A/N: Got a question about Petros & Dimitri Cassadine. All I can say is - stay tuned!
Anxiety never suited Michael Corinthos.
One would think that growing up the way he did, being in the middle of mafia violence and continued deception, he would have hardened emotionally and panic was a memory from long ago. But instead he sat in the bay window of the Quartermaine kitchen nook, biting the tip of one thumb as the other hastily pressed down on the touch-screen of his phone.
To: Dex (6:36 AM)
Hey any updates w/ Sonny?
You said you were meeting w/ him
To: Dex (6:44 AM)
Dex call me when you get this
To: Dex (6:53 AM)
Everything ok?
Need to hear from you ASAP
"Everything okay?"
A jolt caused Michael's head to snap up. Brando Corbin stood a foot or two away, his hands in his jeans pockets. Michael sighed in relief, closing his phone and placing it face-down on the table.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," Michael chuckled.
"You sure? You were biting your thumb so hard I half-expected you to start bleeding."
"Not at all. I'm not nearly that masochistic."
"Okay," Brando sighed, moving closer to Michael, "Mind if I sit with you?"
"Go ahead," Michael scooted over as his cousin took his seat, "What's up?"
"Well, first off, you seemed a little upset while on the phone. Did something happen?"
"Just something with Aurora, nothing major. Anything else?"
"I wanna talk about Sonny."
"...No."
"Michael-" Brando began before flinching at Michael shooting up from his spot. He walked around the table, his hands on his hips, "Please?"
"Did he send you?" Michael asked, the words rapidly spilling from his mouth.
"No-"
"I was really hoping we could just move on from all of this. I made my decision about him and for some reason, you guys just can't respect that."
"Michael-"
"You know, you have a lot of nerve coming here and trying to pry some discussion about my father from me-"
"Michael!" Brando boomed, standing up, "Listen to me for a second. Just one second. Can you do that?"
"...What is it?" Michael sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I get you've made your decision about Sonny, and I respect that. I just want all the fighting to stop," Brando put a hand up, "You don't have to like Sonny, you don't have to honor anything he says, you guys just have to learn to coexist."
"I've kept my nose clean, Brando. I'm not looking to start any trouble."
"Are you sure? Almost every time you and Sonny are in the same room, you've always fought with him."
"Are you saying that it's my fault when we fight?"
"No-"
"I mean, you see how he just walks around like nothing's wrong, like nothing he did was wrong. He acts like we're all insane, that our qualms about the whole Nixon Falls situation are unfounded."
"I know-"
"And for him to be with Nina? The woman who withheld information he deserved to know? The woman who has caused so much drama and anxiety for my family even beyond those nine months?"
"Well, it was six months-"
"Are you serious, Brando?" Michael spat, throwing his hands out, "Are you seriously trying to minimize all of this?"
"No, not at all," Brando put his hands up in defense, "I'm just keeping the facts straight."
"Whatever," Michael rolled his eyes, "I think we're done here."
"I don't think so."
"Excuse me?"
"You've said your piece, Michael. Now it's my turn," Brando approached his cousin, placing a hand on his shoulder, "And I want you to hear me out, okay?"
"Okay."
"I know that tensions are high right now between you and Sonny, and it's filtered down to practically every other member of the family. You, your mother, and your sister are in one camp and Sonny's in the other."
"And where do you stand?"
"In the middle."
"Why?"
"Because it's not about me. And it's not about you either."
"Sonny's your cousin, he's my father. It involves me."
"But it's not about you."
Michael bit his lip, glaring at Brando. He tucked his hands in his back pockets, gently swaying back and forth as he took in Brando's words and the stern expression that accompanied them.
"I'm not gonna act like I'm okay with what Sonny decided. His decision to choose a life with Nina despite everything he's been through because of her…it's baffling. But while I'm not personally happy with it, I can at least respect it and tolerate it."
"Well, Brando, Sonny didn't cheat on your mom with Nina-"
"I'm pretty sure that would be illegal."
"I-" Michael ran a hand down his face, conceding a laugh. Brando smiled at him in return.
"All I'm saying is that you just gotta respect Sonny's choice to move on with Nina. You don't have to support it, but to respect it. And that when you're in the same room, you both act civil."
"I…alright," Michael sighed, "I'll play nice, but if Sonny starts provoking crap like I know he does, all bets are off."
All Brando could do was nod, before backing away from Michael and exiting the kitchen nook. In the distance, Michael heard the front door to the mansion slam shut. He ran a hand through his hair before going to get his phone, still face-down on the table.
The screen clicked on: no new notifications.
"Alright, my dear Helena, what have you hidden in these shelves?"
Victor ran a hand against a number of spines in the Wyndemere study. Books in dark reds, browns, and golds lined each bookshelf, and scattered papers rested on the main desk. Victor moved to a corner of the room, which had a pair of brown leather chairs and a glass bottle of alcohol resting on the golden end table. Taking one of the empty glasses in his hand, Victor poured himself a drink.
"Now, if I were Helena," Victor pondered, clearing his throat. The drink tasted bitter, "where would I keep incredibly private information?"
He went drawer-by-drawer in the desk, digging through supplies, assorted papers, and broken quill pens. In the center drawer existed Helena's journal, a book Victor skimmed a handful of times. He thumbed the pages one more time, scanning each word of the worn pages. After reading how Nikolas managed to end her life for the umpteenth time, Victor closed the journal, an exhausted sigh leaving his lips.
He examined the book from the outside, and caught a small pocket of air that existed between some pages in the middle. He reopened the journal and caught small shreds stuck to the spine. Putting the journal back, Victor dug through the drawers a second time, examining each of the loose papers that even slightly resembled the ones in the journal.
Eventually, he found a lead:
"My dear daughter is doing everything I've requested of her. That bastard child Luke Spencer brought into the world is falling for her charms, hook, line, and sinker, even if her whimsical words are a bit corny and lackluster in nature. But that doesn't matter; he rang in 2012 under her spell, and he'll soon enough be underground. All those years in the compound are now paying off, and soon enough, she'll be able to do what my other children couldn't - secure us a victory in this war."
"Irina…" Victor sighed out, examining the entry just as the echo from the front door closing found its way into the study. He could hear Ava's chipper tone, and a young male voice responding in kind. The words were indecipherable, and Victor heard the echo of the door close again.
"There has to be more…" he muttered to himself, laying the page on top of the desk. He continued to rifle through the drawers, pulling out a few more pages with the same cursive on it.
"It's so unfortunate that yet another child failed me. Everything was set up for her to succeed, and yet she betrayed me. Her delusions of love and desire for independence swallowed her whole, and her undoing had to come at my hands. And to think, she could've brought the Cassadines a long-awaited victory. She could've gotten the remaining parts of her memory back; the one piece of herself she brought into the world a decade-and-a-half ago…"
"The one piece of herself…" Victor repeated quietly, "Fifteen years ago…"
"A week after the incident, I still find myself lamenting what could've been with my dear Irina. It's so unfortunate I had to punish her with a bullet through her chest; maybe I'll give her a second chance one day. That's quite unlikely though - I know he's out there. I know he's hiding with his bastard father: a man I was stupid enough to trust around her. I know he's living a life away from the Venice of the North, oblivious to his heritage. It's only a matter of time before I find them both, and I will make that bastard regret enmeshing himself with my daughter."
"Ah, Helena," Victor smiled, rereading the last entry he found, "it seems you kept a lot more from us than a daughter…"
His eyes darted around the room, scanning each book spine before him. He got up and made his rounds once more, the leather brushing against the pads of his fingers. A smirk crossed his face, pondering the contents of the entries that were ripped out of Helena's journal.
"What did Irina produce to make you so…bitter? Who is this 'bastard' who 'enmeshed' with your dear daughter? Who's hiding out there?"
Suddenly, his index finger sliced open, the skin being caught on a paper barely poking out from between two books. Hissing, Victor gently nursed his wound before looking at the paper. The tip of what looked to be a folded corner was stained with his blood. Pulling out the paper, he unfolded it and poured over the black text.
A birth certificate.
Each word felt like a sledgehammer to the gut. For a split second, Victor thought it was a trick, just another ploy by Helena she never got to use against her enemies. But the more he took in the content, the bigger his doubt grew.
There's another one.
Victor pocketed the birth certificate in his blazer, looking around the room. He returned to the desk and pocketed the journal entries as well. Closing the study door behind him, Victor walked back to the living room, gazing at the furniture and art that decorated the walls. He strolled towards the window to the left of the fireplace, gazing down at the shoreline. He watched as Ava marched across the beach, Nikolas trailing behind her.
A man with dirty blonde hair was right behind the woman. Victor raised an eyebrow at the man; he looked thinner than the other associates he's come to know from Sonny. The man was dressed in khaki shorts and a navy T-shirt, an outfit that wasn't customary of Sonny's men. The Spoon Island sand swallowed his feet as Ava led him to the rocks that stood in the area before them, directly under the castle parapet.
"What could the tides have brought in by the rocks, Ava?" Victor questioned, "What surprises are there?"
Turning away, he pulled the birth certificate out from his blazer and re-examined it. He then pulled out his phone and searched through his contact list, stopping at his destination. His eyes danced over the words as the dial tone hummed in his ears.
"We just spoke!" Valentin groaned, "This better be good!"
"It seems your mother left behind some…interesting information."
"What?"
"There's more to Irina than meets the eye, and it's something I'd like to discuss with you. In person, preferably."
"Where are you currently?"
"Wyndemere. Nikolas and Ava are outside with one of Sonny's men. For the time being, anyway."
"...I'll be there soon."
"Excellent," Victor turned back to look down at the shore. He watched as Sonny's associate disappeared into the rocks with Nikolas and Ava, "because what I've discovered is something that just simply cannot wait."