Dark of the Moon - Chapter 3
"Let me out of here! You can't keep me against my will, you son of a bitch!"
Stefan sighed, dropped several ice cubes in his drink, and pressed the glass to his throbbing temple. Unfortunately, the coolness did little to ease the pounding headache he'd had for the last three hours, ever since he locked Zander Smith in the guest suite.
"Dammit, open this door and let me out!"
Stefan loosened his tie and wearily rubbed the back of his neck. It was time to face facts. His first official day as a father was an unmitigated disaster.
Immediately after leaving the parapet, Zander had tried to escape Wyndemere, only to be restrained by Stefan's guards. Stefan had explained that he wasn't permitted to leave the house. Helena would undoubtedly learn of his location, but meanwhile the family needed to buy as much time as they could and that meant that Zander had to stay hidden. If he wasn't capable of doing that, he would be confined. Zander listened quietly, then told Stefan to go to hell, and made another break for it. This time the guards nabbed him just outside the main gates.
Three more times in the first twenty-four hours, Zander tried to escape. Finally, Stefan made good on his threat and locked him in one of the guest suites. Zander went crazy with rage and broke every stick of furniture in the room, including several priceless antiques. When there was nothing left to break, he started kicking the massive oaken door and yelling at the top of his lungs, and had managed to keep it up for the last hour.
"Let." BAM! "Me." BAM! "Out" BAM! "Of." BAM! "Here!" BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
Stefan winced. He had no doubt the door would hold, but obviously he couldn't keep Zander locked up for the rest of his life--although the thought was tempting. But how the hell could he get him to understand the terrible danger he was in? Alexis had retired with a stress-induced migraine, and Nikolas had disappeared, probably to the stables. That left Gia.
"Doesn't he understand" Stefan raged. "Does he want to die? Does the boy have no sense of self-preservation whatsoever?"
"No." Gia looked up from her fashion magazine. "Really, he doesn't."
"Explain," Stefan snapped.
"Zander doesn't particularly care if he lives or dies."
"That's insane."
"That's Zander." Gia shrugged, and flipped a page. "After all, he did try to kill himself a month ago."
Stefan shook off that disturbing thought. "This can't go on. How can I get him to understand that his life depends--"
"Tell him it's for Alexis." Gia turned another page.
"Excuse me?"
She sighed and looked up. "Don't tell him his life depends on it. Tell him Alexis' life depends on it, and Kristina's, too. Explain that Helena is a threat to them, not him."
"Would that work?"
"He'd do anything for Alexis."
Stefan hesitated, and Gia rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll do it." She rose languidly, tossed aside her magazine, and left the room.
She returned five minutes later and curled up on the couch again. "He'll stay. He's not happy about it, but he'll stay."
The far-off sound of breaking glass punctuated Gia's remarks, and she smiled. "I always hated that lamp," she said and went back to reading her magazine.
***
Zander showed up at breakfast the next morning, fifteen minutes after everyone else was seated and looking much the worse for wear. He'd clearly slept in his clothes, if he'd slept at all, and still bore bruises from various scuffles with the guards.
He stood uncertainly in the doorway for a few moments before anyone even noticed him. When they did, there was an awkward silence. Then Zander spoke.
"Sorry. I was looking for Alexis."
"She's resting." Nikolas said. "She has a headache."
"Okay." Zander turned to leave, but Gia patted the empty chair beside her, mischief gleaming in her eyes.
"Zander, come and sit next to me," she said. "Don't be shy."
Zander glanced at Nik, saw the scowl on his face, and smiled. "Don't mind if I do," he said, and sat.
"Good morning," Stefan said stiffly. "Perhaps you didn't hear the bell."
"Huh?" Zander looked at Stefan, confused.
"In this household, breakfast is served at seven. A bell is rung immediately beforehand, and prompt attendance is expected." Stefan had woken up that morning and decided to lay down the law with Zander. This was obviously the time to start. "Mrs. Lansbury works hard to keep a schedule, and as long as you are under this roof you are expected to maintain it as well."
"Ohh-kay," Zander replied. He rolled his eyes at Gia, who smirked.
"Don't worry, Mr. Cassadine," Mrs. Lansbury said hastily. "I'd be happy to warm something up for the young man and--"
"No, thanks," Zander said. "I'll snag something later."
"Excuse me?" Mrs. Lansbury turned a little pale.
Zander shrugged. "I don't do breakfast." Oblivious to Mrs. Lansbury's horror, he glanced around the table.
"Is there something you require?" Stefan asked icily.
"Yeah. Coffee." Zander looked expectantly at Mrs. Lansbury, who twisted her hands nervously in her apron.
"Generally in this household we serve tea," Stefan said.
Zander stared at Stefan as if the older man had two heads. "No coffee?" His voice broke in agony.
Gia giggled, then hid her smile behind her napkin when Nikolas glowered at her.
"Does something amuse you, Gia?" Stefan asked.
She shook her head and pressed her lips together.
"I think we may have some coffee in the pantry from the last gathering," Mrs. Lansbury said.
"Great, I'll make it." Zander shoved his chair back and made to stand.
"Sit down," Stefan barked, and Zander gaped at him. "Mrs. Lansbury, if you would be so kind."
"Of course, sir." She hurried out of the room.
"It's no problem--" Zander began.
"I said. Sit. Down. Or do I need to lock you up again?"
Zander's face went red with anger, and he stared down at the table, toying restlessly with the silverware. Stefan took a file from the sideboard and put on his glasses. "I've been studying your history, Alexander," he said. "And it's obvious to me you've lived a dissolute life."
Zander looked up, now more amused than angry. "Dissolute?"
"Lawless, undisciplined, wasteful." Stefan glanced at the file. "I'm happy to see that your criminal activities seemed to have ceased, but your education has been sorely neglected."
"My education?"
"I see you left what passes for school in this country when you were fifteen. I'm assuming you haven't pursued any additional coursework since then?" Stefan looked sternly at Zander over the tops of his glasses.
"Breaking and Entering 101," Zander muttered. Gia giggled again.
"What was that?" Stefan barked.
"Nothing," Zander glanced sideways at Gia, and they smiled at each other like naughty children.
Nikolas spoke up. "Gia, may I speak to you in private?"
"But Nikolas, darling," Gia cooed. "I haven't finished my breakfast."
Ignoring them, Stefan took off his glasses and folded his hands on top of the file. "I think it's time I made my intentions clear."
Zander muttered something that sounded like "Whatever," and continued stabbing at the table with an ornate silver butter knife.
"Obviously, I cannot claim--would you stop that?"
Zander looked up. "What?"
"Your great-great-grandmother Katya smuggled that silver out of Russia. I would appreciate it if you would use it only for the purpose for which it was intended."
"Okay, okay." Zander put the knife down and toyed with his water glass instead
Stefan took a deep breath and continued. "Obviously, I cannot publicly acknowledge you as my son."
"Obviously," Zander sneered.
"I can, however, see that you are financially--"
"I don't want your money."
There was dead silence. Everyone stared at him.
"Excuse me?" Stefan asked faintly.
"You heard me."
"What's the matter, Zander?" Nikolas sniped. "Is Cassadine money not good enough for you?"
Zander ignored him and glared at Stefan. "I don't want your money, I don't want your name, I don't want jack from you. All I want is my life back."
"Living over a tavern, working on the docks," Stefan sneered. "You call that a life?"
"Works for me."
Stefan felt his own rage growing. "You can defy me all you want, Alexander, but the truth is I'm still your father and-"
"You're not my father."
Stefan stared at him again. "Alexander, we've been over this. The proof is incontrovertible--"
"You're not my father," Zander repeated. "You're just some jerk who couldn't keep it in his pants."
There was a gasp, then a crash as Mrs. Lansbury dropped a pot of coffee in the doorway.
There was silence again--not just a dead silence this time, but the still, rotting, putrefying, two-week-old corpse of a silence.
"What," Stefan asked, "did you just say?"
Zander looked nervous, but stubbornly set his jaw. "Just because you knocked up my mother--"
Stefan stood, slamming both hands on the table so hard the dishes danced. Zander jumped in spite of himself. Gia whimpered, Nikolas blanched, and Mrs. Lansbury stood trembling in the doorway, too terrified to move.
"Don't you ever--EVER!--speak about your mother that way again! Do you hear me?" Stefan roared.
Zander stared down at the tabletop, trembling.
"Look at me, Alexander. Look at me!" When Zander hesitated, Stefan stalked around the table, grabbed Zander's chin, and forced his head up. "I said, look at me when I'm talking to you!" Stefan took a deep breath, then spoke very quietly. "If I ever--ever!--hear one disrespectful word about your mother cross your lips, I will personally drag you to the stables and horsewhip you. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," Zander whispered.
"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"
"Yes!"
"Good." Stefan dropped Zander's chin abruptly, and the young man stared at the table, fighting tears. Stefan pointed to the broken coffee pot on the floor. "Now clean up this mess for Mrs. Lansbury. I expect to see you in my office in fifteen minutes, where we will discuss your future as a Cassadine." Without waiting for reply, Stefan strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Round two goes to Dad, he thought.
To be continued....
