Prologue

Port Charles Docks

"He doesn't understand," Maxie Jones told her sister empathetically.

"It could be worse," Georgie said, playing devil's advocate. "We could be trying to convince Frisco."

Maxie looked at her sister and laughed. Georgie was right-it could be worse. Frisco Jones would have probably locked them away in some foreign country not to be released until they were thirty. A brief flicker of clothing out of the corner of her eye made Maxie think they were being watched and she quit laughing, receiving a strange look from her younger sister.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," Maxie said with a sigh. She was just over reacting. It was a side effect of being on the run with Jesse. There was no one watching them. But still…

She looked out across the water. A new ship had docked in the night. She didn't think she'd ever seen that particular yacht before, but she'd only been in town a couple of months and most of that she'd been in the hospital. It was nothing. She was just developing her mother's paranoia.

"Hello, girls," a man said, causing Maxie to jump. A man was walking down the stairs. He was dark skinned with dark hair and eyes, like Nikolas Cassadine. Maybe they were related. He was wearing jeans, boots, and a t-shirt. A funny thought entered her mind; if Cassadines were mobsters, he would be one.

"Hi," Georgie said with a cautious edge to her voice. "Haven't seen you around here."

The man laughed. "No, I wouldn't suspect you have. I only arrived this morning for business." He walked over to stand beside them and Maxie noticed something else. He was fingering something in his pocket. Maxie was uneasy. He had been the person she'd seen watching them. Why?

"Well, I hope you like Port Charles," Maxie said, "but my sister and I have to go." She grabbed Georgie's arm and began pulling her sister away from the man. "C'mon sis, we need to go meet Dillon." Georgie seemed to get the urgency in Maxie's voice and didn't fight. Their flight, however, was blocked by two very large men in suits. Maxie swallowed hard. Everything her parents had taught her about fighting off attackers left her mind. In a few seconds, it didn't matter because everything went black.

"Leave their bags here. I want everyone to know they're gone," the man said. The other two picked up the drugged girls with ease. "Take them to the yacht. We leave for Paris in one hour. I have a meeting with my cousin first."

"Yes, sir," the two men replied and headed to the new yacht docked. The man watched them for several long moments before leaving.

"Cousin."

"Cousin," Nikolas Cassadine replied. "Why are you here, Damon?"

The man shrugged with elegance. "I've come to see how things are going. I heard this worthless American justice system has arrested Grandmother again."

Nikolas leveled his gaze at his young cousin with hatred visible in his eyes. "Helena deserves far more than a prison cell, Damon, as I'm sure, do you."

Damon laughed. "Oh, you speak like a true Russian prince, Nikolas, but be warned. Do not stand in the way of what I have planned or you will lose your title and perhaps you beautiful new wife."

"Touch Emily and you'll see how much of a Cassadine prince I really am, Cousin."

Damon chuckled again. "I have no intention of becoming enemies with you. Just remember what I said. I am a Cassadine too. Stand in my way and you war with Grandmother will look like a child's game." Damon spun and was at the door of the study when Nikolas called out to him.

"If you are up to something, it isn't me you should be worried about. I would think Naida would be far better opposition."

Damon smiled and Nikolas hid a shiver at how cold and cruel it was. He was reminded of his father's smiles. "My dear sister, dear Zinaida…I don't have to worry about her. I'm sure she will enjoy this plan very much once she learns of it." With that, Damon Cassadine pivoted and left the office. Nikolas sat down behind the desk and watched the doorway for a long time.