~ Vincent ~“Vincent! Hey!” Daniella exclaimed the moment she realized it was I. With her surprised reaction, it didn’t take me long to realize that she was in disbelief.I couldn’t blame her really. Returning to the chateau this early in the middle of our mission was unexpected. Circumstances had me deciding to come back here leaving the others to finish the task, most especially Erik since this mission had something to do with Iopata’s Cloud Blue shipment - his old man’s illegal trails.Of course Erik didn’t like me returning here. If he could put up a tantrum, he would have done so long ago and I tell you, his definition of tantrum meant putting a bullet in a man’s head. But since we are in the same coterie and I am his friend, he couldn’t do it other than giving me a warning glare to stay away from Daniella.I knew that something was up between these two since they returned from Rohan’s session. Unfortunately, t

~ Daniella ~I didn’t have the chance to ask Vincent about the secret rooms during our painting session. He was silent as what an artist should be and I was silent just as what a model should be. It was late afternoon when we finished. It took us five hours all in all, but really a worth-it time as the painting product looked beyond a masterpiece. Well, at least that’s what he voiced out when he showed it to me.He framed it on the spot right after he let me sign my name in the left side, opposite his, and hung it on the Club gallery outside the studio. Right after that, he asked me for another dinner date, but I declined since Suri and I had already made plans to go on another girl bonding time.Vincent and I parted our ways with me feeling the same as before amidst the kiss he gave me earlier. I wouldn’t want our friendship destroyed just because of a moment of oversight in his part.Yes, early in the evening, Sur

The Fancy Pants Club Chateau (Present)~ Daniella ~“You’re...him?!”Was my first expression when I saw the tattoo on Erik’s neck; the tattoo and its details that had lodged in my brain since the incident a year ago. This was the only evidence, or shall I say, remembrance I had after my encounter with my nameless man.But now, as I stared straight into the black spade and red spears, there was no denying the fact that they are one and the same.If only my vision wasn’t a blur that time, I would have known Erik was him by first glance, but it was and my loss of blood complications that time added to the problem that’s why my memory of his face came out fuzzy.With mouth agape, I stared at Erik who had a growing smile on his lips — a smile that I would consider to be a proud one.“Yes, it is me, ” he confirmed as he strode closer

~ Erik ~Suffering.That’s the only word I know since I learnt of my amazing family history.First and foremost, I knew already that my mother was ra*ped by my father. I knew that before she died of childbirth because of hemorrhage complications, she named me Erik. The Dominican nuns raised me in their convent afterwards and all the while I thought I was an orphan. I never knew about my father and his whereabouts, and the nuns weren’t open to discussing the topic.I don’t give a damn about it though.I was content with my life as an innocent errand boy, until my father’s goons came and took me away by force when I was fourteen.I was whisked away to a secluded location and subjected to rows and rows of immense torment my tormentor would call a ‘preparation’ for my eventual life ahead.Mr. Hyde, as what his men mostly called him, taught me how t

~ Daniella ~“Mi hija!”Mrs. Sofia, my family governess, said out aloud with wide eyes once I stepped inside my two-storey modern apartment. Wanting to surprise her, I didn’t use my apartment keys in order to get inside. I let her open the door for me and as expected, I got the right response — with a warm hug that could suffocate the life out of me.“Tia Sofia! Oh my God! You look good!” I stated giving her a once-over when I was able to pull away. I never thought that my month-long absence could change the way I see her. There weren’t many wrinkles in her forehead at all, and the white hair that she used to tie into a bun was now replaced with a vibrant burgundy color in a short bob. She still wore the usual granny clothes though, but it was a welcoming sight for me.“How have you been my child?” was her instant question, disregarding my observation of her.“I’m doing great,” I beamed her a smile.