A/N: Words cannot express how excited I am to be writing this sequel. I loved "how to keep house while drowning" and it means the world that you all loved it too! There is so much more story to tell here, and what better way to start than picking up right where I left off? Buckle up - it's going to be quite the ride!

In the moment, a million panicked thoughts race through her mind, but not a single one sticks around.

Kristina's eyes stay glued to the corpse laying at her feet, her body still as a statue. Her voice is hoarse and dry, her throat aching as she attempts to clear both it and her nose. Time stops around her, frozen in place the longer she stays upright.

"D-Dad…" her voice cracks as she barely gets the word past her lips, "Dad…?"

Sonny lays right at her feet, his brown loafers pointed apart and his legs separated. He rests in a star shape, arms outstretched while his fingers curve upwards. His eyes are wide and devoid of its soulful brown color, shock frozen in his irises, while his face is a shade of pale white she hadn't ever seen before. A perfect circle sits squarely at the center of his forehead, blood around the edges while a larger pool spreads underneath his dyed black hair.

It all cycles through her head on an infinite loop: her pulling away, the buzz running past her ear, the sudden appearance of the bullet wound, and the kingpin tipping over onto his back. Her throat closes up, air barely making its way through the windpipe. Tears sting her eyes, streams freely flowing down her face in jagged patterns. She's not sure what to do next, and an infinite number of options fall at her feet. Should she approach what's likely her father's corpse? Should she call for help? If so, should it be over the phone or through a piercing, heart-wrenching scream.

Dad… she attempts to look into his empty eyes, searching out any sign, any hint, that the man she knows and loves and shares an irreplicable connection with, is still inside the body lying on the pier. Her body remains rigid, arms and legs heavy like stone while her mind is scrambled, Dad…

Everything is frozen in time, and she barely processes her surroundings. She barely registers the sound of the lake in her right ear, the waves gently smacking the pier's concrete dock, and she barely registers footsteps charging her way in her left.

"Kristina-" Frank bellows, taking a few deep breaths as he skids to a halt, his gun pointed downward. He takes in the body at her feet, eyes wide with horror. Two other guards come up behind him, their faces aghast with horror. The young woman approaches her father, her steps staggered yet firm before she drops to her knees. Her eyes continue to burn, her cheeks cracking the dried moisture on her cheeks. Her breathing picks up speed as her fingers touch the man's neck, his skin faintly warm. She bends down and rests her head on her chest, shakily sighing in defeat when she's unable to find any presence of life.

"What happened?" Frank asks, the silence persisting. Kristina eventually sits up, wiping her face. She looks at Frank, who gently melts at her sorrow, before looking behind her. The men follow her gaze, and Frank walks up next to her to get a better look. His ears pick up a faint whizzing noise, panic immediately spiking.

"Move!" he bellows, yanking Kristina to her left. A barrage of bullets narrowly miss their target, following the two until they hide away. His look is fierce, "What the hell happened?"

"We…" her words are full of air, "We were just…talking. It happened so fast, I don't know-"

"Are you okay? Were you hit?" Frank jostles her, looking around her.

"No, no, I'm fine. It went…It was just…right over my head-" she stares off into space, the moment instantly replaying in her mind.

"I'm sorry we couldn't get here sooner."

She blinks at the bodyguard as he turns away, scanning the pier, "...I'm sorry too."

"What do we do?" one of the bodyguards bellows at Frank, who then turns to the young woman.

"What?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"We're going to follow your lead here, Kristina. What do you want us to do?"

"I-" she looks around rapidly, the dried tears gently cutting her cheeks, "Ah-"

Another round of gunfire strikes the concrete, causing the group to huddle together in the covered hallway. The bodyguards draw their guns while Frank cuddles Kristina close, her eyes tightly shut and her hands over her ears, Sonny appearing in her pitch-black vision. It takes everything within her to keep herself together.

"Frank!" one of the bodyguards calls out, and the man in question moves closer. Kristina inches behind him, staying hidden under the platform. The three men look up towards a watch station on the pier, eyeing its exact distance before scurrying back under the platform, the next set of bullets just barely missing each one of them.

"Come on," Frank gently grips Kristina's upper arm, guiding her away from the pier and into the parking lot. He stays put with the young woman while the other two bodyguards separate themselves, waiting for his commands, "Go and see who's in that watchtower. Shoot to kill."

"God…" Kristina chokes out, her legs jelly. Frank keeps a tight hold on her arm as she slides down to the ground, breaking down completely, "God…oh my God…"

"Take it easy, Kristina, okay?" the man drops to one knee, "Deep breaths. We're going to get whoever did this to Sonny."

"I…ah…"

"Do you want me to call someone?"

Kristina opens her mouth to respond, her words stuck in her throat. She sobs once more, seeing the image of her father's body over and over again. Frank opts to sit next to her, pulling her into a firm side-hug. They sit together just as the two other bodyguards return, disappointment present in their hardened faces.

"The shooter took off," one says, frowning.

"Did they leave any evidence?"

"Not that we could see, no," the other answers just as flashes of blue and red light suddenly grow closer. Frank helps Kristina up as a few police cars pull into the parking lot, with Detective Chase emerging first.

"Kristina," the man quips as he approaches her, "what are you doing here? Did you see the shooter?"

"No," the bodyguard replies. Kristina shakes her head alongside him. She catches Dante out of the corner of her eye as he takes a few cadets with him, traversing towards the docks. She attempts to free herself from Frank's grip, only to get caught up in Chase's.

"Whoa," the detective remarks, pulling her towards one of the police cars, "this is a crime scene. You can't go back there."

"Please, Chase," she forces the words out of her mouth, "I need to talk to Dante."

"He's going to check out who it is, but in the meantime, I need to talk to you."

"I can do that later, Chase. Just please…please let me see my brother-"

Chase shakes his head, stopping when he sees Dante emerge from the area he entered into before. Kristina looks in the same direction, instantly rushing towards him. Her arms open the moment she reaches her destination, and Dante swiftly swallows her whole. Chase and Frank inadvertently corner them, flinching when they hear Kristina's broken cries.

"W-Who is it?" Chase asks, his tone nervous as he takes in the distance in Dante's brown pupils.

"...It's my dad."

The air gets sucked out of the area in an instant. Chase's breath stops midway through his throat, and he attempts to reach a comforting hand out towards Dante's open shoulder. It drops instead, and an ambulance arrives as a few officers surround him.

"Let's, uh, mark off the crime scene," Chase clears his throat. He then approaches the paramedics, a gurney sturdy in their grip, nodding at them before they all make their way towards the dock. The siblings stay put, Dante's hand traveling up and down Kristina's back as he does his best to keep himself together, each cry from beneath him making it harder for him to do so.

"I'm sorry…" he mutters, his voice low and soft. The words repeat themselves as a chant, its reassuring effect minimal. Kristina eventually pulls back from him, a litany of tears brutally staining her face. He runs his thumbs across her face, doing his best to wipe it clean.

"D-Dante…" Kristina chokes out, noticing the restrained sorrow in his eyes.

"Come on," he hastily replies, walking her towards the same car Chase took her to. He opens the back door and helps her sit down, squatting to be level with her. His tone is gentle as he takes her hand in his, "What happened?"

She sniffs loudly before opening her mouth, "I…I was with Dad at t-the pier, and w-we were just talking about our lives and…and…"

"Did you see what happened?"

"I…" she gasps as she inhales, "I saw him…f-fall over…and…there was a…b-bullet wound-"

"Where?"

Kristina places her index finger at the center of her forehead, which prompts Dante to flinch and glance away, "God, Krissy, I'm so sorry."

"I…" she hiccups, "I didn't…I didn't s-see who did it. It…It went r-right past my head and h-hit him."

"It didn't hit you?" the elder brother examines her head. She shakes it in response, "And you didn't see who did it?"

"N-No. Frank…" Kristina coughs, "came and so did some other b-bodyguards. They…checked out that tower."

Dante follows her pointed finger, "They think the shooter worked from up there?"

"The shooter…kept f-firing when they c-checked out t-the area. They…They looked in the t-tower but…there w-wasn't anything to find."

"Okay…okay," he gets to his feet, helping her up, "Well, uh, I can take you to the station and you can give your statement…or I can take you home."

Kristina sucks her lips in, eyes brimming with a new set of tears.

"Here, let me call Dex," Dante pulls out his cellphone, "and let him know I'm dropping you off. I think seeing him and Ciara will do you a lot of good right now."

The room exists in a frozen pocket of time, stuck in a complete standstill when the news hits Dex's ears. He blinks a couple times at Nikki, who keeps her shaky yet firm composure.

"AJ?" he asks slowly, his words airless, "AJ Quartermaine…?"

"Yes," she nods, "AJ is your father."

"Oh God…" the young man stands up, pacing around the back of the sofa, "I can't…I can't believe this."

"I'm sorry, baby."

"You've been saying that a lot."

"I really am," Nikki stands up, approaching him. She tries to take his hand, flinching when he swiftly pulls it away, "Please, Dex, just…please."

"If you're looking for forgiveness, you're not going to get it."

"I…I'm not-"

"Mom," he faces her directly, his blue eyes cutting her down, "no amount of begging will get me to change my mind. You can apologize and grovel until you turn blue in the face, and it won't change a thing."

"I don't expect you to forgive me, at least not for awhile-"

"Or ever."

"The point is," she shoots him a reserved glare, "you deserved to know the truth from the source instead of how your father painted it."

"That man is not, and has never been, my father. And you know damn well that learning about this would've gone poorly for you regardless of who told me. I mean, was I ever even going to find out?"

Nikki doesn't respond, which causes Dex's blood to boil further. He lets out a loud grunt as he runs his hands down his face.

"I love you, Dex," she says, "I did what I thought was best for you."

"What was best for me was having a parent who actually cared about me."

"I cared about you-"

"When no one was looking."

"Things weren't easy for me either, okay? Things between me and…Arthur," she notes Dex's glare, "weren't great, and they hadn't been for years."

"Yeah, because of me."

"Because of me. You were innocent in all of this."

"Was I?"

Nikki turns away, shaking her head, "You don't understand."

The young man stops himself, taking a deep, heavy breath, "Then help me understand."

"The man that you grew up with wasn't the same man I married. I fell for a charismatic, chivalrous, business-savvy real estate mogul who embraced being a father. There wasn't any tension or fear, and he wanted nothing more than for me to be part of his family…and then I had you."

Dex casts his eyes at the floor, disappointment creeping in. Nikki notes his posture before she takes a seat on the sofa again, and he joins her.

"I didn't know that he knew you weren't his," she continues, finally able to take his hands in her own, "To me, it was like something just…snapped inside of him, and he was standoffish and kept to himself and his sons. Getting him to bond with you was like pulling teeth, and when it came to what your brothers did…"

"He said he never told Chris and Ty to target me. I don't know if I believe him."

"...Boys will be boys," Nikki shrugs, tears in her eyes.

"Boys will be boys," Dex echoes her in a mutter, flinching when she says it. The woman lets him go, getting to her feet as she approaches the photos of Ciara that hung over the television.

"You love your daughter, right?" she asks.

"Yes. With everything I have."

"You want to do everything in your power to make sure she's safe and healthy, right?"

"Absolutely."

"Well, sometimes, that doesn't always work out exactly as you want it to. There's no blueprint for being a perfect parent; you just need to be good enough."

"And you think you were good enough?"

Nikki doesn't respond, keeping her back to her son. Dex shakes his head, letting out a sigh.

"I did my best," she finally looks at him, "and while I'm not proud of what happened, I'm proud of how far you've come, and I know I should've done more to protect you."

"At least you can acknowledge that."

"You're my son," she sits down on the sofa, cupping both of his cheeks, "and you mean a lot to me, even if I don't show it all that well. I wouldn't have come out here at all if I didn't care about you."

Dex averts his eyes, doing his best to keep himself together, "You're the only piece of your father that I have, and that matters. Hiding that from you accomplished nothing."

"...W-Why are you actually here?"

"I love you, Dexter. I wanted to make sure you were doing okay."

The young man opens his mouth to speak, a vibration in his back pocket stopping him. He gets up and checks the device, raising an eyebrow at Dante's contact on the screen, "Hello?"

"Hey, Dex, uh, are you busy?"

He glances at Nikki for a brief moment, "No. Why?"

"I'm on the way to the penthouse. Kristina's with me. She…She could really use you and Ciara right now."

"Did something happen?"

"I'll explain when we get there…but yes."

"O-Okay. I'll be here. Thanks," Dex hangs up.

"That's my cue to leave, I guess," Nikki collects her belongings, giving her son another hug. He doesn't fully reciprocate, "I love you, baby. I hope we can see each other again before I leave."

"I'll think about it," Dex nods meekly as he shows her the door, shutting it behind her. He paces around the living room as time ticks by, his hands wildly running through his short, dirty blonde hair. A firm knock from outside sucks him back into reality. A force strikes him when he opens the door, Kristina's arms around him as tight as can be.

"Whoa," he huffs out, immediately cuddling her back, "hey, what's wrong? What happened?"

"If you can believe it, she's not the cause," Dante forces a chuckle, stopping when he notices Dex's raised eyebrow, "...There was a shooting tonight."

"What?! Where?!"

"At the pier."

"And she was there?! Was she shot at?!"

"She was in the area…but I don't think she wasn't the target."

"Who was?"

"...Sonny."

The young man's breath hitches in his throat, "...No. Please. I can't take any more bad news tonight. Please, Dante, please tell me the shooter missed him, or that he's hurt but he'll pull through-"

"No," the detective tries to clear his throat, "no, he's…he's dead. He's gone."

Dex keeps Kristina locked against him as she breaks down in his arms, his heart stopping once he processes the news. Tears of his own well up, and he rocks the young woman from side to side, kissing the top of her head.

The detective lowers his head at the sight, takes a deep breath, then lifts it back up, tears beginning to fall. Dex catches the process, extending an arm out to the man. Kristina pulls back when Dante obliges, the men firmly slapping each other's backs in their embrace.

"I'm so sorry," Dex's voice cracks, his face reddening. Dante doesn't answer, keeping himself in place as he shakily attempts to keep his composure. He eventually lets Dex go, wiping his face clean.

"I, uh, should go," the detective says, "I'm still on the clock and…uh…"

"Take it easy, man. Please."

"I'll do my best," he nods, looking towards his younger sister, "Take care of her."

"I will."

Dante nods a second time, giving a nonverbal goodbye as he exits the penthouse. Dex immediately wraps an arm around Kristina, who stiffens at his touch.

"I'm sorry," she speaks softly.

"For what?"

"B-Bothering you. I…I know we have an agreement and I s-shouldn't be here at all-"

"Stay."

Her eyes light up, broken apart by her tears. She tries to respond, instead letting herself fall into the young man's embrace. He keeps one arm around her shoulders as he guides her upstairs to the master bedroom, loaning her a shirt to sleep in. Kristina's gaze is heartbroken when she sees Ciara's sleeping form in the crib in the corner, and the only thought she has is the desire to pull the baby into bed with her. She instead settles into bed and cuddles against Dex, the sound of his steady heartbeat lulling her to sleep.