When they arrived in Chicago the night before, Jason wanted nothing more than to go to Scarcella's house. It was then Sonny realized Jason hadn't been kidding when he said he was going to knock on the mobster's front door and ask for Abby. It'd taken Sonny nearly an hour to convince him that Philip Scarcella wouldn't welcome a visit from uninvited guests after nine o'clock. When he'd relented, the four men went to the Four Seasons. Jason and Sonny each had a room in the suite, while Johnny and Francis took shifts guarding the door.

Of course, the men hardly slept. They'd been in a meeting until two in the morning, until, finally, Sonny insisted they should all sleep. With a glass of scotch in hand, he retired to the suite's plush sofa where he'd watch Jason talk on the cell phone to Elizabeth's guard, giving detailed instructions for his wife's care. Then, after Jason retired to his own room, Sonny listened as the younger man paced all night. He was sure if he checked the carpet in Jason's room, it'd be worn thin.

"So how is this gonna go down again?" Francis asked as he reached for another piece of toast. The men were in the dining room of the hotel, where Sonny insisted they eat breakfast that morning.

"It's simple," Sonny began, he glanced at Jason who wasn't eating, "We're going to convince Stryker and Scarcella that it'd be in their best interest to let us take Abby back to Port Charles with us."

"It's not simple," Jason argued. He glared at his boss, wondering how he could be so carefree about something like this. He turned to the men who were in their employ. "We don't want trouble, but we should go expecting it. I doubt they'll hand her over without a fight."

Before Sonny could tell Jason that he'd meant that all along, his cell phone rang. He'd been expecting a call from Benny and knew it was his accountant. "Whatcha got for me Benny?"

"Boss, you were right," the accountant said, "Villalobos is gone."

"Gone?" Sonny questioned. "The little weasel ran?"

"Yes sir, I sent Don by last night and he was there. When I tried to get in touch with him this morning, I kept getting a message that he was out of range. I went by his office and his house, it's like no one ever lived there. His secretary didn't know anything."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes sir," Benny answered him. "I'm watching his accounts, but there haven't been any withdrawals recently. I did notice a few large withdrawals made, probably cashed in thirty-five percent of his total worth about three months ago."

"Damn it," Sonny swore. He saw Jason staring at him and shook his head. "He's been planning this for awhile."

"Yes sir. What do you want me to do, Mr. Corinthos?"

"Find him," Sonny ordered. He knew he wouldn't need to reinforce the command and hung up the phone. Benny knew what to do. Sonny looked up at the three men staring at him. He pushed his chair back and stood. Taking care to drop enough cash to cover their breakfast on the table, he said softly, "Villalobos is gone. I wanna see Scarcella now." The three men followed him as he turned on his heel to leave the restaurant. Johnny couldn't resist grabbing one last piece of bacon before they left.

Even though they had decided against meeting with Scarcella the night before, they had taken the time to locate his estate and look for any extensive security measures and possible escape routes. The house was large, a mansion almost, tudor style set off a winding road in an outskirt of Chicago. The rolling hills beyond the wrought iron gate suggested that the mobster must've owned all of the land around them, or else someone would be building one of those annoying 'gated communities' and intrude on the mobster's much needed privacy.

As they pulled the Land Rover to the gate, the guard shifted the gun he had in his shoulder holster. Johnny could also see the barrel of a shotgun sticking up in the corner of the guard station.

"Can I help you?" the guard asked. He stepped out of the station, not bothering to conceal his weapon.

"We're here to see Mr. Scarcella," Sonny said from the back of the SUV. "We don't have an appointment, but I imagine he's expecting us."

"What's your name?" the guard asked suspiciously. He'd worked for Mr. Scarcella for so long, he could usually smell trouble before it got there. And the four men in the car reeked of it.

"Corinthos," Sonny said coolly. "Corinthos and Morgan."

Other than a widening of his eyes, the guard hoped his reaction was hidden. These were the men who were giving Stryker so much trouble in Port Charles. "I'll just need to radio up to the house and make sure it's okay."

"You do that."

The call didn't take long and the guard was back at their window. "Follow the cement up, when it breaks to the left, following the road to the right. That'll take you to the main house, Mr. Scarcella will be waiting there for you."

Johnny nodded at the man and waited for the gate to open before he gently pressed the gas pedal. "Looks like they were expecting us," Sonny commented. He turned to Jason and asked, "Is that good or bad?"

"I don't know," Jason winced. He dragged a hand over his face, trying to clear his tired mind. The previous night he'd tried to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, Elizabeth was sitting on their bed looking up at him with her innocent blue eyes. He could see the way she'd crumbled again and the hope in her eyes when she knew he was bringing their daughter home. Jason just hoped they'd all get out of this okay. He was beginning to think he should take Elizabeth, Abby, and Isabelle to Sonny's island when he returned to Port Charles.

Or maybe it'd be better if they stayed in town…get to know each other again. Plus, he knew Elizabeth wanted to move into her grandmother's house as soon as possible. Not that he was eager to have her move out, but it was important to her. He'd always considered Audrey Hardy's house a security risk, but he knew he would install the bulletproof glass himself if he had to.

"Jason?" Sonny asked again. He studied the look on his best friends' face and knew he was thinking about Elizabeth. "Jason?" he reached out to shake him from the reverie. They were sitting in front of the main house, Johnny and Francis were waiting for them outside of the Rover.

"Yeah?" Jason asked, quickly snapping back to reality.

"We're here," Sonny told him. He took his seat belt off and opened his door. "You okay?"

Jason nodded quickly and opened his own car door. "I'm fine."

"You ready to do this?"

"I've been waiting three years for this day, Sonny." His blue eyes connected with Sonny's and his determination was crystal clear.

"Let's go," Sonny said to all of the men.

Jason led the men, Johnny and Sonny followed him, and Francis was in the rear watching out for any guards who might be poised to start trouble. They covered the hundred feet between the car and the front door quickly and Jason knocked firmly on the solid oak door.

Sonny came behind him and pushed the doorbell on the wall and waited. He saw Jason studying him from the corner of his eye. "I know you're all about knocking lately, but I think the doorbell is more appropriate, not to mention polite."

Jason scoffed at the tone his friend was using with him. He started to say something, but the door opened and an older man was standing there. His eyes went directly to Sonny and he said, "Mr. Corinthos, I assume."

Sonny extended a hand and confirmed his assumption. "Sonny Corinthos. We're here to see Mr. Scarcella."

The older man ignored Sonny's last comment and turned his attention to Jason. "And I know you're Jason Morgan."

"How?" Jason asked shortly.

The man with silver hair pointed to just below his eye and said, "You and my granddaughter share the same ice blue eyes."

"She is not your granddaughter…Scarcella." The growl in his voice made it not only a fact, but a threat; pure and raw, and dangerous as hell.

He smoothed one hand down his black silk tie. "Would you men like to come in? I believe we have some things to discuss."

Jason started forward, "We have nothing to talk–"

Sonny cut his partner off and said, "Certainly, Mr. Scarcella." He stole a glance at Jason and said tersely, "We have a lot to talk about."

"I'm certainly glad that one of you is civilized," Scarcella observed. "Please, come in."

"Thank you," Sonny said diplomatically. All three men entered before Jason, who stood at the door scowling at his friend.

They followed the established mobster into his office where four Italian leather chairs were arranged in a semi-circle for them. Scarcella took a seat behind his large desk and stole a glance at Olivia before he turned back to the glaring men. "Since you're here, I guess that means Ms. Webber got my package?"

"Her name," Jason corrected him, "Is Elizabeth Morgan. Mrs. Morgan. And yes, she got your damn package."

"Jason," Sonny warned him. He didn't like the lack of respect the younger man was showing the reputed mob boss.

"What?!" Jason hissed at his boss. "I'm not a damn child, Sonny. I can handle myself."

Sonny turned his steely glare at his friend and sighed. "I know you're under a lot of stress right now," he whispered, "but now is not the time. Maybe you shouldn't have come."

"What!" Jason exploded. "The bastard steals my daughter and you want me to show him respect!? Sonny–"

"I assure you," Philip Scarcella interjected, "We did not 'steal' your daughter."

"Oh?" Jason queried. "Well we must have just imagined she was dead, or something. Some big dream, huh?" The sarcasm in his voice was dangerous. "I must have imagined watching all of those tears my wife cried over Abby."

"Joseph took your daughter," Scarcella continued, ignoring Jason's outburst. He knew the young man was running off emotions, but he was quickly losing his patience with Abby's natural father. "He took her because he wanted Mr. Corinthos to back off of his business. He felt that young Abby would be the insurance he needed to convince you to stay out of his business."

"Port Charles is my town," Sonny told him. "I was there before Joseph Sorel showed up, and I sure as hell wasn't going to let him peddle his filth through my streets. He was selling crack to kids, Scarcella. He was putting thirteen year old girls on the streets to sell their bodies. As long as I had a conscience, I couldn't let that continue in Port Charles."

"You really are the mobster with a heart of gold, aren't you?" Scarcella mused. "I mean, Joseph and Ronan both commented that you believed yourself to be some kind of vampire with a soul, but I didn't think you were so stupid. You can't be too conscientious. After all, you did blow up the building with your goddaughter inside."

"What're you talking about?" Jason asked, his voice perfectly even and unfeeling. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Of course," Scarcella continued, "she wasn't really inside. But Joseph was. Since you took my son, I took your daughter."

"We didn't 'blow up' anything with anyone inside," Sonny assured him. "Sorel walked into the warehouse with enough C4 strapped to his chest to blow up all of Bannister's Wharf. My men saw him from the docks."

"No," the mobster insisted, "Joseph did not kill himself…not when, there's no way he would have gone in there with an explosive strapped to his chest. That wasn't the plan," he muttered to himself.

"What was the plan?" Johnny asked quietly. It was the first time he'd spoken since they'd arrived.

Scarcella turned his attention to the bodyguards and asked suspiciously, "Who are you?"

"Johnny O'Brien and my partner Francis Carone," Johnny told him.

"What're you doing here?"

"They're the head of my security team," Sonny answered. "Where I go, they go."

"Ah, yes. I have a 'security team' myself," Scarcella told him. "To answer your question, Mr. O'Brien the 'plan' was that Mr. Morgan, Mr. Corinthos, and Joseph would meet and work out some agreement that was mutually beneficial. Young Abby would be returned to her frantic mother and we'd all live happily ever after."

"Except that's not the way it happened," Sonny finished for him. "Is it? Something went wrong—Sorel's dead, Abby was assumed dead, and all of the sudden your first son shows up in Port Charles, taking over Sorel's territory."

"You're right, it wasn't supposed to happen that way. It wasn't until months later that Ronan hatched the plan to get the territory back. He waited until Morgan's breakdown, something he couldn't have predicted better, before he left for Port Charles. I tell you, Mr. Corinthos, as sloppily as you run the organization, I'm surprised any of you are still alive. You think you're running an empire, but it looks more like a homeless shelter."

"What do you want?" Jason asked, cutting to the chase.

"What do you mean?" Scarcella answered his question with a question.

Jason held his tongue at the annoying mobster. "It's fairly obvious what—rather, who, we're here for. I'm leaving with my daughter, today. Now what do you want?"

"Mr. Morgan, you aren't much of a negotiator, are you?" He studied the man for a minute before he continued. "No, I imagine not. You look to be the muscle of the organization. Corinthos here must be the brains."

"Mr. Scarcella," Sonny said politely, "With all due respect, we're not here to trade grade school barbs. My partner was correct in saying that all he wants is his daughter and we want to know what you want in exchange for her."

"Why do you want her?" Scarcella asked suddenly.

"Why do I want her?" Jason exclaimed. He looked up at the mobster and held his gaze. "She's my daughter, Mr. Scarcella. She was created from the love I share with my wife. Why do you think I want her?"

"To pacify your child bride, I imagine." The man had been at this for years now, he knew exactly what buttons to push to get someone riled up. And it was working perfectly with Jason Morgan.

"You bastard," Jason jumped from the chair. In a second, both Johnny and Francis were standing in front of him, blocking his path. "How dare you insult Elizabeth like that."

"Jason, sit down," Sonny ordered. "Sit down." After he did, Sonny turned Scarcella and said, "Mr. Scarcella, we didn't come here and insult either of your late wives, or your children, no matter how we feel about them. You have Abby, we want Abby. What do you want in exchange?"

"A child for a child," Scarcella answered honestly.

"Say again?" Sonny requested. "I could have sworn you said 'a child for a child…'"

"I did."

"What does that mean?" Jason asked. "We don't have your child."

"No, you don't. But I do have yours." Scarcella's eyes flickered to the picture of Joseph and Ronan when they were children and sighed. "You have intentions of killing my son, do you not?"

Neither man said anything and the mobster continued, "I'll make a deal with you. If you leave my son alone, then I'll let you leave here with your daughter."

"Mr. Scarcella–" Sonny began.

"Fine," Jason said immediately.

"What?" Sonny asked. He stared at his partner. "There's no way in hell I'm letting him return to Port Charles and keep up his late brother's work."

"He won't," Scarcella promised. "As we speak, Ronan is on a plane on his way to my private island where he'll be for several weeks while we decide what we're going to do. After we're finished with our negotiations, I'll be joining him there."

Scarcella reached for the phone on his desk and dialed three numbers, when the housekeeper answered he said, "Bring Abby to my office."

Jason's heart began to beat faster when he heard the words. He was about to see Abby, after three years. His daughter. His beautiful, wonderful daughter. He gulped and said, "We'll leave Stryker alone if he never sets foot back in Port Charles." Jason looked at Sonny, who nodded, before he continued. "We want the land and all of his property holdings signed over to us, we're willing to pay top of the dollar for them. It's only fair."

"But if he returns to Port Charles," Sonny added, "All bets are off."

Before Scarcella could agree, there was a soft knock on the office door. "Bring her in, Marcella," he called.

The nanny entered the room, holding the hand of a child with curly blonde hair in pigtails. She was dressed in a brown corduroy jumper with a long-sleeved white shirt underneath. Her legs were covered in white hose, her feet dressed in patent brown Mary Janes."

"Papa," she said immediately. Her entire face lit up when she saw Philip Scarcella.

"My luce del sole," he called to her. Scarcella stood up and met the child in front of the desk. He scooped her in his arms and held her close. "L'amo, il mio bambino prezioso."

I love you, my precious child.

"Papa," Abby giggled. She touched the older man's face, her obvious love for the mobster shining in his eyes. As Jason and Sonny watched on, their hearts broke at Abby's obvious affection for the man who'd stolen her.

"My Abby," Scarcella whispered. He pulled his granddaughter into a hug one last time before he turned to look at Jason. "Abby, I want you to meet someone."

Jason looked up at his daughter and tried to force the tears back. The last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of Philip Scarcella. "Abby," he whispered.

"Abby," Scarcella explained as he approached Jason, "This is your father."

The child looked up at Scarcella and shook her head. "No, Daddy's on a trip."

"Honey," he sighed. "Lei sono la luce della mia vita."

You are the light of my life.

He began again, "You have to go with him, Abby." Scarcella steeled himself against the rush of emotions that was coming. "You have to go to your Mommy," he whispered.

"Mommy?" Abby asked. "No mommy," she told him. "Remember? I don't have a mommy."

"Yes you do," Jason spoke to his daughter for the first time. He pulled his wallet from his pocket and opened it to the picture of Elizabeth he kept with him. "Abby, this is your mother."

The child traced Elizabeth's face with awe. "Mommy," she whispered.

Sonny put a supporting hand on Jason's back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Johnny and Francis ducking their heads to hide their shining eyes. He knew there would be plenty of time later for crying—and breaking things—but he refused to let himself fall apart in his rival's home.

"You have to go with them," Scarcella told her. He quickly handed the child to Jason and turned his back. The men watched as the mobster's shoulders slump from under his silent sorrow. None of them were quite sure what to say. "Goodbye, Abby," he said finally.

"No!" she cried. Abby continued to cry as Jason carried her out of the room, into the main hall of the mansion. The workers stopped to look as the tall, blond man carried Scarcella's granddaughter, her delicate curls bouncing as she screamed and fought to return to the only family she had ever known. Her nanny sat on the marble stair case and cried silently. Another worker tried to comfort the woman.

Jason held his breath as they all climbed into the Land Rover and Johnny started the engine. He held the sobbing child to his chest as they passed the final guard station and finally he breathed a sigh of relief. Even as he held Abby close, he reached into his leather jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

Jason hit the memory one button and waited as it dialed. As if she knew he was calling Elizabeth, Abby quieted some. Jason rubbed her back soothingly while the phone rang in his ear. After three rings, she answered.

"Hi, honey," Elizabeth said into his ear.

"We've got her," Jason told his wife. "We've got Abby."