The Golden Chain
by Abelard

part 5

The hit came on a Wednesday. Sonny had been half-expecting it, but later he admitted to himself he'd been lulled into a sense of security by being five time zones away from his enemies. Luckily, Alexis's people had gotten more paranoid as Sonny had become more relaxed. Her bodyguards shot down the assassins as they were ascending one of the staircases in the Cassadine mansion.

Two men. Sonny recognized them as Joey Capra's, from the Bronx. Jesus, even the New York families were determined to sink him. Capra's guys carried knives, not guns. It was meant to be a silent kill.

Raleigh lost his mind over it. "The Princess was in the gravest possible danger!" he ranted at the top of his lungs when the advisors gathered together in their velvet dressing robes at three a.m. "This man is luring murderers into her private quarters!" He pointed fiercely at Sonny.

"Relax, Hunter," said Alexis tiredly. She spoke calmly, but Sonny could tell she was shaken. The staircase on which the men had been shot led directly to Kristina's rooms. "We knew the Atlantic was only a temporary buffer. Menshikov," she said casually, over her shoulder, knowing her ancient right-hand would step forward, "please be sure to reward our men in the morning." Menshikov nodded, though it was unseen by Alexis.

Alexis dismissed her group abruptly, with orders to investigate how the killers gained entrance to the house and to triple security before Friday's ball. Raleigh glowered at Sonny as he exited, but Sonny didn't leave. When he was alone with Alexis, Sonny said softly, "I'll leave when the sun rises."

"No, don't," she said instantly. "Your only chance is with us."

"They know I'm here. I'm putting you and Kristina in danger." Sonny sucked in his breath, furious that he'd brought his war to them.

"We'll all leave London on Saturday, right after the ball. I only intended to be here for a few weeks, anyway. We'll go to the main house. It'll be a thousand times harder for them to get at you there."

"The main house? On your island?" asked Sonny.

"No. The island was a modern outpost," Alexis answered. "I'm talking about the palace in Moscow."

****

The next day proved to be a marathon for everyone. The servants and several of the advisors worked from dawn till midnight preparing the house for the ball. From what Sonny could tell, the party that Alexis described as a small gathering was in fact an event involving hundreds of important guests. Another group of advisors worked with the security staff to find out how their defenses had been penetrated the night before. They made arrangements to fly in additional henchman from the Cassadine's Parisian estate. The rest of the advisors worked with Alexis to bring their London business to a conclusion. The meeting schedule was extended to well past eleven p.m. Visitors from their Irish and Welsh holdings were still streaming in at nine.

Sonny had never felt so frustrated in his life. The hit meant that his opposition was growing, gaining in strength and numbers. He was well aware that no man in his position had ever survived such a force as the one aligned against him. But his own life was the least of his anxiety. He'd run from Port Charles thinking he'd keep his family - Carly and Michael - safe that way, but he'd inadvertently made Alexis and Kristina subject to the greatest danger.

Sonny sat in on the long day and night of discussions alongside Alexis and the advisors. He could scarcely believe how efficiently Alexis and her team moved through their extended schedule on less than two hours of sleep. When he mentioned as much to Alexis, she laughed a bit and said, "You probably didn't sleep at all last night." It was true; Sonny said nothing.

He followed Alexis up the stairs, past the blood stains on the invaluable 18th century carpets left by the assassins. They both went directly to Kristina's room. Their little girl was asleep and dreaming. Alexis leaned against the doorframe of her bedroom, and Sonny put his hands on Alexis's shoulders. Together, they gazed at their sleeping daughter.

"She's just like you," Alexis whispered, smiling.

"Do you think so?" Sonny asked, although he had noticed dozens of similarities himself over the previous ten days.

"Every time she gets really angry or stubborn, and I wonder what to do about her, I only have to ask myself, 'What would I do if Sonny were being like this?' And then I know how to handle her," Alexis said.

"And what, exactly, do you do to 'handle' my stubbornness?" Sonny asked. He was inordinately pleased at the thought that Alexis had thought of him during the years they'd spent apart. He was glad Kristina had served to remind Alexis of him. In a way, he was envious, too. Sonny had had nothing to remind him of Alexis when she'd gone.

"Oh no, mister. You're not getting my secret out of me." Alexis put her hand briefly over his, where it rested on her shoulder. Sonny hoped she'd hold it for a moment, but she only tapped it lightly and said, "Good night, Sonny. It's been an exhausting day, and tomorrow will be even longer."

Sonny and Alexis left Kristina's suite, nodding to the bodyguards now stationed in her sitting room as they departed. Alexis headed off in the direction of her rooms and Sonny took a different set of corridors to his. He found Raleigh standing in his antechamber, waiting for him.

"You've caused Her Highness more than enough trouble," Raleigh said with even more disdain than usual. "I've come to ask you to go quietly, now, before the Princess can talk you out of it. I don't know why she agreed to take you in to begin with. You, a common criminal, and the man who was responsible for the death her own sister," the Brit sneered. "But I'd heard you were friends with her once, and she decided to honor the bond of that friendship, even though it was long expired. And you repay her by bringing men armed with knives into her home, nearly to the threshold of her daughter's bedroom!"

Sonny charged the man and shoved him up against the wall, his forearm pressing hard against Raleigh's windpipe. "Don't you talk to me about her daughter! I know what could have happened!"

"Then why are you still here?" Raleigh choked out, while struggling against Sonny's grip. "You don't even deserve to breathe the same air as she does. How dare you put her life at risk!" Raleigh managed to finally shove Sonny off of him and the two men scuffled briefly. Sonny punched him in the gut; when Raleigh would have delivered a blow to Sonny's jaw, Menshikov suddenly appeared.

"If you strike His Highness, I'll dismiss you immediately," the Vizier said stoically. "You may not be a royal subject, but I'll consider it treason just the same."

Sonny and Raleigh released each other. Raleigh, breathing hard, shouted at the elderly Russian, "Why the hell did you insist that she marry this, this *cretin*?! How could you have let him near her, Menshikov?" Raleigh's face was contorted in anger, and something else that Sonny noticed: Pain. Grief.

Menshikov stood as still as a stone sculpture. He was the picture of self-possession, contrasting sharply with the young Englishman's bluster and fury. "The answer to that is simple, Mr. Raleigh. I arranged it so that she could not marry you."

Raleigh appeared frozen with surprise momentarily, then with an enraged expletive, he half-walked, half-ran out of Sonny's room.

Sonny would have smiled at Raleigh's shame, but he was too stunned by Menshikov's words. "That the truth?" Sonny asked the old man.

"May I have a scotch?" Menshikov asked in return. He seated himself in one of the heavily brocaded velvet armchairs while Sonny took out two glasses and poured.

"I can't get anyone to bring me ice for this stuff," Sonny said apologetically.

"That's because it is not meant to be poured over ice, Sir," replied Menshikov. "Scotsmen have drunk their barley whisky at room temperature for all the ages of time."

Sonny nodded and took a seat opposite the Russian. The two men raised their glasses in a silent toast and drank. Sonny sensed that the old man would speak when he was ready, and after Menshikov relished the taste of the liquor on his tongue for several moments, he began.

"Hunter Raleigh is a bright, wealthy aristocrat who joined our group three years ago," said Menshikov. "He has the proper heritage and education to make a good match, and I knew from the moment he appeared that he meant to press his suit with Her Highness. He's managed to gain a measure of her trust. I'm aware he makes every effort to meet with her privately. In another few months, a year perhaps, he may have convinced her that he was worthy enough of her…more personal attention."

"But you didn't approve of him as the future Prince?" prompted Sonny.

"Let us say simply that the Cassadine empire has tolerated more than its share of foolish, unwise Princes. Her Highnesses' consort would have access to a quantity and quality of power that only a very few men can handle well."

"Then why did you want me to step in and marry her?" Sonny asked, still puzzled. "Was I just convenient? When my people called yours, was I just an easy way to stop Raleigh in his tracks?"

"No, and I'm insulted you think I would be haphazard in my strategy," the Russian sniffed. "I've known about you for a very long time, Sir. I've watched your situation carefully. When your enemies began to rise up against you, I knew that eventually someone in your organization would think to reach out to us. I determined early on to secure your marriage to Her Highness as soon as that event occurred."

"But why?" Sonny pressed.

"Several reasons. Despite your unsavory profession, I believed you had the qualities that would be necessary in her consort - intelligence, cunning, the ability to lead. And despite your break with the Princess, I knew that at some point, the two of you had once been closely connected. Her Highness does not give her trust lightly; I felt certain that there was a chance your friendship could be resuscitated. And then," Menshikov said slowly and deliberately, "there is the simple fact that her daughter is your daughter."

Sonny sputtered as he choked on his scotch. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his silk robe and frowned at the Vizier. "How did you know?"

"It is my duty to know. That is how. And now, you must answer some questions of mine. You have spent ten days with the Princess. How does she feel about you?"

Sonny shook his head. "I have no idea." He had never, ever known how Alexis felt about him, at any point in time.

"How do you feel about the Princess?"

Sonny considered how to answer. After a few seconds he said, "I have always felt tremendous admiration and respect for her."

Menshikov nodded. "I take that to mean you have no idea what your feelings are towards her. And how do you feel about Caroline Benson Corinthos, Sir?"

Just two weeks before, if anyone had asked him how he felt about Carly, Sonny would have said that he loved her and they had a terrific marriage. He would have given the answer without thinking, automatically. But as he searched his mind now for the answer to the Russian's question, he realized there wasn't any easy response waiting to be said.

He shrugged. "I wish I knew."

"Well then," Menshikov said as he stood, "you must decide. You will have to choose either to return to Mrs. Corinthos, or to stay here as the Prince of one of the oldest royal families in Europe, and one of the wealthiest families in the world."

Sonny laughed bitterly. "Is it even an option to stay? I don't know that my wife would even begin to consider that possibility."

"You don't know that she wouldn't," Menshikov said cryptically, and took his leave.

part 6