The Fancy Pants Club — Chapter 45 - 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 bed rest 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 some 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 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 bed rest, 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 evidence - evidence 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 on 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 cleared of any debris, but I can bet there were glowing embers and ashes in it from that time. The ceiling was black as opposed 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, bloodstains 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 evidence 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 at 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 the other Fancy Pants Club members and I 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 at 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.

Fancy Pants Epilogue

~ Daniella ~

“Come guys! It is a group picture now!” Standing beside the podium, I shouted, straining my voice enough so that all Fancy Pants members could hear. Hired by Suri and Amano to be their wedding event coordinator, I had contacted a famous photographer in L.A. to capture the video and photos during the private event. The line-up of picture taking starting from the small entourage, parents, and relatives had just finished. Now, it was the Club’s turn.

Vincent, Karl, and Alec were already in the dais, congratulating the newlyweds while Enrique was busily talking to one bridesmaid who was Suri’s distant cousin.

Erik was sitting in one of the front pews in the chateau chapel, silent and rather too relaxed. Of all of the members, he was the one who hadn’t stood up and expressed his greetings. Well, at least not yet as Suri and Amano had been continuously surrounded by the jovial crowd.

I straightened and rested a hand on my waist, one Jimmy Choo-wearing foot forward, while I gave him a raised brow, silently sending him signals of lifting his butt off the wooden seat. He ghosted a smirk then and stood up with his debonair aura clothed in the latest Armani suit.

“Yes! I’ve been waiting for this!” exclaimed Alec who I didn’t even notice was already standing beside me.

“Come here Dani,” he stated giving me a cheeky grin. He pulled me in by the shoulder and pressed us side by side.

I would have given him a slight playful nudge had it not for Erik’s sudden interruption. He shoved Alec aside and inserted himself in between us.

“Ah Prez!” Alec shot him a confused, pouting look.

“You stand together with Karl, Alec,” muttered Erik with a clear glare on his way.

“But Prez, I want to stand next to Daniella!” I heard him complain. I had to keep myself from giggling as I watched their little argument.

I bent a little to see Erik’s reaction and true enough, it was what I expected. He glared even more - exactly his signature don’t-mess-with-me look - towards his Make-up and Prosthetics Expert.

Alec looked defeated. He raised his hands up and stepped inches away rather comically. “Okay, okay. Karl it is then,” he sputtered.

Everyone lined up in their chosen places. Amano and Suri were a stair down from us, right in the middle. I, wearing a floor-sweeping Venus cut light pink dress, stood directly above them and being towered over in between Erik and Vincent. Enrique dashingly stood beside him, in the far right. Alec, although disappointed, stood next to Erik, and followed by Karl.

It would have been a better scene if Rohan was around. I had to breathe hard to free myself from the heavy burden in my chest when his memory crossed my mind.

I knew that in every Club member, that was what they were thinking, but at least this joyous occasion reduced that sadness a bit. It has been a month since his death. Each day was difficult, but the Club members helped each other cope with the loss.

Under the Fancy Pants Club supervision, the Le Château de Esclavette’s daily operation returned. ISA had stated that the Club had served its purpose well and for this, the members were given a chance to choose their own future endeavors in life, be it to continue being an undercover agent, or to proceed with a normal civilian danger-free life.

Amano and Suri, of course, had chosen the latter. To build a family was what they have dreamed ever since. Alec, Enrique, and Karl decided to serve ISA further, preferring to stay in the chateau while there were no operations being done yet, while Vincent, he stated he will have to lay low on being a Tactical Operation’s Specialist as of the moment, citing that he needed to take care of some ‘matters.’

Erik, on the other hand, was left to care for the chateau. Since his battle with his family and Iopata had ended, he decided to make himself my personal bodyguard/master/lover - until such time we wed of course. As the President, he had appointed me as the Head of Public Affairs of the Club and by that, I meant the head of all fancy parties being held inside the chateau. Since the renovation of the President’s Hall and the return of operations, invites, expression of interests, rents, and guests of the chateau had skyrocketed. My mother was more than happy to assist me through the Rosecraft Weddings and Events Company.

She told me the truth by the way, of how she first met Erik and how he asked for my hand in marriage in the middle of the busy California airport terminal. She was all thumbs up and giddy at the same time, demanding us immediately for many, many, many grandchildren and as a result, Erik seduced me into bed many, many, many times. A football team of Little Eriks and Little Daniellas roaming around the chateau gardens, that’s what he told me. And yeah, I had to agree with that else he’d make me even sore than I am.

“Hey, show some teeth,” I stated just as I nudged Erik in the ribs. His firm expression reminded me of how I will have a hard time teaching my Little Eriks on how to smile. Surely, they would inherit their father’s rude and edgy side.

“Hmm, I’m showing it,” he replied, looking down at me.

I twisted my lips playfully and narrowed my eyes. “Wider Mr. President.”

He did, about a millimeter more.

“Wider,” I added again, not content with how constipated it looked.

For a moment, he battled between giving in and spouting at me, but then he smiled so widely I had to blink a couple of times.

“Yes, that’s better,” I remarked, nodding my head, pleased.

But then his beaming smile turned into a grin in a heartbeat.

“Come here,” he said and then pulled me close by the waist.

“Erik!” I exclaimed, putting my palms up against his chest.

Much to my distress and embarrassment, he launched himself down and kissed me. I didn’t have time to push him away (nor do I want to in the first place) when he slipped a hot, wet tongue inside my mouth.

Naturally, I gave in and reciprocated. Our tongues dueled probably for just a few seconds yet it felt like we had been lip-locking for hours.

“Okay smile!” Somewhere in the front, the photographer shouted.

In response, Erik loosened his grip on me and stopped our kiss. I saw him smile a genuine wide smile to the photographer just as I showed mine in a blushing daze.

Five snaps followed all the while his arm was around my bare shoulder. When the photographer gestured his thumb up, I pulled myself a little and looked at Erik with a frown.

“Goodness, why did you do that?” I asked, feeling like we stole half of the wedding guests’ attention on us.

“I want to see you all flushed up in the picture,” was Erik’s simple remark.

What?!

Although feeling flustered about what he did, I instead gave him a smile and another nudge in his ribs. “Then, I believe you were successful Mr. President.”

He grinned at me and then leaned in to peck on my forehead.

“Hey, get a room you two,” complained Vincent who noticed our little bubble of teasing.

“Oh, we will Vincent,” I heard Erik say whilst hooking an arm around my waist. That just got me even redder.

“Don’t mind him, Vince. He is just too jealous of Suri and Amano now,” I stated, shaking my head and glancing briefly at the two who were again congratulated by their many well-wishers.

“Yes, come to think of it. When will be your wedding?” Vincent asked, looking back and forth on me and Erik.

“Don’t ask me,” I shrugged, “Ask him,” and pointed my eyes on my fiancé.

Both Vincent and I gave Erik an expectant face.

“What?” he stated, acting clueless.

Hmmm, as if he can fool me, I giggled at myself.

“Your wedding Prez, when is it?” Vincent inquired.

Erik looked at me first, giving me his appreciative, twinkling eyes and then back to Vincent. “As soon as possible once you start playing the violin again,” he answered swiftly, obtaining a quick blink from me.

“Ah yes! I haven’t heard you play it since that time in the balcony Vince,” I interjected.

Vincent blushed momentarily and directed his eyes down on the floor. “Don’t worry, it won’t be long,” he murmured. “I have...an inspiration now.”

“A woman perhaps?” Erik quickly hinted.

The latter didn’t show any sign of refusal at all that I had to arch my brows.

“More like it. Her...her name is Eren,” he answered, looking back at Erik.

“Like the Eren in your violin composition title?” I butted in, awed by this little but excellent piece of information. The name made me remember that time in the balcony where he played the violin like he was playing in front of a Goddess in the night sky. It was one of the best memories I had with him.

“Yes, Daniella. I’m surprised you remembered it.” Vincent smiled at me.

“Oh, of course, I would. As I said, it is a beautiful piece,” I smiled back with no malice at all.

“Then, I suggest you be quick Mr. VP,” Erik stated. “I don’t want any other violinist playing on mine and Daniella’s wedding aside from you.”

I nodded at this.

“Huh, you are inflating my lungs Prez,” Vincent proclaimed.

“Good luck on courting her Vince,” I said and then winked at him.

He smiled a lot wider this time. His eyes mellowed and warmth radiated from it. It was as if he was thinking of the lucky woman right then and there.

“Hey, Vicente! Come here!” called out Enrique suddenly, cutting our conversation. He stood at the bottom of the stairs with two women with him. One was the bridesmaid earlier while the other was a beautiful half-Asian, half-foreign woman who I have just seen.

“I should go there,” Vincent informed as he turned to us.

“Go ahead,” Erik answered with a nod. I shooed him off too by flipping my hand and giving him a cheeky grin. Not that I am acting like a matchmaker, but I have a big gut feeling this new woman with Enrique was the one for Vincent.

“Daniella.”

My attention on the said woman was abruptly cut off by Erik’s voice. I looked back at him and raised a brow, confused.

“Come with me.”

Leading the way, he held my right hand tightly and pulled me down the dais.

“Hmmm, we are not going to your room now, are we?” I teased, giving his delicious broad back a quick study.

He stopped just as we were at the base of the stairs and pulled me chest to chest.

“No, but that will be next after we go to the art gallery,” he stated with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Art gallery?” I asked, ignoring the sexual insinuation in his words. “Why there?”

“There is something I want to show you.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and grinned. “Hmmm, I wonder what.”

Hand in hand, we trekked up the second floor east wing where the art gallery, Colores Imaginarios, was located. The place looked the same when I first entered some months ago. Nothing had changed at all. There were still frames after frames of paintings made by the Club members hung on every wall and dividers.

Silently, Erik led me to a space a few feet away from Vincent’s studio door. I gasped when I saw a painting that was hung on a white-gold wall. It was his creation, the one painting that he did in his entire life that looked like a cross between a pineapple and my face.

“Oh, Erik, you framed it!” I shouted, embracing him with all my might.

I heard his throaty chuckle then before answering, “Yes, I did and I asked Vincent to hang it here.”

“Then this would be your first ever art donation to this gallery?” I pressed my forehead on the crook of his neck and examined the painting again, smiling from ear to ear thinking of the fond memories it bestowed.

“Yes, it would,” he answered, holding me in place by the shoulder.

“Hmmm, Erik, why did you paint me like this by the way? Why a pineapple?”

Although I already knew the answer, I just had to ask again.

“I told you didn’t I?” His finger curled under my chin and lifted my face up. “Your attitude and the pineapple fruit are the same - prickly.”

I pouted at him. In response, he grazed a thumb on my bottom lip and smirked.

“But I painted you like this because I was very jealous of Enrique and Vincent that time,” he continued. “They had your attention. I hated it.”

This made my heart flutter.

“Hmmm, what are the odds, the President, jealous,” I teased.

His playful gaze turned stormy - filled with combined lust, desire, and love.

“I have always been jealous, Daniella. It is just that my rudeness covers it well. I loved you since the first time we met in the vineyard. I have never forgotten about you since then.”

“Oh, Erik...” I lifted my hands up and traced his jawline. He let me, but I felt his other hand press tighter on my shoulder, drawing me in even more.

“Then, we feel the same way,” I added, planting a chaste kiss on his jaw.

This didn’t seem to satisfy him because he swiftly swooped down and captured my mouth for a heady, soul-searching kiss.

Time and tide we have kissed and expressed our feelings for each other. Who would have known that a simple but dangerous collision in a French vineyard under an orange and violet dawn sky would yield to this kind of love. We may have undergone numerous battles during the process, but it was worth it in the end.

“Hey, remember you once asked me where I like to go for a vacation?” I stated once we regained our breathing.

Erik nodded and eyed me expectantly. “Yes, have you decided now?”

“Yup, I would like to go to France. In my family’s vineyard where we first met,” was my sure answer. I had thought of Hawaii, Coron, and the Bahamas, but I believe the vineyard would be my best choice ever.

Erik seemed to agree with this for he smiled and answered before devouring my mouth again, “Then we shall, my Sweet Daniella.”

The End.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading, my dear readers. Join my Facebook Group, JMFelic Awesome Readers, for updates regarding my books. Take care! ^_^