Note: This story is sort of going along as I think of it. I will try to update it at least once a week. Please be aware that this is a Cassadine story. This story's purpose is to glorify the Cassadine family. Other people will inevitably be involved but it mainly circulates around the Cassadines. This is the only story you will see me write that has Natalia Livingston playing Emily, and having a NEm pairing. If you're a NEm fan, then trust me. You don't want to read this story.
Updated notes: Okay, based on feedback, it appears that I need to add some kind of extra notes in here. I'm not basing this story off of everything precisely as it happened on the show. I am taking liberties with the Cassadine family history. So, for those who need it explained, Stefan always knew about Alexis really being his sister. Helena spent the vast majority of Alexis's life believing that she were a Cassadine cousin. Luke called her Natasha to get under her skin. Hopefully that clarifies any questions that anyone else might have.
Alexis Davis-Lansing stared at the pictures in her hands. Her russet hair fell into her face in thick bunches. Long bangs brushed against her eyebrows and dipped to touch her eyelids. High cheekbones were tight with the clenching of her jaw. Her eyes were wide, so wide that it almost hurt to keep them open. Her bottom lip started to tremble and she stopped it. She was stronger than that. She had shown enough weakness that she should have been ashamed of… that a certain person always told her should cause her shame.
She had told Ric to have an affair, had even given him a list of names, but she thought that his reluctance to do so meant something. She thought it meant that he was slowly coming around to her way of thinking. She wanted to believe that Ric would realize how much they belonged together, or at the very least, realize that he was being a hypocrite. Hadn't Elizabeth Webber spoken the same words to him when she left? Hadn't he been in the exact same place in life that Alexis found herself? He'd been through it all and knew what it felt like to have such anger raging for one person, the same person in fact, and yet he continued to push. As much as he had wanted Elizabeth to give him a second chance, he was suddenly too high to do the same for her.
As she thought of Ric's self-righteous behavior, she grew angry. As she looked at the pictures, she grew even angrier. He seemed to be appauled at Alexis's suggestion to have an affair, as though it hurt his sensibilities, but there he was, his arms around Reese Marshall. In one picture, he even held her face, the heel of his palms high on her head, fingers hovering just above the crown of her head. The way he touched her… Having an affair hurt his sensibilities, indeed. If he were already having an affair, if he really wanted to be divorced from her, he should have said so in the beginning. But, then, he would have lost his moral pedestal, and then he'd be unable to look down upon her.
Alexis stood confused for a moment, and her hand drifted to her extending belly. These pictures… There was a possibility that they could have been doctored. Perhaps Ric's body had been transposed into the photographs. But for what reason? Who could possibly want to do something like this to her, to destroy the last shreds of her marriage that she had tried to cling to so tightly?
John Durant was a possibility, but Alexis didn't know what he had to gain. He had Ric's job and made sure that Ric would never get into the District Attorney's office, again. Besides, Durant would have been more upfront about the entire deal. He would have waved the pictures in Alexis's face, handed them to her personally. He'd have wanted her to know that she'd picked the losing side. She should have gone all the way with their deal instead of backing out at the last minute. Well, she didn't feel bad about backing out, but she did have to admit that yes, she was on the losing side.
There wasn't really anyone else who had anything to gain. Ric's brother, possibly, but… pictures of Ric's infidelity wouldn't do any good to Sonny Corinthos in a custody hearing, especially since Ric and Alexis were headed for divorce, anyway. And again, if it were Sonny, he'd have given them to her personally. He would have smiled at her, flashed a dimple, and given her a wink that said, "Gotcha." Having these pictures sent by special courier was not going to get Sonny the satisfaction that he so richly desired.
With the main suspects pretty much eliminated, Alexis was back to square one; standing in her living room, staring at the pictures that had been dropped into her hands. As she returned her attention to the photographs, she lowered herself slowly into a nearby chair. She looked for hints of tampering, but could find none. There were some good graphic arts people out there, but somehow, she didn't think any of them had touched these photos. And the fact that they featured Reese Marshall was just another reason to cross Sonny off of the list. If he were going to attempt blackmail with adulterous photos of her husband, he wouldn't have used his current girlfriend.
The fact still remained, though, that someone had taken pictures of the former District Attorney and the former FBI kidnapping specialist and sent them to her. From what she could see of the surrounding area, it looked to be as though the photos were taken in a room at the Metro Court. Were they just that preoccupied that they didn't see a photographer snapping away? Whoever had taken these pictures must have known that they would end up in that room, and that it would be that night. Whoever had taken them had to have been watching Ric for quite some time.
A quick thought came to Alexis's mind and she jumped to her feet so quickly, she nearly lost her balance. She stopped and steadied herself, then went to the end of the couch. She had dropped the envelope there once her hand touched the pictures, and the front of the goldenrod envelope looked up at her, clean of markings. However…
She bent carefully, using her knees to lower her to the floor, then stood back up. Alexis stared at the pictures in her hand, then at the envelope in the other. Whoever had done this had to have left her some kind of clue. This was not something that one did without ever revealing their identity. She flipped the envelope over and sighed with defeat. The other side was as clear as the front.
Deciding to check the inside, Alexis slid her hand through the open flaps. The pictures fell from her grasp and landed on the floor. She looked down and groaned. "Wonderful," she muttered. She moved to pick them up, but stopped when her hand hit paper. She gripped the thin sheet between her fingertips and pulled it from the confines of the envelope.
Staring down, the sheet looked like memo paper, or perhaps one of the larger dimensions of Post-It notes, minus the sticky adhesive on the back. The paper was white and unadorned. The only markings were the few words scrawled diagonally across the paper in thick, black ink, and a small drawing in the bottom right corner. Alexis's eyes passed the words to stare in shock at the symbol.
Nearly tripping over her feet, Alexis rushed across the room and slapped her hands down flat on the desk top. She jerked open drawers until she found the one she was looking for, the one that held the ring that no one knew she still had. The ring that she had secretly taken off of his finger, knowing that none of those around her would care. Her keepsake, her memory of a lifetime filled with deeds more shameful than anything Ric Lansing could ever accuse her of committing.
Alexis stared at the ring, then at the symbol drawn on the paper. The Cassadine insignia. The image was so perfectly recreated that it appeared as though the ring itself had been dipped into thick black ink and pressed into the corner. But, Alexis knew better. The strokes were too perfect. This had been hand drawn by someone who knew exactly what the insignia looked like. By someone who loved that insignia and all it stood for, or at least what it had once stood for.
Alexis forced her eyes upwards to the words scrawled along the the paper. Always for you, Natasha. Alexis shook her head. This wasn't possible. She had identified his body and wept out her regrets over his corpse. Her tears had fallen on his cheek and never once had he moved. Someone had to be playing a horrible, cruel joke on her, one that hurt more than any pictures of her husband's infidelities could ever pain her. Someone had to be torturing her…
Because Stefan Cassadine was dead by the hand of Luke Spencer, and there was no coming back from that.