Chapter 1:

Spencer Cassadine

Being a Cassadine was both a gift and a curse, especially if you were born with the title and expectations of being the prince of the clan. Spencer huffed. Like Nikolas Cassadine, his father, he shunned the title. He considered himself just an ordinary man, working hard to keep his family's businesses afloat.

Spencer smirked; maybe ordinary was pushing it a bit. He was 25 years old and running an empire that stretched across the world; there was nothing ordinary about that, nothing at all. In fact, that word never fit into the Cassadine vocabulary.

The Cassadine family had a reputation that legends were built upon. Those before him had left their mark upon civilization after civilization throughout the ages. The Cassadine history both Greek and Russian could be traced back thousands of years. There was even a tale, told to him by his father when he was a boy, of one of his Greek ancestors being a pirate, traveling the high seas. No proof of the tale was found in the family history books but he never doubted the story. Having a pirate in the family was, to him, far more exciting than the royalty of his Russian side.

The Aristocrats and the Barbarian, Cassadine and Andreadis, was how their initial relationship had begun. The two sides clashed in every way imaginable, over land, treasures, etc. but then they had come together through a mutual understanding and led to the union of the families. The current czar, a Cassadine, took a Greek as his czarina and they gave birth to the very first Mikkos Cassadine.

The name Mikkos was passed down through the generations to his great grandfather but there is where it stopped. Mikkos and Helena let the name die; oft times, he wondered why. No one he asked seemed to know or care. Mikkos was a tyrant according to his father and his great aunt, Alexis Davis; Helena was no better. It was these two who kept the violent nature, also associated with the Cassadine name, alive.

For him growing up, Mikkos and Helena were the "monsters under the bed" children feared when the lights went out. He no longer saw them that way, not just because they were gone, but because he was no longer a child. Mikkos had died long before he was born; Helena just after.

Helena had kidnapped him when he was a baby, bent on molding him in the image of Mikkos but his father had tracked her down. He bravely fought to get him back and to protect him thereafter. He did so by instilling not only strength and knowledge in him but kindness and honesty as well. It was those values that helped him step confidently into his father's shoes without worry that he might fall victim to Mikkos and Helena's legacy.

Spencer sat behind the desk in his study, looking very much like his father had. His black hair, cut short and neatly trimmed, swept back from his forehead. His face was shaped like Nikolas's with its square chin and lean jaw line. He had the same full, dark brows and his father's nose. He was taller than his father, at 6' 2"and just as athletic. As for his eyes; however, they where blue like his mother's, who he'd never had the chance to know.

He tapped the slim gold pin in his hand on the edge of the desk, pondering why he was thinking so much about his family today, especially his great grandparents. There were contracts that need to be reviewed and projects that needed follow up but he could concentrate on neither. Impatient with himself, he tossed the pin on top of the files and rose. Maybe what he needed was a short break; a short stroll around Spoon island to clear his head. That wasn't the answer to his the barrage of thoughts distracting him from his duties; the answer was across the room.

He walked over to the coffee table, where the 4 x 4 box lie. He'd found the box waiting for him at the gate when he arrived home earlier. It bore no shipping label to tell him from where and from whom it had come. The contents were still yet unknown because for reasons unknown, he could not bring himself to open it. Strange unmarked a packages did not tend to find their way on the island. And stranger than that was the fact that the surveillance video showed no one coming onto the island or leaving it. It was the air of mystery surrounding the box that had him thinking of his family; taking the mental trip through the Cassadine history.

He frowned. This was ridiculous. He wasn't going to get any work done as long as he stewed over what was inside the box. He took a seat on the dark brown leather sofa and leaned forward, putting his ear close to it. No ticking… that was a good sign. He almost, almost laughed at himself.

"What are you doing?"

Spencer looked up from the box and into the face of Lila Quartermaine, affectionately named after the matriarch of the Quartermaine family. He smiled at her. "Trying to solve a mystery", he answered and was treated to that devastatingly beautiful smile of hers.

Lila had one of those faces that a man would never forget seeing, with its heart shape, doe eyes of gray and small, slightly pouty lips. She was 5'6", with the slim frame and mane of hair that was caught between her mother, Skye Quartermaine's red hair and her father, Lorenzo Alcazar's dark chestnut hair. The town of Port Charles was alive with gossip when the Quartermaine, wild child became tied to the Spanish mobster, who plunged the town into a hellish nightmare with his war with Sonny Corinthos over control of the waterfront and mob relations in Puerto Rico.

Lila tucked a strand of her red-brown hair behind her ear. "Don't let me interrupt you".

He patted the sofa beside him, her sudden appearance not bothering him one bit. She'd been popping up on the island, since they were kids. He, Lila, Molly and Kristina had spent a large portion of their childhood running around Spoon Island. "I found this waiting for me when I arrived home", he explained after she'd taken a seat beside him. "I've been mulling over whether I should open it or not".

"Who is it from?" she asked him.

"I've no idea".

Lila touched a finger to her unpainted lips, "Hmm….this is a mystery, isn't it? Who sent Mr. Cassadine the package? What's inside? Shall we guess or shall we see?" She wiggled her brows then leaned forward.

She reached for package but he caught her hand in his before she could touch it. It was small and delicate, warm, engulfed inside his. "Don't", he told her.

"Spencer, are you afraid of what might be in there?"

He looked at her. Gray eyes looked back at him, filled with worry. Was he? "Just leery that's all. One can never to be careful, Lila Rae", he said.

She flushed. It was so easy to forget at times, the position he was in. He was a prince, heir to an empire. Of course there were people who might try to hurt him. She felt foolish for making a joke out it. "You're right, I'm sorry".

"You don't have to apologize. I should have thought better than to bring it inside in the first place". He was still holding her hand and he caressed the back of it with his thumb. "I'm going to open it but before I do, you should leave".

"I wouldn't be much of a friend if I cut and ran", she told him. "Go ahead, open it".

"Lila".

Her mouth set into a thin, stubborn line. "I'm not going anywhere. Open it".

He released her hand rather reluctantly….something else to ponder, another day. He tore away the seal and opened the box slowly. He reached inside and came out with a case, small and black. He lifted the lid and saw what was inside. It was ring, a ruby ring. Slowly he exhaled and heard Lila do the same. "It's a ring". He did laugh then, softly. "It's a ring".

"It's incredible", Lila said.

It was large with a thick silver, no, platinum band, that had intricate designs carved into it, the ruby sat, large and dark, in the middle of the setting. He took it from its case and held it up. That was when he noticed the engraved initials inside the band, "M. C.", he read out loud.

"M. C.?"

Spencer's brows knitted together. "Mikkos Cassadine. This ring belonged to my great grandfather". Who, he wondered, had saw fit to send it to him. Leeriness returned, he replaced the ring, closed the case and tossed it carelessly back in the box. "Well, now that that's over, I can go for that walk I planned. Care to join me, Lila Rae?"

She looked at him. How could he, after all that, act so different to receiving a family heirloom such as that. Because he was Spencer, he had possessed this switch inside him that he could turn off and on at will. It made him hard to gauge but she supposed that was what made him so successful in business. "Sure. I like Spoon Island in the spring. It'll have to be a short walk though. I have to get back to Port Charles for a dinner date".

"A date, huh?" He asked casually but his teeth clenched slightly. It bothered him, he realized then he reminded himself that they were just friends. She dated; they both did. He had no right to be….jealous. He went rigid at that thought. He was jealous of the man who'd be spending his evening with Lila.

"Yeah", she replied. She didn't notice that he had stiffened a bit. "I'd planned to spend the evening at home and curled up with a good book but Molly talked me into dining with her".

"Molly?" The pressure that had built in his chest eased. She was having dinner with his cousin. "When did she get back in town?"

She shrugged, "Yesterday, I believe. She called me this morning. I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you joined us".

"I can't but thanks for the invitation". He stood and held out his hand to her. "Come, let's have our short walk".

She placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "We'll take a longer one the next time I come. I'll call ahead first", she said. "In case you're busy'. She smiled again.

He kissed her hand before thinking the action through. "You're welcomed to come here any time you like Lila Rae".

The feel of his lips on her hand made her stomach flutter or maybe it was the way he'd just said her name. "I, ah, I appreciate that".

He released her hand once again. "We'd better get to it then. I don't want to make you late for dinner". He led her to the door. Yes, he definitely had to figure out what was going on inside him as far as Lila was concerned. But that wasn't all. He glanced back at the box. He also had to figure out who spent him his grandfather's ring and why?