What Lies Behind the Mask (Phantom of the Opera x OC)

Chapter Fourteen: The Acquiring

Early morning light drifted through the finely made curtains onto the intertwined bodies in the bed. The birds chirping outside roused Breton from his dreams as he rolled over to peek at the woman sleeping beside him. Her russet curls were blanketed against the downy white of the pillow, and Breton could faintly catch a whiff of cardamom in her hair. He leaned over to kiss the woman's shoulder in order to wake her up, only stopping once her emerald gaze was set upon him. 

"Good morning, Mademoiselle Ayala," he muttered, his lips forming a smile as he watched her stretch and yawn. "And how did you sleep after last night?" 

"I was completely spent," she replied, her voice carrying the soft lilt of a Spanish accent. "Thank you for the attention that you gave me last night. I have never experienced such a good lover." 

A chuckle left Breton's lips as he sat up in bed, running his fingers through his hair. He groaned as he took a sip from the wine set on his bedside table. 

"Do you know what I just realized?" At the woman's curious gaze, Breton continued, "I hardly know anything about you other than your name being Estefania Ayala. We should probably try to know each other a bit more, especially if we are going to be much more involved in the other's life." 

"Oh, you want to do this again?" Uncertainty flashed across the woman's face as she fixed her hair. "Um, I do not see the reason why not to continue this relationship as long as people are not aware of it. You see, I'm a schoolteacher, and I do not want my reputation to be sullied." 

"A schoolteacher, eh?" Interest sparked in Breton's eyes as he propped up his head. "Do you also tutor?" 

"Ah, is there something that you need to tell me? A bastard, perhaps?"

A smooth chuckle left Breton's lips as he rolled out of bed and focused on pulling on his crumpled clothes from the day before. 

"Ah, you mistake me, mademoiselle. I am simply asking for a friend of mine. Her son is rather gifted, and she is... not. You see, she can only teach him so much." 

Estefania's brow cocked up at his explanation as she leaned back against the pillows. She glanced over at the bedside table, her eyes lighting up, and leaned over to grab a cigarette. 

"If you find a lighter for me, I will give your request some thought," she offered, her lips spreading into a smile as he acquired one from a drawer. Once it was lit, she raised it to her lips, letting the smoke out in a puff.  

"Well?" 

Estefania's lips spread into a smile as she rose from the bed, heading over to the vanity and mussing up her curls. She looked at him through the mirror and simply said: "The answer is no." 

"May I ask why?" 

"It is very simple. I am tired of snot-nosed children. They are the bane of my existence," she answered, taking another drag from her cigarette. "Now, let's focus on more worldly things, shall we?" 

"I had a feeling that you would say that," he replied, a sardonic smile crossing his face. He straightened his cravat as he walked over to the bedside table, pulling out a wedding band and fixing it on his ring finger. 

Estefania's eyes flicked down to the ring, and her red-painted lips fell open in shock. She jumped to her feet and immediately marched over to her dress. As she began dressing, she angrily threw a glance at Breton and stated, "I did not know that you were married." 

"Ah, is that a problem for you?" 

"Of course, it is! You cannot possibly have me!" she irritably shouted back at him before her eyes glanced at the door. "If this were to ever get out, my reputation would be on the rocks. Dios mío, you are rich, aren't you? Even worse for a rich, married man to bed me..." 

"Ah, but you are not free of sin either, mademoiselle." At Estefania's shocked glance, Breton let out a laugh and pointedly picked up her coin purse. He opened it up and dug through it, unearthing a simple gold band. "Is this not a wedding ring?" 

Blood rushed out of Estefania's face as she whispered, "You snooped through my stuff while I was asleep." She finished dressing before rushing toward him and jabbing a finger in his face. "You don't know anything about me. Bastardo!" 

"Wish to tell me what I do not know, madame?" 

"I was married to an ugly man who was forty-nine years my senior. I remember him like yesterday. Disgusting..." She took a drag from her cigarette as she sat down on the edge of the bed. "I was married at fifteen, and I was aghast at the level of society I found myself in. I was a penniless child and expected to act like a high-bred wife. Alessio grew impatient, and he began to seek for other women. I had his daughter at the age of twenty-one, and though he kept pestering me for a son, I never gave him one. He died when his daughter was six, and I never looked back." 

"Then, why carry around a dead man's ring?" 

"It is a beautiful ring," Estefania remarked as she put out the cigarette on the bedside table. 

"Then, why... have another ring as well? It was in a pocket of your coin purse." 

"That is Alessio's ring." 

"I can tell a woman's ring when I see one. Care to explain that?" As Breton held it up, Estefania's lips pursed in contempt. 

"I am not married yet, monsieur," she stonily said as she extended her hand to grab the ring from Breton and slipped it on her finger. "I am still able to enjoy my youth. After all, I am only thirty-one." 

"Who is going to tell Monsieur Biancarolli that you are not married to him?" He held up her passport for her to see. 

"You... you serpiente impúdica! Me casé con él hace un mes." 

"Watch your words, madame. I might be able to offer you a respite from this issue at hand." 

"What issue?" 

"I could very well tell your husband of your extramarital affair, but I am willing to do a favor for you," Breton answered as he set the remaining ring and passport into the coin purse and handed it over to Estefania. Her eyes glanced down at the purse before tentatively reaching to grab it, only to have her hand snatched by Breton. "However, I will only do it for you if you do a favor for me. Do you understand me, madame?" 

"I could inform your wife as well." 

"Ah, she already knows of my affairs. Now, are you willing to hear me out?" 

Estefania's eyes narrowed as she looked up at Breton. With a heavy sigh, the woman surrendered with a nod. Breton let go of her delicate hand, and he moved to open up the door. 

"Alright, then. I require for you to provide lessons to a young boy. He is ten years of age, and he thirsts for knowledge. If I am given the slightest hint that you are not teaching him, then I will not hesitate to tell Monsieur Biancarolli that you are a whore." 

"Watch your tongue, monsieur!" With that, Estefania raised her nose and picked up her skirts, walking toward the open door. She stopped right before leaving, glancing over her shoulder with a sour look on her face. "I will tutor the boy. Stop by the boarding school in Val-de-Marne in order to talk to me further. How about next Thursday at five in the evening?" 

As soon as Breton had nodded in agreement, Estefania rolled her eyes and rushed out of the apartment building.