The Bed You Make
Chapter 37
~ Two Masters ~

Business meetings with Sonny Corinthos always happened on his terms. She always went to him at the coffee warehouse at some ungodly early hour of the morning. In that respect, today's meeting was no different. It was just after five a.m. and the sun wasn't even up yet. Sonny's coffee shipments arrived very early in the morning. He explained that the darkness of morning allowed his people to handle the beans without excess exposure to sunlight. Alexis had her own suspicions about the early morning time and the secluded location, but she had never voiced them to her mobster client. As Port Charles' District Attorney, Alexis no longer had the luxury of deliberate ignorance where Sonny's enterprises were concerned. She had agreed to that morning's meeting with the intention of letting Sonny know that she could no longer handle his legal affairs.

Alexis could have driven the route to the coffee warehouse with her eyes closed. It was a pretty straight shot down Central Boulevard a mile and then left onto Pruder for a bit before making the last two blocks down Orleans Avenue - a twelve-minute drive in her silver Mercedes sedan if all the traffic lights were in her favor.

Traffic lights were a moot point that morning. She had already exited Central Boulevard on her way to a small detour, a detour that would take her past the docks used by the denizens of Spoon Island.

Alexis slowed to a crawl a block or two away from the Cassadine docks. It wasn't too late to return to her normal route. Any closer and her presence would be noted on the guards' activity sheet. Alexis didn't want it to appear that she had tried to use Stefan's absence as an opportunity to involve herself again in all things Cassadine.

The decision whether to continue was taken from Alexis' hands by several beefy men that emerged from a parked panel van several feet down the block. They sauntered arrogantly into the street, successfully blocking her way. "You are vantingk to take a detour from here." The beefiest of the group leaned down and spoke through the small crack Alexis put in her car window. His heavily muscled torso completely blocked Alexis' view. "You are vantingk," he emphasized in heavily accented English, "to take it now."

"Is there construction going on ahead?" She was curious about the reason for the roadblock.

"Zere is no construction," the bruiser replied, flexing his considerable muscles. He gave his version of a smile; it was more menacing than jovial. "Zis is not a safe way to be goingk for you."

continued