A Woman's Devotion (Phantom Of The Opera x Reader)

9. Hostage Situation

(A/N: Surprise! A midnight chapter release! We're staying up late to listen to the premiere of 1989 Taylor's Version, so we decided we might as well update too. Now, you all enjoy this chapter. It's a wild one, and we're going to go sing our hearts out.)

TW: Attempted kidnapping, nonconsensual kissing, and a depiction of murder.

Y/n's POV:

After mine and Erik's night of pleasure, life- at least in our private sphere- became bliss. Often, Erik passed me a saucy look, suggestive of our time spent tangled in winding sheets, and I giggled like a winsome vaudeville star. Maybe Erik didn't realize it, but his newfound interest in me made me feel desirable enough to play such roles.

Outside our personal sphere, though, some undefinable tension loomed in the air. Jonvier was an ever-present enigma to my life. To Erik, he was worse: my husband considered him a threat. Whenever I entered Jonvier's office to clean, Erik's eyes would warily trail after me while he muttered words about the "foppish dolt who pretends some kitchen ware formed the Industrial Revolution as a whole."

I endeavored to ignore these quiet remarks, but each time, the erosion of Erik's forbearance was tangible in the air. We best earn that money for Oklahoma soon.

There was another reason behind my wish for Oklahoma, and that was a change in temperature. With July finally upon us, the heat I'd complained of during our arrival in March felt like child's play. Now, nights were hazy dreams spent in sweat-drenched blankets. The daytime, if it was even possible, was far more nightmarish. New Orleans itself slept during the summer, with those who could afford it migrating to cooler climates and those who couldn't staying indoors as often as possible.

One day, as usual, Erik and I arrived at work on time. I cleaned and cooked the day away, and Erik spent the morning in the garden, then the afternoon instructing Gabriel's piano prowess. Really, the boy had grown proficient in our short time working here, which made my heart swell with pride in my husband.

After tackling a lengthy pile of breakfast dishes, I climbed the steps to Jonvier's office. I always aimed to have my daily tidy-up immediately after washing the breakfast dishes. If things went according to schedule, I could usually prop my feet up and rest for a half hour before I had to prepare luncheon.

In Jonvier's office, the curtains were drawn shut, but a change in the room caught me off guard. Piles of luggage resided in one corner, enough to outfit three people, or perhaps one person for a few months.

Jonvier sat at his impressive mahogany desk, scribbling something into a thick ledger. He hummed a little to the tune floating inside from the nearby parlor. Erik was currently practicing with Gabriel, and they sounded splendid.

Jonvier looked up upon my entrance, but my eyes were still glued to the trunks, carpetbags, and hatboxes pushed against the wall.

 "Ah, Y/n, I was expecting you." He said.

Finally, my gaze snapped away from the luggage.

 "Are you headed on a trip, monsieur?"

He glanced at the obscured window, as if he could see past the curtain.

 "Yes, you could say that, but I will divulge details here in a minute." He gestured me towards his desk. "My dear, come over here, please."

I squirmed at his overfamiliar address. If I had more courage, I might have put him in his place. But, no, he was my employer, and I couldn't wreck this opportunity for Erik and me. Besides, Americans were just friendly. That's all it was.

Against my better judgement, I advanced nearer to Jonvier with bated breath. Hopefully, he didn't think I anticipated something pleasurable from him. When the memory returned to me too vividly, his kiss still burned on my lips.