Sonny
buttoned his shirt and rolled down his sleeves decisively. He glanced
at Nikolas and his wife. “You two work on the list of everyone
who works on the estate; I’m gonna go to Luke’s and find
out what he can tell us.”
“Sonny, it’s like two in the morning,” Emily reminded
him.
“Yeah, but Luke doesn’t sleep,” he replied. “Plus,
I just can’t stay here waiting. I gotta do something to keep
myself busy. So I’m going.”
“Well, I’m going, too,” came the voice of Alexis
as she walked down the stairs to them now. Sonny looked at her startled.
She was dressed in a pair of close fitting jeans, a tan sweater,
and matching boots. Her hair was brushed back into a ponytail. She
looked beautiful and painfully vulnerable all at the same time.
More importantly, she looked ready for an outing instead of the
night of sleep she so desperately needed.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” Sonny demanded when she
had walked to his side.
“I can’t sleep with her gone,” she said simply. “I
need something to do, too. So I’m coming with you.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Sonny told her firmly.
“On this, I agree with Sonny, Alexis,” Nikolas chimed
in. “We don’t know whether Helena will try to get to you
as well.”
“I think it’s a safe bet she gets more mileage from leaving
me here to wonder if my child’s alive.”
“You’re still safer at Wyndemere,” Sonny reiterated.
“Nikolas is here and I’ve already got four of my men,
plus Johnny, patrolling the island.”
Nikolas arched one regal eyebrow. He hadn’t known Sonny had
called in his firepower already.
Sonny knew she wasn’t going to give up; Alexis rarely conceded,
but he kept pressing her anyway. “Come on, Lex, I need you
to stay here and oversee my men while they check the movements of
the staff. I need--”
“Nice try,” Alexis cut in. “But you and I both know
your men don’t need my supervision. Meanwhile I need to be
involved in finding my daughter. Enough said. Let’s go.”
And with that she veered around, crossed the room and grabbed her
coat from the rack by the door. “Yours is upstairs on my carpet,
Sonny. Go get it. I’ll wait.”
He sighed, exasperated, but went to do as she said. But as he mounted
the stairs, a smile played around his lips again. A fighter she
was. This was the Alexis he knew…and loved.
Yuri brushed the curly tendrils of Kristina’s hair with one
finger. She was truly beautiful, this child. Innocent and peaceful
in her sleep. He watched her pop her thumb into her mouth and roll
onto her side, curling into a fetal position. It brought him memories
of watching his own children as they slept.
He had worked for Helena for many years, since he was first married.
Mostly he worked on her properties, manning the stables while spying
on her family members, keeping her informed of all the goings on.
Yes, he had at times done things for her that had been ugly, things
he could spend lifetimes in prison for. But he had only been asked
to shed blood once: when her enemy had been a long lost family member
who had tried to wrest control of the fortune from her after Mikkos
had died. That man had been as twisted as Helena; he was no loss
to anyone.
So Yuri had felt no guilt, saw no blood on his hands. He had gone
home that night to his wife and children hundreds of thousands of
dollars richer. And that money had kept his family out of Russia
and had placated some very ruthless men to whom he owed very substantial
debts.
But he had always drawn the line at harming a woman or a child.
He closed his tired burning eyes now and remembered every facet
of Helena’s nefarious instructions: “Mail the tape first
so Corinthos gets his message. Then use the computer to transmit
the email exactly as I have detailed. Enter Wyndemere through the
catacombs into the Great Room. Drug Alexis so that she cannot fight.
Take the child. Deliver her to my assistant Johan; he will conduct
her to me. Then you must return to the stables and act as if nothing
is amiss. You will continue to be my eyes and ears there.”
“But what will you do with the child?”
“That’s not your affair, is it? You certainly have never
asked after my plans before this.”
“I-I just wondered what you had in mind, ma’am…”
“Could it be you still have a soft spot for my bastard stepdaughter?
I noticed how you would smile at her back when we were all on the
island in Greece. Shall I tell your wife of your crush?”
“No, ma’am, it was not Ms. Alexis in my thoughts. It was
just that I—well, I have children myself, and I was concerned
that—”
“You’re right. You do have children. So instead of wasting
tears on Natasha’s brat, worry about the health and safety
of your own family, yes?”
And he had known exactly what that threat had meant.
Now, Yuri looked down at Kristina and something within him twisted.
He did not want to care. But between the launch and the dock at
Port Charles, when he’d held her as she’d cried for her
Mama, he had thought of Ms. Alexis. And he had known he could not
harm her little girl. When he’d carried her to this cottage,
one that no one knew of but he, himself, and had tucked her into
bed, he had known he couldn’t deliver the child to Helena.
That was when a plan had been born.
A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts. He crept over
to it, peered out into the darkness, and saw the slight form that
he was expecting. His wife, Nadia, stood there, blinking up at him
with anguished eyes.
“Yuri, what is this place? What is this about?” she asked
him as she quickly hurried in from the cold. She watched her husband
close and lock the door firmly. He stood at the window as if watching
for someone else.
“You used the county roads to get here? You followed my directions
to the letter?” he demanded, his eyes still peering into the
night.
“Yes, Yuri, I did, but—”
“You sent the children on the train to Mama? You told no one
where they were going?”
“Yes, yes, Yuri, I did everything exactly as you told me,”
Nadia cried, her face pinched with worry. “You’re scaring
me. Please tell me what you’ve done.”
Yuri moved to stand beside the little bed in the corner of the room
and gestured toward the small lump in the middle of the blankets.
“What I have done…I have saved a life,” he whispered.
“But I may yet be sacrificing my own.”
