Chapter Three

"How did it go, sir?"

Alexander Dimera shrugged out of his fine Italian suit coat and handed it to the waiting servant. "Not very well." He scowled in reply and walked over to the crystal brandy decanter. He poured a small amount into a glass and downed the fiery liquid quickly.

The obsequious toady fluttered nervously behind his employer. The boss's plan failed? This wasn't good, for either one of them.

"How, how do you mean, sir?"

A tight angry smile flitted across Alexander's face. "She refused me. Turned down my gracious offer. Get this, the young brats think that they can manage both the factory and the castle, all by themselves!" he exclaimed with a light laugh.

"Well, they are adolescents, sir. Young people their age think that they can do anything. Give them time, sir. In a month they will be begging for your help."

Alexander considered his servant's words and his anger subsided. "Yes, you're right, Igor. Just a little more time." His lips curved in a small smile. "It's not like I don't have time to spare!" he remarked with a chuckle. Igor joined in on the joke, glad to see his employer's mood lift.

Time. Alexander gazed thoughtfully at the large ornate ring that adorned his left pinky finger. Sunlight from the large windows glinted on the ring and ignited the fire within the unusual stone. The stone flashed brightly revealing an image of a majestic bird wreathed in flames.

The legendary Phoenix. A mystical creature that is consumed by fire only to be reborn from its own ashes. Alexander smiled and thought back to the day he first heard the legend of the Phoenix.

It was his 18th birthday and his dear old grandfather had pulled him away for a serious private conversation.

"Antonio, my boy," he began, his voice withered and cracked from age, "I'm going to tell you a story. A story about life, death and rebirth."

Antonio rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. He was tired of stories. He was eighteen, anxious to get out in the world, to make his mark. But he listened dutifully to his grandfather and soon found himself engrossed in the tale of the Phoenix.

His grandfather finished the story and turned to his grandson. "I wager you're wondering what this story has to do with you, right? Well, my boy, it has to do with your birthright." He said and pulled out an antique metal box.

"My birthright?" Antonio repeated, confused.

"Yes. Now I'm not talking about mere gold, or jewelry, or event the priceless paintings you see hanging on these walls. No, our family's real treasure lies inside this box. It has been passed down from generation to generation waiting for the right person to claim it. That person is you."

He shakily removed the lid of the box and inside; lying on a bed of soft velvet was a beautiful ring, unlike anything that Antonio had ever seen before. He picked it up in awe and held it to the light.

"That stone is called phoenix, after the bird of myth. Legend has it that this stone was birthed in the flames of the Phoenix's death-pyre. And if you hold it to the light just so," he tilted the ring slightly, "you can see an image of the Phoenix itself."

Antonio gasped to see the ring flash. He was amazed by the beauty of the stone. He paused and looked with skeptical eyes at the aged man before him. "But what does this have to do with me?"

The old man just smiled. "You, my son, are a rarity these days. In fact, you are the first in our family for many hundreds of years. You see, you are the seventh son of a seventh son. And such a person will never die."

A secret thrill ran through Antonio's spirit. "Never die?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Well, that's the story. The reality though is that everyone dies. But you can at least delay the inevitable, if only for a while. With this." He held up the ring. "This ring will prolong your life, improve your health, and will heal even the most severe injuries. It will also sharpen your already strong wits, give you clarity of mind and wisdom." He placed the ring in Antonio's hand.

"I give you knowledge and power. Use it to bring honor and glory to the house of Dimera."

Antonio placed the ring on his finger and immediately felt its effects. Strength and power like he had never known coursed through his veins and a thousand plans formed in his mind. That day he began his journey to carry out his grandfather's wishes.

One hundred years had passed since that fateful day; one hundred years in which he aged only twenty-five. The ring kept him young, and in great health. Every thirty years or so he'd disappear, only to re-emerge later claiming to be a son or other relative. Thus Antonio Dimera became Lucias Dimera became Cassius Dimera and finally in his latest incarnation, Alexander Dimera.

One hundred years spent building an empire worthy of the Dimera name. An empire that spanned the globe. The Dimera business empire had its hand in everything from international trade to manufacturing to politics. He had wealth and power beyond measure. But there was still something missing.

The ring had given him a taste of power; but it wasn't enough. The ring was losing its power. Most of Alexander's aging had occurred within the last ten years. He was now aging quickly; strength fleeing his body.

Alexander glanced at the framed mirror on the wall and took note of the wrinkles and chuckled wryly. Over the century he had made many enemies. It was surviving the ten assassination attempts that had pushed the curative powers of the ring to their limits. Somehow, he needed to recharge the ring, or find some other power source capable of fighting death. He had gotten a taste of power, and he wanted more. It was no longer enough to delay death; he wanted to stop it entirely. He wanted immortality.

That desperate desire brought him here, to Ireland. When his power first began to wane, he traveled the world, studying ancient mystical texts for anything that could halt the aging process. He learned that there are many places on the earth, specific places where the electromagnetic forces were strongest. Those places since ancient times have been revered in many cultures as holy, sacred. Ireland was just such a place.

Specifically, the area beneath the Cassidy factory. Local lore claimed that buried deep beneath the factory was an ancient temple site once used by practicing Druids. Alexander could physically feel the power radiating from that spot through the power of his ring. Somehow, he had to unleash that power and make it his.

There were many ways of accomplishing his goal, but only if he wanted to draw attention to himself. Which he didn't. So instead he deviated from his normal routine in favor of a more subtle approach. He would find a way to bring the factory under his possession, no one would care if he destroyed his own building.

Alexander smiled to himself, remembering the last few years. He branched out and started a successful company in the same field as Cassidy's; manufacturing automobiles. He soon befriended his chief rival, Lord Cassidy, and met his very beautiful daughter Rhianna.

His eyes smoldered as he pictured her in his mind. She was lovely, a pure flower in a desert wasteland. He desired her like he had never desired anyone in his life. He knew when he first saw her that he had to make her his along with the factory that would be her dowry.

But Lord Cassidy resisted mightily. She was too young for a man of Alexander's age, and the factory's success meant that she could marry of her own choosing. But that soon changed. Thanks to a worker that Alexander planted in the Cassidy factory. It wasn't long before the business began to fail and Lord Cassidy was nearly begging for help in exchange for his daughter's hand in marriage.

Almost. He almost had the luscious Rhianna and her factory in his grasp. Except for that stupid clause in their agreement, which stated that, the wedding would not occur before her seventeenth birthday. Alexander seethed in impatient fury. He couldn't wait that long. He grew older by the day. He had hoped that her father's death due to 'mysterious circumstances' would have hastened their union. But she and her meddling brother chose to be stubborn.

Alexander took another long sip of brandy as a small smile played on his lips. Yes, he would allow them a little time to come to him on their own. Afterwards, he would simply have to take matters into his own hands.