Time: several days later
Place: DiMera household, somewhere in Europe
Tony stood at his desk waiting for information that was downloading to his hard drive when someone knocked on the door. He'd arrived home only an hour ago, but he knew Stefano wouldn't leave him in peace for long and if that wasn't him out there in person, most likely there'd be a servant with a message asking Tony to join him for a drink. Just what Tony needed being back in this house, a drink. He closed the laptop and opened the door to a tall, muscular young man he didn't recognize.
"Good afternoon, sir."
"Yes?" Tony asked, making an effort not to sound impatient.
"Your father would like you to join him in his study."
"For drinks?"
"He didn't mention that, sir."
Tony laughed. "Of course he couldn't just pick up the phone," he said sarcastically which made the young man look a bit nervous and Tony reminded himself it would hardly be fair to take out his aggravation on this poor kid. "Yes, well please let him know I'm tired and I'll speak to him in the morning."
The young man looked alarmed. "You want me to go back and tell him that you refused?"
"That was the idea," Tony said, trying not to laugh again. "How long have you worked for Stef...my father?"
"Long enough to know he's rather demanding about his wishes being respected."
Tony's humor vanished. "Not tonight," he snapped before he could stop himself and then closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. "Sorry." He smiled at the kid, willing himself to be calm. "Look, he won't be upset with you so you don't have anything to worry about," and he patted the young man on the shoulder and closed the door. He walked over to the window next to his desk and thought to himself that he should have stayed with Anna for several more days, or weeks, but then Stefano would have shown up in Paris looking for him which was the last thing he wanted right now. "Yes love, you were right," he whispered to himself, longing to be back with her, preferably in bed. He was tired and frustrated and he cursed himself for not being able to strangle Stefano and have the whole damn mess over and done with. He slammed his hand down on the desk and spying a paperweight, grabbed it and hurled it into the corner across the room.
"Well, I'm glad you waited to do that until after young Carlo left. And I have to say I'm shocked, you know better than to take out your anger on the servants."
Tony turned to face his father.
Stefano stood in the doorway and saw immediately that Tony did not intend to apologize. "I'm relieved to see that you're okay," he said. Tony made no reply, just stared and Stefano had to make an effort to remain civil. "It is customary to greet your family when you return from a journey."
"Worried about good form are you?" Tony said with a laugh. "You ought to be grateful I didn't come home planning to kill you. Wouldn't that have the neighbors talking, and the servants."
Stefano did not look amused. "You're still upset. Evidently Anna's charms aren't what they used to be."
Tony forced a smile onto his face and leaned back against the window. "Well, you've seen that I'm fine and gotten in your dig about Anna. Anything else?" he asked, wondering just how much of a tantrum he was going to have to put up with.
"Oh, come now Tony. You left the hospital without even being discharged. You left no message, simply vanished. I was worried," Stefano said, with what sounded like real concern in his voice. "It took me several days to locate you only to discover you'd run off to find solace in the arms of your ex-wife."
"I'm surprised you didn't show up at her front door in the middle of something."
Stefano shook his head and looked at him with despair. "How disappointed Kristen would be."
"Disappointed?" Tony's eyes grew hard. "You're talking about the woman who married me and swore before God to be faithful and then slept with my brother? Oh no, Father. Kristen would hardly be in a position to sneer at anyone, especially me and Anna." Stefano's eyes narrowed and Tony instantly regretted his outburst.
"What are your intentions regarding Anna, by the way?"
"The same as they were a week ago," Tony said, trying to shrug off his irritation, "when they were still none of your concern."
"Your health is my concern and if she's providing you…consolation, then by all means, keep seeing her. I'm just a little surprised you didn't bring her back here."
"She wasn't interested in visiting," Tony said walking over to reach for the door. "Will I see you in the morning?" he asked courteously.
"We're not done," Stefano said and Tony could hear the steely edge in his voice.
"I'm tired Father. It's been a long day and since Kristen is dead and John isn't going anywhere in foreseeable future, I don't see why this conversation can't wait one more day until after I've had a decent night's sleep."
"You've put this off for over a week already."
"Tomorrow." Stefano didn't budge and Tony let out a sigh. "Look, I won't be slipping out the window later tonight to escape down a rope; no vanishing act, okay?"
It took a moment but Stefano finally nodded his head. "Alright," he said and fixed his gaze on Tony. "I'll see you in the morning for breakfast," and then turned and walked away down the hall.
Tony swallowed and restrained himself from slamming the door. He had no idea how he was going to get through the next few days and keep control of his own temper. Just being alone and thinking about what he'd discussed with Anna was enough to bring his anger to a boiling point at which times he actually considered the unthinkable; murdering his father. He'd come so close in the hospital. With a sigh, he went over and poured himself a drink and sat down in the arm chair next to the fireplace which stood empty on this warm spring evening. He took a swallow and closing his eyes, let his mind drift back until he could feel Anna in his arms.
They were lazily dancing across the front of her living room, near the windows. Paris lay spread out in the distance and soft jazz from a radio floated through his memory. Her lips teased him as they caressed his face and his mouth and then she'd leaned her head just inches away and opened her eyes and Tony could see them reflecting the candlelight.
"Tell me I'm not dreaming," she said, running her finger along his bottom lip.
He smiled. "And what is the matter with dreaming? It can be heavenly."
"But I want more…"
"I know," he said swinging her around, "you always did. More, more, more. And you shall have it," he said with a gentle smile as he kissed first the tip of her nose and then her lips with a tenderness and ease he knew would drive her crazy.
She smacked him. "You're wicked," she said, laughing helplessly.
He only smiled and pulled her down onto the couch…
The rest of the memory slipped away as the faint ringing of an alarm seeped into his consciousness. He opened his eyes and listened to the quiet beeping for a couple seconds and then remembered the laptop and the information he was waiting for; his medical history. It had probably been altered in some way, but he had to begin looking somewhere. And after his conversation with Anna in her apartment, he'd begun to suspect things about his illness that alarmed him. Was it possible that Stefano engineered his blood disease? He needed answers, he needed to know what the hell his father was up to before Anna's warning came true and he was in so deep he'd have no room to maneuver and ended up as Stefano's puppet. "That won't happen Father," he said looking over at the door. He wasn't about to be used like Andre and then thrown away, not that his cousin hadn't deserved it after all the pain he'd put them through.
Even so, Tony couldn't get his suspicions about the man to die. Someone was in that grave, but he feared it wasn't Andre who was most likely hiding in this house somewhere, plotting with Stefano. Eager to cause more misery because of Daphne, he thought and glared down at his drink. "She managed to die on you before you had a chance to really wreak her life didn't she Father, so naturally you want to wreak mine, and Johns to make up for it. You…" He squeezed his eyes shut for a second and then got up to find out what was on the computer.
It was much later in the middle of the night that Tony woke in a cold sweat. He could feel his heart pounding. The nightmare remained horridly vivid in his mind and covering his face with the blanket did nothing to help it disappear. He'd been back in the Andre's dungeon with Anna. They were holding each other, trying to keep warm and optimistic even though Stefano appeared to be winning. Then the door had opened. Andre had come in and taken off Anna's shackles, all the while taunting his cousin about the fact that Anna belonged to him and he was going to prove it to Tony. Anna had looked appalled but Andre had just laughed and dragged her into his arms and forced her to kiss him. She'd screamed but Tony couldn't help her. He'd tugged on his own chain desperately trying to reach her but he was forced to watch as Andre hauled her over into the corner. He'd yanked her dress off her shoulder and turned to smile at Tony who was frantic. Thankfully, something made him wake up before it went any further.
He reached over to flip the light on next to the bed and getting up, went to pour himself a stiff drink. His hand was shaking as he lifted the glass to take a swallow. He leaned up against the wall, breathing deeply, trying to calm the adrenaline still driving his heart rate and told himself that it was only a dream. It had never happened. Andre had tried to get to Anna on the island but she'd tricked him and he'd never actually tried it when they were chained up together in the dungeon, he didn't have to, and besides he was dead now. He couldn't hurt either of them. "If he's dead," Tony whispered, hearing Anna's scream echo in his head. He finished the drink, poured himself a glass of water and got dressed, so he could go out for a walk. Going back to bed was not a possibility, and he didn't want to get drunk. He grabbed a jacket and opened the door.
"Is there anything wrong sir?"
Tony looked at the burly man dressed in white sitting directly across the hallway from his room. "No, I'm fine," he said with a frown, telling himself he ought to have expected this from Stefano. "Just going out."
"I see sir. Perhaps there is something I could get for you?"
"A bit less paranoia would be good."
"Excuse me?"
"Never mind. No, there's nothing you can get for me. I'm simply going out for some air and since I'm sure my father's security measures are not lacking, I have no doubt that I'll be perfectly safe. If I collapse," he said with a straight face, "someone out there can bring me in."
He closed his door and started down the hall but the man was quicker than he looked and darted in front of Tony.
"I think your father would rather I came along with you."
Tony stared at the man who was a good half a foot taller than he was, and said, "No thank you," and walking around him, headed down the hall but realized at once he was being followed. "Oh, come on, this is ridiculous," Tony said, beginning to get angry. "And I'm not in the mood for this childish game of his."
"I'm sorry sir but your father was very explicit. You weren't to wander off by yourself. He's worried that you might run into something unexpected, or even pass out in the dark."
Thinking about kicking the guy's feet from under him, Tony stopped and shot him a look. "And just who else could be wandering around that I would need protection from?"
"I didn't mean that sir. He's just concerned because you've been so ill."
"Ah yes, right. Well, uh…" He looked at the man questioningly.
"Oh, Karl."
"Thank you Karl. I appreciate the offer and I understand you're only following Father's wishes but I'm just going out on the terrace downstairs. I won't be wandering off anywhere so, a chaperone is really not necessary."
"You won't even know I'm there, sir."
"I doubt that."
"Pardon?"
Tony smiled. "No, I'm sorry," he said, thinking better of knocking the guy out.
Tensions between him and his father were already at the breaking point and it wouldn't help if he started thrashing the hired help. And there was an easier way. "I've changed my mind. Please…" Tony gestured toward the chair. "relax."
He returned to his room and shut the door, leaning up against the back of it. "Well Father," he thought to himself, "let's see what you're hiding." He threw his jacket on the bed and found a black sweater which he slipped over his head and then turned off the light.
Three or four rooms down should do it, he thought as he walked out onto his balcony. To his left, the neighboring balcony was only a short jump. He wasn't in the greatest shape but didn't have a problem and once across he checked underneath the railing up against the wall for the key that he hoped was still concealed from years before. The room had originally belonged to Kristen. Although Stefano had pushed for them to marry, Tony didn't like his father knowing every move he and Kristen made, especially in the middle of the night so they'd worked out another system. His fingers quickly discovered the small box and he opened it. The key was intact and breathing a silent thank you, opened the door. He hadn't been in this room since before he and Kristen were married and other than familiar items she'd taken with her, the room was exactly the same as it had been those nights the two of them had spent together. The atmosphere was as he remembered it too, shadowy. Only starlight to glow along the curves of her body and Tony glanced over at the bed half expecting to find her waiting for him but it lay empty, made up and deserted. He walked past it and through the bathroom quickly and into the bedroom attached on the other side that she'd used as a sitting room.
Now, he just had to slip out into the hall and a few feet into the next bedroom that he prayed would be empty. He eased the door open. Karl sat at the corner of the hall with his back to him reading a magazine, keeping an eye on Tony's bedroom door. Tony moved silently into the next room and found it pitch black. He located the light switch, and relieved to find no one lying in the bed, began searching for the bathroom that he knew would lead to another room, but as he noticed the doorway, his eye caught sight of an object that startled him. It lay on the nightstand. He walked over and picked it up and stared at it in confusion wondering what a picture of Roman Brady would be doing in this house. Especially this section that was reserved for only the family. Stefano would never have kept Roman prisoner here, probably not even on the premises, or Marlena.
He supposed it might belong to Alexandra but knew after glancing around that was wrong. This room belonged to a man. He began opening drawers in the desk which only contained blank stationary and the dresser full of clothes, a side table holding some books, and then both nightstands. The one where he'd found the picture contained among other things, two prescription bottles. Both were labeled with Roman's name. Tony tried to find a date but there was none on either bottle though the lengthy name of the medicine seemed vaguely familiar. He thought about writing it down when he heard footsteps and instantly assumed that Karl must have seen the light from beneath the door. He slipped the bottles in his pocked and turned off the light.
Without waiting to find out if Karl planned on checking the room, Tony found his way in the dark through the bathroom and to the door of the room on the far side. He debated momentarily about taking the elevator down to the basement level to continue searching but decided that he'd probably alerted Karl who would call for help when he discovered the room dark again, so he waited until he heard the other door open and then checked the hall. It was empty. Tony was outside the open door in seconds and with a glance at Karl's back, glided past and into Kristen's sitting room.
He was back in his own room before Karl knocked on his door. After Tony assured him and two hefty looking guards that he hadn't heard anyone, not a sound, they'd left. He knew they'd station themselves out in the hall for the rest of the night but it didn't matter, he'd take care of the situation tomorrow. Instead he leaned back in bed and studied the prescription bottles.
The next morning Tony was already on his second cup of coffee and scanning the financial section of the Times when Stefano walked into the conservatory. Thankfully he wasn't smoking and Tony watched him as he headed over to the tray.
"I'm happy too see you so alert," he said to Tony, as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "Karl tells me you had difficulty sleeping and I thought perhaps you might not be feeling well this morning."
"I'm fine but you're wasting Karl's talents on me. I don't need a nurse."
Stefano sat down across from Tony. "Well, he's more than just a nurse…"
"I don't need a babysitter either," Tony said, folding the newspaper and setting in on one of the empty chairs, "or whatever else you want to call him. And I don't appreciate being followed around in my own home."
"I guess it wouldn't do any good to point out that you've been very ill."
"No, it wouldn't, especially since you and I both know that's not the reason you're having me watched."
"I'm just worried about you."
Tony shook his head. "You're worried I'm going to disappear, which is a thoroughly tempting idea when you pull stunts like this," he said, frowning. "Speaking of which, getting Karl to follow me around isn't much of a deterrent."
Stefano drank some coffee and picked up Tony's paper off the chair. "You might be surprised," he said as he glanced at the front page. "Anyway, we had an intruder in one of the bedrooms last night, so you should be grateful he was there."
Tony almost chuckled. "There was no intruder."
"Yes," Stefano said, glancing up. "Karl told me that you didn't hear anything, but…"
"It was me."
Stefano actually looked surprised, though Tony knew it was because he hadn't tried to conceal his actions. He had no doubt that Karl suspected him of being the person in the room and probably explained the entire incident to Stefano earlier though without proof, his father would have dropped it. Stefano leaned back in his chair and waited for Tony to explain himself, but Tony wanted answers.
"Who's in the room next to Kristen's? The one that used to belong to Peter."
"No one. It's empty I think. And exactly what possessed you to go sneaking through the neighboring bedrooms in the middle of the night?"
Tony sat back and folded his arms. "I felt like some air but that watchdog you assigned me insisted on tagging along."
"Oh come Tony, it wouldn't have killed you. Karl is amazingly discreet."
"Yeah, he looks it," Tony said with half a smile.
Stefano's irritation got the better of him. "I can't believe you're being so obstinate about this, and climbing around on the balconies at night after just being released from the hospital," he said flashing Tony a look of reproach.
"Perhaps you'd rather I left him out cold on the floor?"
"No," Stefano said, with genuine anger, "I would not, but..."
"What is a picture of Roman Brady doing in that room?"
His father's expression froze so swiftly that Tony knew he'd stumbled onto information that Stefano hadn't meant for him to find.
"Roman." Stefano raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "I don't know, maybe it belonged to Peter. I seem to remember giving him photos before he left for Salem, you know, those members of the community he should avoid when possible."
"And he liked it so much, he framed it and put it next to his bed," Tony said, laughing. "Surely you can do better than that."
Stefano sighed and looked at Tony with chagrin. "Okay. He was here in the house. Roman, that is." Stefano tossed the newspaper back on the chair. "For a few short weeks when he was undergoing a procedure and I had to be here for some reason or other. I knew what a risk it was, but…" He didn't bother to finish, just gave another halfhearted shrug and picked up his cup.
"A procedure…you mean surgery?"
"Yes," Stefano said.
He didn't elaborate and Tony sensed he wasn't going to get any more details. Surgery might explain the prescriptions but something about it didn't sound right. For one thing, Stefano never volunteered anything unless he had something to gain and even then, it never came this easily, not to mention, Tony couldn't imagine any reason serious enough that Stefano would risk bringing the ISA down on him by hiding Roman out in his main residence.
"Aren't you worried, him knowing the location of this house?"
"He doesn't," Stefano told him. "His condition was such he didn't know what was going on and I would think you'd know me better than that." He waited a few minutes for a reply but Tony had gotten up and walked his empty cup over to the tray without saying a word and Stefano finally said, "So now that we've dealt with that perhaps we can get on with…"
"We're not done," Tony said as he turned around to look at Stefano, "not until Karl disappears, at least from outside my door and wherever else I choose to go."
"Tony, can't you just do this for my peace of mind?"
"No. Either Karl does something else or I mean it, Father…I don't need your help and I'm getting a little tired of this touching display of concern you've developed suddenly. I'm beginning to think the person needing the nurse around is you."
Stefano's eyes widened. "You're making way too much of this, you know." Tony simply stared back at him until at last Stefano said, "Fine. But if you pass out and end up back in the hospital, I'll expect you and Karl to be getting better acquainted."
"Like hell we will," Tony thought to himself and looked back at his father with a thin smile.
"Now, I thought we were going to talk about John."
Tony leaned back to sit on the edge of a table loaded with orchids and folded his arms.
In a careful tone, Stefano said, "I understand how difficult this is for you, John and Kristen and then reading your mother's letter and…"
"Oh stop it. I don't want to hear about how much sympathy you have for me when it comes to John, or Kristen. My feelings are not up for discussion," Tony said in disgust, his face and eyes hard. "We did that already in the hospital last week, and if you're smart, you'll avoid it permanently. You want to help me take down John fine but my acceptance does not include listening to some charade you invented in the hopes that I'd think you give a damn, and if you can't live with this condition then I can save us both a lot of trouble right now."
Stefano stared at his son in disbelief and then said coldly, "You scurried quickly enough to your ex-wife for solace but I'm not allowed, it that it?"
"After springing that letter on me," Tony replied, equally grim, "the nerve you have to sit there and…my God, how many times did I beg you to tell me about John?"
Stefano looked away. Obviously Tony's fury simmered very near the surface and though Stefano had purposely done everything in his power to aggravate the situation, for the time being, he was still Tony's only outlet. He waited until his own anger subsided and then pushed his chair back and stood up. "Yes, I suppose forgiveness will take some time but one day you'll see things clearer. You'll understand what I did and why," he said walking over to the tray where he set down his empty cup and then looked at Tony. "For now, I'll accept that you need space in order to deal with all this. Will that do?"
After gazing at Stefano for few seconds, Tony shut his eyes. This whole thing was going to be much trickier to pull off than he'd imagined. Just repressing his anger towards Stefano and forcing himself to keep a civil tone required a degree of self control that he'd never had to exercise with his father or anyone else. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be an alternative solution so, returning his father's look he nodded his head.
"Good, come with me," Stefano said, leading Tony out of the conservatory and through the enormous salon to a hallway. A few doors down was his study and once inside, he picked up the phone. He looked over at Tony. "More coffee?"
"Only if it's decaffeinated."
"Ah, Francine, good morning. Please have Carlo bring a tray to my study with coffee, regular and decaffeinated. Yes, thank you." Hanging up the phone, he opened a desk drawer and pulled out papers that Tony recognized to be some kind of legal document. "Let's sit down," he said walking over to the fireplace. "I want you to look at this." Stefano sat in a massive leather chair and held the paper up for Tony, who took it and began reading.
After just a couple sentences, he stopped and looked down at his father. "This is your will," he said as he glanced at it again and then eyed Stefano's face. "You're planning on disappearing aren't you? Again."
Stefano smiled up at him. "You have no idea of what it's been like without you. What a pleasure to converse with someone whose mind is sharp enough to work out problems on their own. I get so tired of having to explain each and every detail."
Tony sat in the other chair and continued to browse through the will until he reached the last page. He handed it back to his father. "Another fake death,' he said with a dry laugh, "your specialty. And just what method did you think to use this time?" He paused as he waited for Stefano's answer but after a moment said, "Let's not use explosives. They're so messy and unpredictable and I'm always worried I might actually have to bury you. Well, the pieces anyway. Poison is much easier."
"John isn't going to believe I'm dead if we just use poison."
"Oh for heaven's sake father, John isn't going to believe you're dead period. I could give him your body to dissect and he'd swear you're alive."
"I've been thinking perhaps an automobile accident," Stefano said, looking thoughtfully into the empty fire grate. "We'd need plenty of witnesses and that way there would be a coroner's report and publicity in all the newspapers."
Tony ran his hand across his face and shook his head at his father. "You know seriously, there are days I believe you are insane."
Before Stefano could reply, there was a knock on the door and Carlo entered with the tray which he set on the table between their two chairs, and then left without a sound. Besides the coffee there were scones along with Tony's favorite jam and a plate of biscotti. Tony looked at the tray and wondered what his father would do if he got up and poured himself a whiskey and soda instead. He sighed. "Okay, a car accident. Then what?"
Stefano grinned as he turned to pour himself a cup of coffee and added cream. "Well, after someone's death, there is a funeral of course."
"Attended by all the grieving citizens of Salem," Tony said, dreading the event already. "That should be a barrel of laughs." He poured himself coffee and picked up a chocolate biscotti. "By the way, what about Alexandra?"
Stefano was quiet for a moment. "I think she's been through enough for the moment."
"Meaning what, exactly?"
"Meaning, she doesn't need to know."
Tony swallowed his coffee too quickly and coughed. "You want me to lie to my sister and tell her you're dead?"
"Alexandra has been through an incredible ordeal loosing her son and I don't want her to have to suffer any more right now. She needs time to put her life back on track."
"Of course she's not going to suffer after hearing that you've been killed."
Stefano shot him a warning glance. "I'll decide what is best for Alexandra and what she needs to know."
"Yes," Tony said and thought, Here we go again
"Anyway, you have more important problems, like keeping John occupied and his attention focused away from looking too closely into my death."
"That should be easy enough," Tony said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. All I have to do is show up in Salem and nailing me will be John's reason for existence."
"Well, that will only last until you're cleared of those charges."
"You think so?" Tony shook his head. "No, I don't know what you did to that man but he's relentless and as soon as Abe and Roman are forced to let me go, he'll be even more determined to prove I'm lying than if I ended up rotting in jail."
Stefano got up and took his will back over to the desk. "If you're right, that could be a problem."
"Why?"
"Because of this," he said, pulling a small box out of another drawer. "The key to your future."
Tony watched as his father opened the box and pulled out a strange blue object that he guessed was supposed to be a key. "What does it open?" but Stefano didn't answer. "Father?"
"Oh, I know you hate secrets, but I promise you'll know before long and I'm not about to spoil the surprise after all my time and effort," he said as he walked over and handed it to Tony.
It barely weighed anything which is not what he'd expected. "What kind of metal is this made out of?" he asked turning it over in his hand and finding the back identical to the front.
"I'll let you read the information on it later but you see, we need to keep John worried about something other than what's going on in the mansion."
"Okay, how about Marlena?" Tony said, and then waited for Stefano to bristle.
"Ah yes, Marlena," Stefano leaned his head back. For a few moments he said nothing and then, "I assume the plan would be to get John believing you want to steal her away."
"I figure that's what he'll expect anyway considering I'm your son."
When Stefano ignored this comment as well, Tony looked over at him and saw that his father was sitting with his eyes closed and he began to feel uncomfortable. The allusion to Marlena had just popped out of his mouth. Though he didn't much care about John's feelings, he'd always considered Marlena a friend and she'd treated him with respect despite his connection to Stefano. He was aware she'd encouraged John to go after Kristen but Tony understood Marlena's sense of guilt, she hadn't done it to hurt him or because she thought he was like his father. Of course now, she probably despised him, but still he hated the idea of using her. And there was Anna. He could just imagine her reaction to such a plan and why wasn't his father objecting? It was just so out of character and the more he thought about it the more he wanted to kick himself for even suggesting Marlena's name.
"That might work," Stefano mused from his chair.
Tony swore under his breath and wondered again what the hell was going on. "Oh, it would work, but do you really want John going ballistic?"
Stefano turned his head and stared at his son. "Don't you?"
"I'm just surprised you'd want anyone else near Marlena, including me."
His father smiled. "Tony," he said, sounding disappointed, "even you underestimate me at times but" he lifted a finger and then rose from his chair, "I have a gift especially designed for you to give to her." He walked over to one of the bookcases on the opposite side of the room and moving a book, pressed an object on the wall that Tony couldn't make out. The case opened to reveal a dark corridor and a large covered frame that was standing up against the wall. Removing the cover, his father stood aside. Tony left his chair to get a better view and after gazing at it for a while had to admit the portrait was breathtaking and Marlena appeared as radiant as he'd ever seen her though he was sure she'd been miserable when it was done. He looked at his father who was waiting.
"You want me to give this to her?"
"There is another for you to keep if you wish and of course I have a copy."
Tony's gaze turned back to the painting and he fumed silently. Something was very wrong and he couldn't for the life of him understand why Stefano would push him towards Marlena. None of this made any sense. As he stood looking into Marlena's eyes, a peculiar sensation hit him, a flash of memory of himself lying in a bed but it vanished before he could pick out any details and he realized his father was staring at him and saying his name.
"Are you alright?"
He squeezed his eyes shut for a minute and then said, "No, I'm fine. Just tired."
Stefano's face wore a quizzical look. "Has this happened before?"
"What?"
"Well, I said your name a half a dozen times, Tony. At first I thought you were ignoring me, but you were so focused on her portrait and mesmerized by it as though you were somewhere else. Does it remind of you something?"
Tony shook his head slowly. He tore his eyes away from Marlena's and walked over to the fireplace where he leaned both hands up against the mantle. Within seconds his heart was racing as quickly as the night before when he'd woken from his nightmare only this was real. Or was it? After seven years of lying in a coma, how certain could he be of any memory? Practically anything might have been implanted into his subconscious to be triggered at the appropriate time, leading him to desire something he'd never even wanted before. And then it clicked. First Kristen, now Marlena. Another woman Stefano could use to tear him and John apart, as if we needed any other reason to hate each other, Tony thought.
Of course, if the memories existed, real or fake, there was the possibility they could still influence his behavior. Just imagining that made his heart rate jump another notch. He turned to face Stefano who had closed the door to the tunnel and sat watching his son from a perch on the corner of his desk and for a terrifying second, Tony had the sensation that he was back in the quicksand and his father meant to enjoy watching him sink to his death.
Oh Anna he thought as he eyed Stefano's crafty face. I think you were right. I need help.
