing the worst.

How? How?! That single word kept popping out of my head.

Tears did fall down my cheeks upon remembering Erik and the others and the possibility of this place becoming their last stand against Iopata, and the possibility of this place becoming their burial site.

I cried and cried and sat, holding myself close against the frame of the double doors. If true that they are gone, if true that Erik is gone, I wouldn’t be able to recollect myself. I would forever be damaged. Forever thinking of the love and friendship the Fancy Pants Club had given me. I would forever hate myself for being helpless, for sleeping in a hospital room while they were here fighting for what was right.

I had cried so much that it made my body weak, but after an hour, I willed myself to stand and I willed myself to leave the godawful hall, aiming still to proceed on my checking while I still had the courage. I knew then that if I see the fourth floor, particularly me and Erik’s rooms, I might breakdown again thinking of my blessed memories with him. I couldn’t have that.

God, I couldn’t.

But, I had to. Yes, I had to. For closure and for my sanity. And so that I wouldn’t regret it in New York thinking of what ifs without looking for the evidences myself.

When I walked up the hall leading to the private elevator, I wrapped my arms around in a way of comforting myself. I flinched feeling the radiating pain in my repaired broken wrist fitted inside a cast, but it couldn’t compare to the amount of pain in my heart.

Silently hoping that the lift still works, I stood inside and pressed for the fourth floor button. I thanked the heavens when it started moving up.

Seconds later, it pinged open and I stepped out.

The foyer’s light fixtures were still unlit, but the sun’s rays passing through the octagon skylight lighted the entire area instead.

No changes were seen in this part of the floor. The statue of Ares was still in the center along with the rifle in his hand. I had to pull the trigger just to see if this still opens the secret room and yes, it did.

Drying up my tears with the back of my hand, I cautiously approached the room. Once there, I pressed on the two buttons, opening the two more secret rooms of the Club. In what I call the conference room, I found it still the same. Nothing to take note of and no signs of a living soul inside. Proceeding, I checked on the second I called the media room and received the same results, except of course discovering the ammunition and firearms that were once stocked inside gone. The surveillance cameras of all the parts of the chateau were turned off too and the desks that once were full of weird diagrams and maps were cleaned out.

Though I found it weird, I just ignored the changes and proceeded to my chamber.

My hands trembled the whole time when I did thinking that I might find further evidence there, evidence that would tell me a life without Erik has come.

With the door unlocked, I entered. I felt myself choke when I passed by the receiving room towards my bedroom.

In there, nothing significant can be noted. Yes, nothing at all, except for the suspicious-looking fold of paper right in the center of my mattress with my emerald ring weighing it down. I remembered that I just kept this heirloom in a black box in my travel bag when I returned here from New York. After losing it once, I figured that wearing it wouldn’t be a good idea, so I just kept it in a safe place.

But now, why is this here? I asked myself in a gasp.

In a hurry, I strode towards the bed, sat on it and picked the two objects up. The emerald ring I slid easily in my ring finger and the folded paper I opened while I held my breath.

‘My Sweet Rose, I am deeply sorry to have caused you pain.’

I sobbed. I really, really sobbed once I read the first sentence. He knows that my heart is in pain due to his absence.

‘I wanted to be with you in the hospital. Care for you. Be with you all the way. But I needed to end my battles with Iopata. For you. For your safety. If I am not present to apologize myself, something must have probably gone wrong, but know that I will always love you. You are my life Daniella. My life. Everything is complete with you. I am sorry, I truly am, for leaving you like this. I love you forever.’ ~ Erik

And that did it for me. Continuous tears fell from my eyes. I felt my chest constrict, feeling like it was trampled over by elephants and a herd of buffaloes.

This was my last evidence proving the death of Erik and the others.

I shook my head and crumpled the letter.

I can’t accept it! I can’t!

They couldn’t be dead! They are trained! They are specialists! They are good at what they do!

I threw the damn paper away, towards the door, towards where I want Erik to be, standing with his arms wide open waiting for me.

Standing...standing with his arms wide ready to envelope me.

To comfort me.

To tell me that everything was okay.

To tell me that their battles have ended.

To tell me that he is not dead!

And kiss me.

Kiss my tears away....

But as I looked, Erik wasn’t standing in the door. He wasn’t smiling back at me with a comforting smile, and I knew deep in my heart that he will never be there. Ever.

Falling on the mattress, I curled myself up and let my tears fall without hindrance. I shouted for his name in my heart...

In my head...

And shouted more with my strained voice again and again, hitting my chest so hard that the pain in my heart would numb.

“Erik... no...”

I wished myself to die too. A life without him would be nothing.

I wished.

And wished.

And wished for death.

Until the exhaustion of crying pulled me in for a deep sleep.

When I woke up, I found my muscles aching. I found my eyes still wet with tears. Fresh tears. I found my throat dry. So dry.

Yet, I was confused.

How am I in the President’s Hall still instead of my bedroom? How am I still sitting and leaning against the frame of the double doors instead of lying, curled up in my mattress? And how was it that in my front stood a man with his back to me, wearing a white crisp shirt and black slacks - a rather explicit contrast of the charred mess surrounding him?

How?

How?!

I shook my head when the man in my front turned to face me; the warmth of his expression feeling me up with deep longing.

“Daniella,” he called, locking eyes with me.

I gasped.

Is this an apparition? A mirage? Or a ghost hallucination of Erik?

I shook my head again.

“Erik,” I uttered, softly, hesitantly, still confused and in doubt.

How?!

When he strode towards me, my heartbeat jumped loudly against my chest. I curled my hands into a fist.

Fuck. If this is just a dream, I wouldn’t want to wake up!!!

Although faint, the scent of his cologne filled me up, making my head go dizzy as he stooped low to round his arm on my waist.

I blinked twice, thrice as he helped me up; my knees wobbling in the process.

How?!

“Erik...?”

“My Sweet Rose.” His voice, oh his voice, filled my ears like the sweetest music.

This and the warmth of his hands on my back, and the hard chest pressing against my own, and the solidness of his shoulders against my palms, and the hypnotic eyes raking at me, I knew then that this wasn’t a dream. That this was real.

That the one I had in my bedroom was the dream. That it was just my imagination created by my crying.

And because of that realization, I feel like being reborn again.

“Erik!” My eyes widened. I palmed his face, his head, his neck, his shoulders, his chest - stopping there to feel the regular bounding of his heart - and exclaimed, “Oh my God, you’re here! You are really here! You are alive!”

He smiled at me warmly and said, “I have to be alive in order to love you, Daniella.”

~ Erik ~

In an act of desperation, a wounded Hyde released a specialized hand grenade in the air when I closed in on him after a shootout with his goons. The grenade exploded in the center stage creating a big flaming hole as a result. I was lucky enough to survive and so were my fellow Club members, but really, we almost thought we were dead meat that time.

After this successful last stand with Hyde and his men, we even furthered our operations in Russia together with the local army to destroy their base once and for all. This was the reason why me and the other Fancy Pants club members never got a chance to visit Daniella these past few weeks.

So that Daniella won’t be alone, I had the hospital staff call her mother. I met with her the day she arrived in the airport and explained everything there: the nature of the Club, the problems we were facing, my feelings for her daughter and my will to make her my bride soon.

I asked her to make our meeting a secret and to act as normal as possible. I knew it wouldn’t be the right thing to do, but it was in order to give Daniella a peace of mind. She had worried with all of us too much and I don’t want her worrying even more.

Although I know that it’s in her nature to worry and overthink a lot of things.

When her mother called me two days before their discharge and informed me that Daniella wanted to visit the chateau, I immediately set out for a return flight to Beverly Hills.

ISA and my fellow Club members didn’t need to stop me anymore. Iopata and its base had now fully been destroyed.

When I arrived in the chateau, I immediately went straight into the Club’s underground hideout - to my chamber specifically - and pulled out a certain blue velvet box in my safety deposit box.

In haste, I looked for Daniella then. Surveillance cameras in my room showed that she had just entered the north wing so I went there.

What I saw when I arrived crushed me really good. Daniella was nestled against the frame of the main double doors, sleeping serenely yet tears in her eyes streamed down her face.

I had the urge to wake her up. I had the urge to lift her, bring her in my bed and press her head against my chest in order to comfort her.

I wanted to do that but I was afraid she might jump out of my hold in surprise, thinking I was Nikola.

I decided to stand a couple of feet away from her and wait, wait for my lovely Sweet Rose to wake up and see me.

~ Daniella ~

I couldn’t hold back the fresh new batch of tears from falling when Erik cupped my chin and held my gaze with so much passion.

“I apologize I couldn’t be with you in the hospital,” he said, putting a thumb against my bottom lip. “I was in Rus-”

I placed a finger in his lips to stop him. “Let me guess, Iopata related isn’t it?” I asked with a little sob.

He nodded and made an apologetic face.

Gods, this expression just doesn’t fit him well.

“Stop that Erik, I like you more when you are scowling at me,” I teased, but I must have been a sight to see, teasing and crying all at the same time.

He lifted my chin up. “Are you going to marry me still?”

My heart swelled with that. “Of course, I will.”

“Then, I’d like you to wear these for a start.”

To my surprise, he pulled out a blue velvet ring box from his pants pocket and opened it for me.

I gaped.

The contents inside were a sparkling green and blue.

Green for my emerald ring and blue for the sapphire stone set in a silver band, surrounded by exquisitely-cut teardrop diamonds.

“Oh, Erik...” I felt my chest constrict with utter happiness. He was smiling when he took out both rings and slipped them side-by-side in my ring and middle fingers.

“You are mine forever Daniella, always remember that,” he uttered in a possessive yet husky voice.

“I am. Yes, I will always be yours forever.” I nodded at him; my broken heart slowly healing from the pain the nightmarish dream had made.

He brought me chest to chest again and without further waiting, devoured my lips passionately for almost a breathless minute.