"Erik Desslar?" the man inquired, wondering if he had heard right. The dark skinned man nodded.
"Yes, you have heard of him?" he inquired. The nobleman nodded his head. Of course, who had not heard of Monsieur Desslar?
"Indeed, he has quite a reputation," he said. The Persian nodded. He knew all to well about Desslar's reputation.
"Do you know where I can find him?" he asked. The nobleman gave him directions and he thanked him before making his way down one of the many Paris streets. The clouds were dark overhead, threatening a storm but people still went about their daily business. Paris was a beautiful city but he missed Persia, his homeland. When his business with Erik Desslar was completed he would be going home the first opportunity he could. Erik had managed to stay out of the Persian's hands many times but not this time.
He was Nadir Khan and he would not allow this man to get away again. Justice would always prevail. The home he came to was one of the wealthier in Paris and he shook his head, Erik always had known how to get what he wanted. A butler answered the door and showed him into an elegant foyer. When the man left Nadir poured himself some brandy and looked around the expensive room with interest. Erik always had good taste.
The door opened but instead of the masked man he expected Nadir was faced with a surprised looking young woman. She pushed the curls away from her face and managed to smile after she got over the initial shock of seeing someone else in the room.
"Oh! I am sorry! I did not know anyone was here!" she apologized. He bowed graciously.
"No need to apologize, Mademoiselle," he assured her. Christine studied the dark skinned man with interest. He was dressed well in black trousers with matching coat and shirt and his black hair slicked back from his bronzed face. He spoke French with a slight accent that she could not place and it interested her. Who was this man?
"Is there something I can help you with?" she wondered. The man studied her.
"No, thank you, I am waiting for the master of the house," he said. Christine's brow rose. He knew Erik? Her husband was always surprising her and this mans appearance was another surprise.
"He is not in at the moment," she said. Nadir sighed in agitation. But in reality he was glad. He had no idea what he was going to do when he was face to face with the masked man.
"Is there something you would like me to tell him when he returns?" she wondered.
"It is a private matter," Nadir informed her. Christine smiled.
"I am sure you could tell his wife, I am very trustworthy," she promised. This statement caused the Persian's eyes to widen in surprise. This woman was Erik's wife? Erik was married. This complicated things immensely but he could still not hide his obvious shock.
"You are Madam Desslar?" he asked. She nodded.
"The one and only," Christine said dryly. He went to her and took her hand, kissing in lightly.
"A pleasure, Madam, I am Nadir Khan," he said. She smiled again.
"Christine Daae Desslar," she answered. Once more he was taken by surprise. Paris was not good for him, to many surprises and he felt like he might have a heart attack.
"Daae? Do you happen to know a Gustave Daae?" he asked.
"Yes, he is my father," she answered. Ah, yes, he could see Emma in this girl. Why had he not seen it before? There was a bitter sweet feeling in his stomach as he gazed at the beautiful woman before him.
"Where are you from, Monsieur Khan?" she wondered, needing to change the subject but also curious to know.
"Persia," he answered with a smile. He liked this girl, he could tell she was a good hearted woman, just like Emma had once been.
"Truly? My mother used to tell me stories of Persia," Christine said. Nadir was sure she had. Both turned as the door opened and Erik walked in, both surprised and angry to see Nadir in his home. The devil had caught up with him.
"You should thank my wife, Khan," Erik murmured. The Persian's body was tense as he watched Erik with caution, knowing never to let his guard down when he was in the same room as this man.
"Indeed, and for what pray tell?" Nadir asked. Erik look was dangerous.
"If she was not in the room you would be dead," he growled, causing Christine to gasp. She watched the two men closely, very much aware of the stiffness of their shoulders. What was going on?
"Your threats are wasted," Nadir said. Erik smiled grimly.
"I believe you know all to well that I always act on what I say," Erik replied.
"Perhaps the two of you would like to explain why you are being so disrespectful to one another?" Christine asked, catching both men by surprise. They had forgotten she was in the room. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she had an expectant look in her eyes.
"Madam, I believe you should move away from him immediately," Nadir informed her. Christine's brow rose in question, glancing at her husband.
"Excuse me?" she said.
"It would be wise to listen," Nadir continued, keeping his eyes on Erik.
"And it would be wise of you to speak with more respect when addressing my wife," Erik hissed. Christine could not believe the hostility that was coming from both men.
"Madam, he is a murderer, do not stand to closely to him," Nadir continued, ignoring Erik's warnings. Christine sighed.
"I know very well what my husband is, Monsieur, as I also know the circumstances behind it," she replied. Erik glanced at her in surprise. She knew? How did she know? Her father! He was stepping out of line; it was not his place, only Erik had the right to tell the story!
"If you know that then how can you stand next to him, I thought you would care about your mother," Nadir said. Christine froze.
"What?" she whispered.
"He killed your mother!" the Persian cried. Erik's roar of outrage echoed throughout the room. His hands were wrapped around the Persian's neck before anyone so much as blinked. Christine cried out as he shoved Nadir against the nearest wall, his hands holding with a death grip.