* Edited *
Monica and Grace slowly make their way down the long corridor, cautiously making sure to be quiet. Monica glances to Grace every few seconds, feeling the need to mention the issue they faced with the length of Grace’s wedding dress.
It was continuously getting in the way for poor Grace, she kept stepping on the bottom of it, and was clearly becoming annoyed by it. Suddenly, she stops and crouches down with hands pulling at the bottom of the dress forcefully. It tears easily until Grace has removed a decent amount of it. By the time she has finished, the dress reaches just above her ankles, giving her more movement without the risk of tripping over the damn thing.
Monica grins in approval, glad to know that they were now thinking the same way. Grace’s survival was the number one priority for the two of them. Her life held weight Monica’s did not. Or at least, that’s how Monica felt.
She pulls Grace to her feet before leading her down the corridor once more. They move quickly and quietly together until they unexpectedly come upon two doors opposite one another. Meanwhile, ahead of them was a concrete wall.
Fuck.
They would have to choose a door and hope for the best.
Grace sighs deeply beside Monica, unsure how to truly feel in this moment. She genuinely didn’t feel like she had the time to process all her feelings. Everything had escalated way to quickly for her liking and honestly, she had more questions than answers. It all just felt a little too overwhelming for her.
“Which one?” Grace asks anxiously as she glances between the two doors.
“I don’t know. What do you think?” Monica shrugs, unsure herself.
“Let’s try the right door. I have a better feeling about that one.” Grace says with an optimistic look in her ocean blues eyes.
“Okay,” Monica agrees with a nod before following Grace as she turns the doorknob and steps out into one of the many hallways of the Le Domas Mansion. They step out silently while closing the door behind them without a word uttered. For a moment, they have hope.
Hope that disappears the moment a beam of light lands upon them, sourced from the flashlight in the aunts hand.
“Found them.” Daniel says with a hint of sadness seeping into his voice.
He meets Monica’s gaze for only a second before her gaze hardens and she grabs Grace’s hand. She turns quickly with Grace just in front. Only, Emilie steps out just in front of the two women and immediately lifts her pistol, aiming it at the two of them.
Daniel steps forward instinctively with discreet concern, helplessly watching as Monica pushes Grace down and out of the path of the oncoming bullets without a thought for her own safety. He jumps back and lands on the floor as some of the bullets come flying towards him, his aunt and his father.
When he eventually looks back towards his sister; Grace and Monica are gone and out of sight. Seemingly having ran off during the chaos of his sister’s erratic gun fire. Thank god.
He frowns while standing slowly once more, his gaze locking in on the few drops of blood on the floor. His head tilts a fraction as he glances to his family members, searching them for any sign that they had been hit whilst his father yells at his useless sister. Though, to his disappointment, neither he nor them appeared to be injured. Which meant only one thing, Monica or Grace had been hit.
That thought strikes something deep within him, triggering something sharp and painful to shoot through his aching heart. He can’t pinpoint exactly what it is but he has an inkling that its one of five things: fear, regret, concern, worry and increasing guilt.
Its all clashing within him; tearing his heart and his tattered soul apart from the inside out. He hadn’t wanted any part of this and yet here he stood, assisting his family. It felt wrong but he had no choice. He couldn’t lose them for two women he had simply grown fond of.
So, with head hung low, he returns to the task at hand, leaving his emotions to fade back into his deep dark depths.
Meanwhile, further away, Monica and Grace run down the hall before turning into a large room they quickly identified as the study.
Monica clutches her arm as she does so, feeling the burning around her wound and the warm blood trickling down her arm. “Check the phone.” she whispers to Grace as she runs over and tries to pry open the windows, though to no avail. They were locked and sealed tight. They definitely weren’t budging anytime soon, which meant that Alex had been right; the house was on full lockdown.
Fuck.
“Nothing. Shit!” Grace puts the phone down carefully and whisper shouts in frustration.
She glances to her friends bleeding arm and rushes over, now only noticing that she had been hit by the bullet. “It’s fine, really. It's just a graze.” Monica whispers with a reassuring smile. She honestly wasn’t completely sure that it was a graze, but right now she didn’t care about her wound. She just needed to get Grace out of here and to safety.
Monica slowly walks over to the chair in front of the study desk and lifts it above her head, ready to throw it against the window in a bid to break the damn thing and give the two of them an escape route.
However, she stills at the small flashlight she catches sight of down the hall. Silently and carefully she places the chair back in its place and sneaks back over towards the wall, pulling Grace with her.
The two of them press themselves against the wall beside the door as closely as possible, all the while trembling with fear. Monica was honestly in more pain than she cared to admit, she needed to bandage her wound before the blood began falling to the floor. The last thing they needed right now was to leave a trail of blood wherever they went.
The door beside them opens suddenly and in walks Daniel, looking utterly awful. He stops just in the doorway, still holding onto the door and clearly as shocked to see them as they were to see him.
His eyes trail from a heavily breathing Grace, to an injured Monica. He frowns at the blood tricking down her arm and the clear bullet wound decorating it. Realisation dawns on him; she had been the one hit by one of the bullets.
He takes a subconscious step towards her only for her to take a cautious step back. She was scared of him. In this moment, he was her enemy and that alone broke his heart. He didn’t want to be the bad guy, to be the man to implement fear into her. He didn’t want to hurt her, he wasn’t even sure he could.
He drops his head shamefully and walks past them, making sure to close the door as he does so. He walks over to the pool table and scoops up the bottle of bourbon sat atop it, fully aware that both women were watching him anxiously.
Monica could feel it. That inner conflict was growing stronger as her beliefs in him took home in her heart. She couldn’t see him as a monster or as the enemy because to her, he had always been a friend; a source of comfort and security. Tonight, hadn’t changed that in some ways, though she couldn’t stop herself from being cautious around him in this moment.
She couldn’t help it because her body’s natural instinct was to shy away from him and his family. Perhaps because mentally she knew she had to be on guard at all times tonight. No matter how much her heart yearned to be near to him.
“I just came to get a drink.” he mumbles as he walks over to the desk and places the bottle on it with a deep, conflicted sigh. He didn’t want to turn them in. He shouldn’t have to, but he does. “I have to call the others,” he says as he looks over at both women shamefully.
Grace shakes her head quickly with tears pooling in her eyes whilst Monica just stares at him with an unreadable expression. She could see his own inner conflict, his own pain and sadness in this moment. She could see straight through him. She wanted to take it away - to make it all better for him and save him from himself and his shitty family. But, she can’t.
“No, you don’t.” Grace whispers with head shaking and breathing heavy as adrenaline runs through her veins. She could see how much Daniel hated this. How much he hated seeing her friend in this position. She was sure he would do anything for Monica. “You can help us, please.” she pleads desperately.
He sighs heavily and pours a glass of bourbon. “This doesn’t end well for either of you. I just don’t want to be the one to serve you up.” he says whilst keeping his head down and avoiding looking at them. The words felt heavy on his tongue. It was ripping him apart internally to act this way and say these things to them.
“Daniel, I'm begging you.” tears build up in Grace’s eyes as she speaks. Fear consumed her as she begged her brother in law to help them.
“I’m really sorry about all this. It's true what they say; the rich really are different.” He looks up at the painting of his father up on the wall above the fireplace opposite him.
Monica could feel a pang of pain shoot through her heart at the sight of unshed tears welling in his beautiful hazel eyes. Right now, she could see how truly broken he was. “I’ll give you a ten second head start.” he tells them.
“Daniel.” Grace tries once more with tears now falling down her cheeks. She was losing hope.
“One, one thousand...” he begins counting.
Monica turns to Grace quickly, “Go.” she whispers.
“What about you?”
“I’ll slow them down. If they have me then they will be distracted long enough for you to get where you need to be.” Monica tells her pointedly, referring to the kitchen where Grace is to meet with Alex. “It'll be okay. I promise.” she smiles reassuringly before urging Grace to go.
Which, after a long drawn out moment and against her own desire, Grace does as encouraged, leaving the room swiftly.
Monica drops her head for a moment before turning to Daniel. She frowns upon seeing him stood in the same spot with his head tilted down and his eyes closed tightly.
He looked so... broken.
So, cautiously she walks over to him and removes the glass from his hand while grateful that he allows her to. Then, with a heaviness in her chest, she moves to step back from him, only before he can, his hand reaches out to catch her wrist.
She watches with heart racing as his eyes peel open and meet with her tearful green ones. They stand for a moment, their eyes silently sharing their emotions with one another while that magnetic pull continues to exist between them, drawing them closer.
Monica can feel that familiar feeling of comfort and security begin to wash over her like a tidal wave, rising goose bumps along her arms. She felt safe with him in a way she couldn’t truly explain. His touch held power over her, a power she willingly allowed him to maintain.
So, she remains still and calm when he unexpectedly reaches down and rips a piece of the fabric from her purple dress. She watches with curious eyes as he wordlessly bandages her arm up with it, his movements gentle and tender.
Then, he leans down tentatively to place a soft kiss upon it, much like a loved one would to a child’s injury. He pulls back and drops his gaze to the floor once more, feeling utterly conflicted over what to do.
He doesn’t want to turn her in. He can’t bear the thought of losing her but he also couldn’t bear the burden of potentially allowing his family to die if the stories of Mr Le Bail are true.
Either way, no matter what choice he makes, he’s fucked.
His eyes glass over with more tears he refuses to allow fall, causing Monica to tenderly reach up, placing her warm hand against his cheek. Her thumb caresses his cheekbone lovingly while her own eyes glint with tears, unable to appear as strong as she yearned to in this moment.
She smiles softly when his head tilts to the side, leaning into her touch with pained hazel eyes falling closed. “It’s going to be okay,” she murmurs soothingly.
“Why couldn’t you just stay out of all this?”
“Grace is all I have.”
He pulls back and shakes his head in protest, leaving her heart aching painfully. “No, she isn’t.” he disagrees with lips forming a deep frown. Then, with guilt rising in his eyes and breathing growing noticeably heavy, he does the one thing she hadn’t expected. The one thing sure to tear her hope from her. He calls out to his deranged family. “They’re in the study!”
Monica’s heart shatters on the spot as her eyes soften with absolute betrayal and hurt. She shakes her head in disbelief of his words, feeling utterly foolish.
She never should have believed in him or their close bond. She never should have placed her trust in him or convinced herself that he cared for her the way he had once upon a time claimed. She was foolish for believing he had good within him because right now, he had proved to be the complete opposite.
She feels her cheeks dampen with fresh tears as she backs away from him slowly, no longer able to be close to him in this heart-breaking moment. He had betrayed her trust in him. He had basically just handed her over willingly to his family.
It was breaking her apart and Daniel could see it. His hazel eyes softened with regret the moment he saw the flicker of betrayal and hurt in her emerald eyes. He couldn’t stand it and so, with a quiet “fuck,” muttered under his breath, he rushed towards her.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes out with hands taking a hold of her unwounded arm and pulling her gently towards the desk he’d been stood beside earlier. Then, with hands urging her to hide beneath it until she is out of sight, he leans back. “Please, just stay here.” he pleads before attempting to move away altogether.
Only, before he can, Monica reaches out, taking his face in her trembling hands instinctively and pressing her lips to his own soft ones. She moves with passion, allowing all she feels for him to pour into the kiss they share. Then, with breathing heavy and lips tipping up into a shy smile, she pulls back and allows her green eyes to meet with his shocked and confused hazel ones.
“Just in case,” she half shrugs with a saddening smile.
Daniel nods with heart skipping a subtle beat and lips tingling with the residual sensation of her lips having been upon his. He smiles softly before clearing his throat, unsure what to say or do in this moment.
Though the second he hears approaching footsteps, he moves instinctively. He shuffles back while pulling himself to stand, his hands reaching to move the chair in front of her so that she remained out of sight. Then, with a heavy sigh, he seats himself in it while reaching for his glass of bourbon, unable to resist the urge to bring it to his lips as Charity runs into the room with gun in hand.
Unaware that his actions in that moment had given Monica something she had been lacking. Something she had needed reignited within her.
Hope.
For the first time tonight, she had real hope of making it out of this place alive. And all that hope rested on one man: Daniel Le Domas.
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