Title: The Road Less Traveled

Author: Christy AKA FallenAngel AKA Girlfearless

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Never will.

Authors Notes: I am so sorry this has taken so long to get post. Honestly, and I hate to say this, it's been written for a few months now. I'm about three chapters ahead at this point so the next few uploads should be coming much, much, much quicker than they ever have before. We are, believe it or not, nearing the end of this story. (I sure as hell can't believe it.) I actually have a reworked version of Identity that I am doing a lot of writing for now. I hope to actually start posting it soon and, if all goes well, it will go much more smoothly than TRLT has.

The truth of the matter is that I am finally in my last year of college (English and Political Science major) so I am going to put as much work as possible into finishing this (which I'm not so worried about) and Identity before I graduate in May, because I really don't think there will be any writing after that. Unless, in the next year, I get much, much better and can actually finds someone to pay me for it. *smiles* Anyway, here is the next chapter of TRLT: read on…

"Katia Alcazar." She felt the man who she now knew as her biological father walk up behind her and figured if either of them was going to break the silence then it might as well be her, especially since they were standing at what should have been her headstone.

"Sophie and I did not discuss names. She was worried that it would be a bad omen considering…"

Emily nodded. "Considering you'd already lost one child."

"Yes."

"And so you picked out a name." She didn't wait for an answer, only kneeled down, collected the bouquet of orchids at her feet, and turned to look at him. "A least they aren't roses."

"My mother," he reached over and took half of them from her hands, laid them back in front of the headstone. "Roses do not appeal to her."

"I can see that. What's up with her, by the way?"

"Up with?"

Emily laughed, she was pretty sure he understood the colloquialism and she was definitely sure he understood that there was something off about his mother. "She cornered me on the stairs this morning told me to stay away from some guy name Jonas because he gets a little touchy with the young lady's."

Lorenzo nodded and look out across his father's land. They'd had the headstone made a month after the car bombing that he believed took the lives of his wife and daughter. It wasn't until after they'd found what was left of Sophie's wedding rings in the pile of rubble that he allowed himself to accept they were really gone.

"Should I?"

"I'm sorry?" He turned back to her.

"Watch out for Jonas? Should I?"

"No." He deadpanned, utterly serious now. "He's been dead for three years."

"Oh. Well…that's…I don't know what that is. Does she think he's dangerous to young women's purity even dead or did she forget he was dead?"

"Either one is a possibility. She's been like this since Luis died. Sometimes she's very lucid and aware of what is happening, other times…" he trailed off and gave a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"Yeah, you say that, and obviously thinking a dead guy is alive falls under not lucid or aware, but sometimes she seems to be completely coherent if not a little manipulative. Like the comment this morning about your father and what was her name—Delia?—that seemed to be pretty pointed."

"Yes," Lorenzo distinctly remembered the conversation from breakfast that morning, especially the part where his mother accused his father of having an affair with one of the young maids.

"So, is it true?" He watched, amazed and she crossed one leg in front of the other, lowered herself to the ground, and stared up at him, her tawny eyes shining with suppressed laughter.

"What?"

"Come on! Is your father playing hide the broomstick with one of the maids?"

"Is he…" He trailed off and scrubbed his hands over his face.

"Oh my God, you are him." She pointed an accusing finger and laughed as his eyes widened comically.

"Him?" Lorenzo twisted to his left then his right, unsure of what she was talking about. "Who?"

"Jason. You are Jason Morgan, right down to the face scrubbing. It's sort of freaky."

"Yes, well—"

"Nuh-uh, no way are you not answering the question. Is it possible? Your father and…"

"That my father is having a relationship with one of the maids? Yes."

"A relationship? I believe your mother's exact words were fu—"

"Yes," Lorenzo interrupted. "I was there."

"Well it's good to know my parents aren't the only ones who can't keep it in their pants."

"Parents?"

"What? You missed the eyebrow raise from your father and the comment about the landscaper?"

"That is not what my father meant, my mother would never…" He trailed off as Emily doubled over with laughter. "My mother would never have an affair."

"Of course not. Absolutely. I'm sure your father is running around screwing all the maids and your mother is just taking it…she really seems like the type." She smiled and tried her best to keep from laughing as she noticed what could only be described as a pout forming on his face. "Listen, I'm sorry. I'm sure your mother is a perfectly fine lady, but your father isn't exactly young and if he's sleeping with one of the maids then he certainly isn't giving your mother what she needs. And neither of your parents is dead so…"

"Yes. I understand. Is there something else you'd rather talk about?"

"Sure," she patted the ground next to him and only scrunched up her face in annoyance with he looked down at her, confused. "Sit."

"I'd rather not."

"Too afraid to get your overpriced suit dirty?"

"No…I just. I don't like to sit there."

"On the ground," she looked around puzzled.

"In front of the headstone."

"Why? No one is actually buried here." When he only shook his head and continued standing she heaved herself up off the ground, took his hand in hers, and moved them both to the granite bench that was a few feet away. "Better?"

"Yes."

"Okay. What takes a year?" she asked. She decided that if he was going to share his life, this place, with her then she might as well share some of her problems with him, especially if he could help solve them.

"Is this some sort of joke?"

She thought about that for a second and smiled. "No. I'm missing a year of my life, I'm sure you've figure that out already. I'm actually twenty-four; I thought I was twenty-three. I need to know where that year went. What takes a year? Making new identities? Hiding from Andrejs? What?"

"Do you know what year you are missing?" He'd been considering this himself and hadn't come up with anything.

"No. No idea, but I'd say it's been at least fifteen years, if not longer since this missing year. So…"

"At that time it may have taken longer to create new identities for you and your mother, especially if Andrejs was looking for her."

"Yeah, I thought about that too, but why would she stay in Arizona? I mean that's where I always remember living. Arizona. Before Daniel died, after he died, until she died. Not in the same town or anything, but still Arizona. Why would she take the risk? It couldn't have just been hiding in plain sight, right?"

"I would assume. Your mother was very intelligent and she would know that staying in Arizona would not necessarily keep Andrejs from finding her. I would tend to agree with you, there had to be another reason. Maybe she did not want you to have to move around too much, she was always talking about settling down, making roots."

"So what would keep a mother who was willing to fake her death to keep her child safe in a place where they might both get hurt? Other than making roots? Assurance?"

"Of what?"

"That Andrejs wouldn't find her, that he couldn't do anything to her if he did find her. I don't know. Maybe…maybe Stefan, but I don't think so…" She trailed off and they both stared down, neither of them aware of the simultaneous sway of their feet, their identical posture, and the focused look on their faces which clearly branded them as father and daughter.

"I had asthma." She turned to look at him and shrugged. "When I was little, I had pretty bad asthma. Dry desert air is supposed to be good for that sort of thing. Right?"

"Why don't you have it now?"

"Don't know. Guess I grew out of it."

"Is that something you grow out of?"

"Beats me. How should I know? I just remember having these horrible attacks when I was younger and then…"

"Yes?"

"They were just sort of gone."

"When was this?"

She laughed, why hadn't she noticed it before? Desert air may or may not have been good for asthma, but panic attacks, fear, to a child her age could easily be explained away as asthma instead of and underlying understanding of what was going on in her home. So maybe she never had asthma, maybe she'd just been anxious all the time. "When Daniel died. When I was six. So I guess that doesn't explain why she stayed. Dammit. I need my medical records."

"Why."

"Because it may just be one year that I'm missing, but there are four years I don't—can't remember. I don't remember my life before Daniel Bowen." She shook her head, disgusted with herself. Most of the time she didn't think about the fact that Daniel hadn't come into her life until she was three, she hadn't even realized the fact until the FBI decided to give her that little tidbit of information. Who remembered their lives from one to three? Nobody. Right? "My mom didn't marry him—or whatever—until I was three years old. That was one of the few things that the FBI told me about, one of the things I didn't remember. So where was she before that? Under Andrejs' protection? Where? And why when I was three? What happened at that time?"

"Blood rites."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't know." It wasn't a question, and he shouldn't have been surprised. There seem to be any number of things that his daughter did not understand about her own life.

He hadn't thought about the ritual, hadn't even considered it because he didn't think there was any way it could have been performed, but how hard would it have been to get to him at that time? How hard… "It is an archaic and irrational ritual that your grandfather believed in very much. It was passed down through generations of his family, generations of many Russian families. When a child is three they are given a small cut on their wrist, their parents are also cut and the blood of the mother, father, and child are mixed together. It is supposed to speak to the purity of the child. Supposed to assure that the child has only the best qualities, what the family believes are the best qualities, of both parents. Your mother had a very small scar on her right wrist from hers. When she was cut she flinched, as children are known to do, and was sliced from the middle of the bottom of her wrist to the middle of the top."

"So what? She left because she couldn't do it or because…"

"Because Andrejs wanted to do it. It would have been done to him and whatever else he may be, Andrejs Nikolai is a believer in ritual and tradition."

"But how could he have gotten your blood? Did you donate or something?"

"No and it has to be taken directly from both parents blood stream and put directly into the child, the Nikolai's have a blade just for the occasion."

She nodded, finally understanding. "I'm guessing that Andrejs didn't expect you to just roll up your sleeve, get sliced, drip the blood into me, and be on your way."

"No, I would expect not."

"He would have killed you for it."

"Certainly."

"So I guess the question now is how did she get out of it? How did she get him to agree not only not to perform the ritual, but also to let her go? I'm sure that Daniel Bowen was the price she paid, but I can't see that being it. Not when he had nothing to lose."

"But he might have had something to lose."

"What?"

"The blood rite is also how the families used to decide succession and inheritance. If your grandfather was as specific in his will as he was in life then I would wager that there was something in it about the blood rite and what happened when it was given to his first born grandchild."

"Me." She smiled. "And being so big on tradition, Andrejs might have actually convinced himself he had to go along with it, but if my pedigree, so to speak, was never proven then it wouldn't matter. There would be no point in him worrying."

"Precisely."

"Would it be of any use to him now...? My blood."

"Because you think he took some out of you when he kidnapped you?" Lorenzo nodded, he'd also been considering this. "I don't know what it would be. When your grandfather died we didn't have much of the technology we have now, there would be nothing that it was useful for then that it could be useful for now. Except DNA."

"And he'd have to be sure, Andrejs. He'd need to sure, wouldn't he, that I am my mother's daughter."

"Yes. And it is possible that he would have something with her DNA on it, which may be the only reason he took your blood."

"May be, but then why not yank out a hair? Why blood?"

"Blood tells."

"Yeah," she laughed. "I keep hearing that."

"He would take it seriously. The man keeps a vial of his own stored in a bank vault."

"His own blood…" She thought about that and something kept bothering her, kept itching at her brain. "Why did my grandfather keep Andrejs around even after realizing how screwed up he was?"

"Loyalty. Andrejs was the son of one of your grandfather's men."

"Yeah, I heard that story, but he didn't run around adopting the children of his other employees that died or marrying their widows, why did he do it this time? Why Andrejs? When did my grandmother die, before or after Andrejs would have been born?"

"Before and no," he'd also traveled this particular road and he could see no reason, other than loyalty, for his wife's father to keep Andrejs around, "your grandfather would not have had an affair. Your mother's parents were not my parents or even your own, they were very much in love and very faithful from what I understand."

"Something here, I just don't know what it is. There is some piece of the puzzle that we have that we just aren't putting in the right place…I know we have it, I can feel it. Like a Where's Waldo book. You know he's there, you've probably even seen him on the page, but you can't quite pinpoint him until you zero in on the right part of the puzzle. We just aren't zeroing in on the right part yet. All this leads back to blood somehow. Everything."

"I would tend to agree, especially with Andrejs' pension for spectacle, but there are quite a few things I did not know about your mother's family."

Emily laughed, it was ironic really, that she knew where she'd have to get all her answers from. "I'm betting Andrejs knows a lot about the Nikolai's though, doesn't he? Even the stuff that happened before he was born. I'm betting he's the kind of guy that would have gone back into the history of the family as much as possible and that was probably a lot easier twenty-five, thirty years ago. As a matter of fact, I'll add one more bet to that, I'll also bet that the biggest reason we're having so much trouble with it now is that after he found out what he needed to know he either destroyed documents, birth records, things like that, or he hid them. What do you think?"

"You are probably right, and Simon would be very helpful with that."

"His lackey. What can you tell me about him?"

"Again, very little. When we were young there was no reason to look into his background and I've found that now it is nearly wiped of much of the information that we need. I do not even know who his family is." He turned to her and watched as her face creased with a question. "What?"

"Is that normal? For someone to be that involved in the business, I mean this guy is connected to the Nikolai's and the Cassadine', right? So how could he be that connected, even as a child, and yet no one knows where he comes from? He didn't just drop out of the sky did he? And he certainly didn't just fall into Andrejs' lap, there had to be some sort of connection there. So what is it?"

"I don't—"

"I wasn't asking you," she interrupted and jumped up off the bench to pace around it. "I'm thinking, about being kidnapped by them, about how something about it was familiar. Like I was being analyzed, I've felt that before."

"Yes, you mentioned that the American FBI used similar tactics." Tactics he hadn't yet decided if he was going to let go unpunished. There was very little he could do to the Bureau itself, but there was quite a lot he could do to those directly involved with kidnapping his daughter from the only life she'd known and setting her on this path. However, he was a pragmatic man and fully aware that if they had not kidnapped her then he may never have known of her existence.

"No, I mean yes, but there is something else. An intensity…" She'd been racking her brain since the kidnapping trying to figure out what about it seemed so familiar and now she was almost there, the connection was right on the tip of her brain. If only she had someone to sit her down again, to go through the problem with her like was done in her… "My FBI training."

"Excuse me."

"There was a man brought in, at first I thought he was a therapist or something and he'd just sit and watch me for hours and talk about nothing, but that wasn't what he was there for. He was there to show me, to teach me things about human nature. He was someone who used to work for the mob and a million other bad people and somehow the FBI brought him down, but that's not the point. The day, hanging in the room, that's the feeling I got, like I was back with him being observed and graded and taught. That's the connection." She dug in her pants pocket and pulled out her phone, before Lorenzo even had time to comment she was dialing the number.

"Hey, David. It's me." She rolled her eyes and gave Lorenzo and exaggerated look of annoyance. "Emily. Yes, Quartermaine. Listen, I need something from you…No, I don't have Nikolai yet. If you would just listen. Shut up…Yes, I'm talking to you. I need you to do something for me. Are you listening? Good. Find me Viktor. Yes, that Viktor. Alright, call me back at this number." Emily hung up the phone and turned back to Lorenzo.

"Viktor?"

"The man who helped…instruct me. Have you ever heard the name before?"

"The name certainly, though I don't have any particular connections with anyone named Viktor."

"Yeah, didn't figure you would have. It's probably not even his real name and if it is I don't know his last name so I need the FBI for this, but that's not the point. The point is that this guy, Viktor, he trained some of the old school hitters and I'm betting that he crossed paths with Simon Morris at some point."

"You believe that is the connection you felt in the room?"

"Yeah, it could be because Viktor trained us both or it could be because either Simon or Andrejs was observing like Viktor used to, but I know there is a connection there."

He looked up at her amazed, even if she was wrong, and he was quite sure that she wasn't, it was an interesting brain that could make a connection that small between two seemingly unconnected men. He certainly would not have figured it out that quickly and, though he loved her mother, he wasn't sure Sophie would have either. So where did she get the insight from: her family, her brother, Sonny Corinthos, the FBI? Who taught her to think of things in such a non-linear manner?

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm impressed and curious."

"Oh." She sat back down, the adrenaline in her veins was screaming at her to run or fight, do something to get rid of the pent up aggression and energy. "Why curious?"

"The way you think is interesting if not somewhat frenzied. Yet there is control there. I was wondering who else you know who thinks like that."

"Oh. I don't know. Lucky maybe, he can be a little hyper sometimes. Nobody really, I guess. My grandfather says it's because I spent so many of my teenage years trying to dodge family arguments, so now I have to keep moving and find a logical answer to a question as soon as possible or I'll end up following someone else's road instead of my own."

"Were they hard on you?"

"The Quartermaines? No, not really. To be honest, I was a little out of control at times. I mean I got addicted to drugs, dated guys they didn't approve of—that no sane parent would approve of—got kidnapped, stuff like that. They were just really overprotective or really under-protective, depending on the situation. I think since AJ and Jason's lives, according to the Quartermaines, got so screwed up, they thought they had to stop mine from getting screwed up too. It was really hard for a while there. AJ and Jason were fighting over Michael, the family waffled back and forth over whose side to take, and then Carly died…there were just a lot of things all going on at once. They wanted to protect me; unfortunately the best way they knew to do that was to smoother me or pay me no attention at all. Like I said, it was hard."

"And now?"

"And now…" She shook her head and looked down at her hands and then lifted them up and spread her fingers. "Now, who knows? There's something brewing under the surface between Jason and AJ and I don't know what it is. And, if you really want the truth, I don't have the energy to care right now. I'll find out when they are ready to tell me."

"They don't get along?"

"That's an understatement." She blew out a breath and looked over at him. She wasn't sure why she was suddenly Miss Open, but what the hell? It wasn't like she'd told him anything he could use against anyone but her. Everyone who knew Jason or AJ could probably see the trouble brewing between them from a mile away. "Here's the issue: AJ wants the family's approval and can't get it, Jason could care less if he had their approval and he does get it, which pisses AJ off. The truth is that my father finally learned what my brother never will, the only way to get Edward Quartermaine's appreciation, or any other Quartermaine for that matter, is not to ask for it. AJ will forever be asking and it bothers him that Jason doesn't want or need it, but he gets it. What he doesn't see is that it wouldn't matter either way, AJ is too much like Alan—except my father has finally stopped searching for his father's approval—and Jason is too much like grandfather. I guess it's just what you deal with in any family, except amplified."

"I see."

Emily laughed and shook her head, "You really don't, but that's okay." She stopped and thought about it for a second. What was she going to do if whatever was going on between Jason and AJ actually had something to do with Ric Lansing and his father? She knew, though she hadn't said it out loud, that it couldn't possibly just be a coincidence that the Lansing's came to town at the same time that tensions began to rise between AJ and Jason again. Hell, if she hadn't known any better she would think that it was… "Shit. Shit, shit, shit."

"I'm sorry," Lorenzo cocked his head to the side to stare at her. "Is there a problem?"

"I…I don't know." She looked across the Alcazar property and back to the main house. "Umm…would you mind…can I have a few minutes to myself and then I'll make my way up to the main house for dinner? It's just…I need to make a call and this one is really more about someone else than it is about me and I don't think they'd appreciate me talking about them with you here. I don't mean to be—"

"Certainly." He stood, dusted off his black slacks, and lightly ran his hand down the side of her face. "Whenever you're ready, come in."

"Thanks." She smiled after him as she watched him walk away and wondered if maybe she was betraying the father who'd spent more than ten years of her life raising her. She loved Alan, with all her heart, but there was baggage with him, with all the Quartermaines, and none of it existed with Lorenzo Alcazar. That baggage was, certainly, part of being a member of any family, especially one as dysfunctional as the Quartermaines, but she was suddenly beginning to realize that starting over with Lorenzo Alcazar may not be as hard as she once thought.

She watched him disappear into the main house and pulled out her phone, dialed the number.

"Spencer."

"Hey Spencer," she smiled into the phone and leaned back into the bench.

"What's up? How's the air down there?"

Emily scrunched up her face and shook her head, "I don't know, but that sounded a little perverted so I'm just gonna ignore it. Listen…where are you right now?"

"Walkin' out of Eli's. I got me and Gia ribs for dinner."

"Great. Where is Sonny?"

"Uh, at the warehouse. Why do I have the feeling that whatever you're calling for is going to get my girlfriend and my boss pissed at me?"

"Well, it is going to get your girlfriend pissed at you, assuming you were supposed to take that dinner straight home, but if we're lucky it'll only get your boss pissed at me. And that's only if he's in a stubborn mood. Is Spinelli at Sonny's?"

"Yeah, Sonny's got the little hacker watching Bella. Which I'm not so sure is a good idea. I don't think I'd leave someone who smokes as much pot as that kid must, to be in the mood he's in all the time, around my little sister."

"Why not? You let your father around her. And really, isn't that worse?"

"Yeah, well, I got no choice about that. It's Grandma Leslie that thinks he should spend time with her."

"Whatever, go to Sonny's and have Spinelli look up something for me. Stay with him until he's done."

"Why can't you just call him?"

She heard the whine in his voice and was tempted to make fun, but she knew that if she did then he'd be less likely to do what she wanted. "Because I need him to do this and I need him to believe that if he tells Sonny then you're gonna do him serious bodily harm. I'd do it myself, but someone suggested that I be exiled to Venezuela, so I can't."

"Yeah, you realize that isn't going to work forever."

"Is it going to work now?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll call Gia and tell her to go visit her brother, he's been making noise about her not coming around enough anyway."

"Great, tell him to search for Ric Lansing's birth records, anything he can find. I want to know if Sonny's mother was around when he was born."

"Uh…Em…Are you sure this is a good idea."

She could hear the hesitation in his voice and it made her want to smile, even after all these years there was still a little part of him that was scared of Sonny. So cute. "Yes, very sure, do you get where I'm going with this?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Listen, if Sonny was thinking about this clearly then he'd be doing it himself, okay? Hopefully we'll find out that she left before the kid was born or years after or something, but we need to know. This could be why they hate him so much."

"Yeah, I don't get that, but I'll check."

"I'd think that you of all people would know what sibling rivalry can do to people, especially if one of your parents happens to hate your brother and the other left said brother with a psychopath. Get me?"

"Yeah, I got you. Geez, you really think that this is what's going on. Ric Lansing is Sonny's brother?"

"I don't know, but it would make sense. Think about you and Nikolas when he first came to town or Jason and AJ now. Have you seen Ric Lansing around Sonny? It's exactly like that. I think I didn't see it earlier because I was so busy worried about everything else."

"And you're sure you see it now?"

She shook her head, annoyed that he wasn't with her to see the look on her face. To see how serious she was about this. "Yes, I'm sure and no, before you even think about asking, this isn't about Jason or AJ or whatever is going on between them…"

"Ah, Em…"

She could hear in his voice that he knew exactly what was going on, but decided to ignore it. "Don't worry about it Luck, one or the other of them will tell me when their ready. Or hell, I'll find out after one has been arrested for trying to beat the crap out of the other. Some things never change."

"They really were good for a while."

"Yeah," she nodded. She knew that, had been impressed by it and was sad to have missed it. "I know, but it never lasts Lucky. Just…just go see Spinelli and have him look this stuff up for me okay? I can only deal with one crappy brotherly relationship at a time and I'm almost sure that the one between Ric and Sonny will be the more dangerous one right now. Got me?"

"Yeah. Got you. Now go get a tan or something."

"Sure. Call me back ASAP."

"Always. Bye, brat."

He hung up and she shook her head as she shoved the cell phone into her back pocket and started her walk back to the main house, "Bye."

"Hey," Lucky walked through Sonny's penthouse door and let it slam closed behind him, "Where's the midget?"

"The..oh, oh. Baby Sir."

"Baby, sir?"

"Yes, Mister Sir's little sister."

Lucky shook his head and sat down on the couch next to Spinelli, "Right. Whatever. Where is she?"

"Uh, oh, right. She's in the kitchen with the domestic goddess, Leticia, making brownies."

"Great. Emily called; she needs you to look something up for her."

A grin split across Spinelli's face and he nodded enthusiastically, "Sure, anything for Misses Sir."

"Misses Sir? God. The Baby Sir thing is kind of cute, but if either Sonny or Jason hears you calling Emily Misses Sir you are gonna be spending the next couple of days collecting what's left of your teeth up off of the ground. And if Emily hears it then teeth won't be a worry because you'll quite simply be dead."

"Oh well, Mrs. Stone Cold didn't have a problem with…"

"Wait? Mrs. Stone Cold. That would be…who?"

"Umm, Brenda? Is that her given name?"

"Yeah. So if she's Mrs. Stone Cold then that would make Jason…"

"Stone Cold."

"Right, you've really gotta chill on the pot kid. It's frying your brain cells."

"Oh, well, I would never—"

"Try it with someone who doesn't know any better, I'm not interested. I need you to look for Ric Lansing's birth certificate or whatever and tell me if a woman named Adella was working for his family at the time of his birth, can you do that?"

"Does the woman in question woman have a last name?"

"Do you have to have it?"

"It depends, I guess."

"On what?"

"Taxes, social security, payroll…" Spinelli started listing things off and before he was halfway through he could see Lucky's eyes glazing over. "It just depends."

"Right, whatever, just look into the records and tell me." Lucky watched the kid boot up the computer, start to type, and then hesitate. "What?"

"Well, it's just, if I knew exactly what I was looking for then I might be able to do this faster. I know, uh, I know that I'm new and you have not had time to test my loyalty yet, but I wouldn't do anything to hurt Little Bella or her formidable big brother, Mister Sir."

Lucky shook his head and groaned. The kid would probably figure it out anyway and they didn't have long before Sonny got home. "I need to know if this woman, Adella, is Ric Lansing's mother and what her relationship with Trevor Lansing was. Can you find that information out for me without being weird?"

"Yes, of course. Uh, I should tell you…well you should know…I know that Mister Sir's mothers name was Adella." Spinelli suddenly became interested in the dirt under his fingernails and after a few seconds looked up at Lucky from beneath his lashes.

"Fine. Whatever. Look-up the information."

Spinelli nodded solemnly and got to work doing what he was good at: hacking. Both men sat quietly, listening to the keys of the computer crackle as the younger man's fingers skimmed quickly across the board.

"What got you started at this?" Lucky leaned back, rested his arms behind his head, and waited for the answer.

"Oh, well, I was just always good with computers; they speak to me like…I don't know. I mean, I guess, I can see it, you know? The internet and code and everything is just running through my head all the time. My grandma used to say that I think in ones and zeros."

"Your grandma?"

"Uh, yeah. That was actually how I met Samantha. Her father tried to con Grandma Spinelli out of money and Sam helped me put an end to his devious activities."

"Why?"

"I…I don't know. I think, I guess, everybody loved my Gran. She was the best person I ever knew."

"She died?"

"Yeah, she had a heart attack and Sam took me in after that. Took care of me."

"So you two are like family now?"

Spinelli turned to Lucky, surprise and delight glowing in his eyes. "Yes, well, I suppose we are. Yes. We are."

Lucky shook his head and smiled. He wondered if that was the first time the kid actually considered the fact that Sam taking care of him when she didn't have to was very much something a family member would do. He also wondered, though it wasn't really his business, why the kid wasn't off somewhere with his mother or father instead of living with Sam McCall after his grandmother died. Not his business.

"Okay, okay, okay. This might be something."

Lucky leaned forward to look over Spinelli's shoulder. "What might be something?"

"A picture. Look." Spinelli turned the computer so that Lucky could see the picture. It was of Trevor Lansing and Adella, both very dressed up with their arms wrapped around each other and a caption that read: Trevor Lansing and an unknown woman purported to be his fiancé.

"Well, isn't that interesting." Lucky stared at the picture for a few seconds and then asked, "Is there any way we can enhance the picture?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. Why?"

"Does she look pregnant to you?"

"I…" Spinelli took a harder look at the picture and shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe?"

Spinelli and Lucky smashed their head together as both of them jumped when the penthouse door was opened. "What are you doing here?" Sonny took off his jacket and threw it over the chair at his desk as he stared at Lucky.

"Well…I was, uh…"

"Sonny!" Bella ran out of the kitchen and flew into her brother arms, never thinking, even for a second, that he wouldn't be able to catch her. "We're making brownies."

"Yes," Sonny reached up and swiped a little of the chocolate off of her face, licked it off his finger, "I see."

She giggled and squirmed out of his arms; as soon as she hit the ground she turned and hopped up onto the couch between Spinelli and Lucky. Both men moved over to accommodate her. "Whatcha doing?"

"I asked the same thing."

Bella started to lean over to play with Spinelli's computer, but abruptly stopped when she saw the picture on the screen. "That's him."

Sonny was up out of his seat and moving Spinelli out of the way before Bella even got the words out of her mouth. "Who?"

"The man," she continued pointing at the screen even as she snuggled under her big brother's arms for protection. "The man who threatened my mom and hit her when I was hiding in the closet. You remember, I told you about him."

"Yeah," Sonny look at the picture and then glared over his little sister's shoulder at Lucky. "I remember. Can you do me a favor darling," he took her cherub face in his hand as she turned to look up at him. "Can you go back into the kitchen and finish helping Leticia?"

"I don't—"

"I promise to come in and help you later. Okay? I just need to talk with Lucky and Spinelli for a little while."

Bella looked between the three men and nodded solemnly as she slipped off of the couch, "Okay."

"What is that?"

"Uh Mister Sir that is, if I may, a picture of…" Spinelli trailed off as Sonny turned to stare at him. "Uh, well, maybe Un—maybe Lucky should tell you."

"Em called me," Lucky looked over at Spinelli, sure the kid was about to call him UnLucky again. "She had a lead she wanted me to chase down and I needed Spinelli's help to do it. I didn't really give him a choice."

"And she didn't really give you one."

"Didn't need to. I thought, and still think, that she was right."

"Okay. About what?"

"Ric Lansing being your brother. She figured, and I agree, that Ric is the child of Trevor Lansing and your mother."

"And neither of you thought to talk to me about this?"

"Yes we thought about it and decided not to."

"Oh," Sonny puffed out a laughed that Lucky didn't for one second believe was friendly. "You decided, did you? When did you start deciding things about my organization?"

"This wasn't about the organization Sonny, or not just about the organization. Emily brought up the point, and it's a good one, that you would have thought of this already if you weren't so close to the situation. Just like she would have realized she needed to leave town for a while if she hadn't been so close to the situation. She's just doing what we did, seeing a problem and correcting it."

"And you also thought you could bring in someone from outside to organization to help you prove this point."

Now Lucky was getting annoyed, he'd dealt, rightfully, with a lot of Sonny's crap over the years, but this was getting ridiculous. He'd been moved up and he was getting sick of being treated like some lackey who guarded the door. "You have him watching your little sister; if you don't trust him then maybe you should rethink that. Emily put me on this track and, obviously, she was right and if you have a problem with that then take it up with her. Also, if you have a problem with me using Spinelli then he shouldn't be here at all."

Sonny thought about it for a second and nodded. "Fine. What are we looking at?"

"A picture of Trevor Lansing and your mother, I think she may be pregnant in it. What do you think?"

He suddenly remembered the look on her face as they packed to leave a house he couldn't quite place. He remembered her stomach growing and her face getting wider, though he'd never equated those things with the possibility if pregnancy before. He always figured it was because she was between men at the time. His mother, as much has a loved her, did not do well without a man in her life and so any health problems or physical changes in would have seen in her at the time probably would have been chalked up to the fact that his father had once again left her alone, with a child to raise. But now that he thought about it...Could she have been pregnant? "Probably."

"So what broke them up, do you know?"

"No. Deke maybe? When, exactly, is this from?"

"Don't know." Lucky turned to Spinelli. "Can you tell?"

"Uh, not exactly. There is no date, but I found it in some old newspaper files and so I can guess that it's from thirty to forty years ago, probably closer to thirty-five. Does that help?"

"Yeah." Sonny looked a Lucky. "That helps. Go in the kitchen with Bella and Leticia. Eat a few brownies or something."

"Uh, yes, Mister Sir. Certainly."

Sonny leaned back into the couch and scrubbed his hands over his face. "What do you think?"

"I think we have a problem. A big one."

"Yeah," Sonny nodded, pulled out his phone, and dialed a number he'd been thinking about calling for hours—though for a completely different reason. When Emily answered he smiled dangerously and Lucky carefully slinked out of the room and out of the line of fire, "Hello, sweetheart, was there something you wanted to talk to me about?"