“Upon my return to Port Charles we will meet and chart out the course of your future,” Stavros informed a sullen Nikolas.
At his words, the young man visibly bristled. “I am no longer a Cassadine,” he began.
It was as far as he got before Stavros' hand shot out and grabbed the back of Nikolas' neck. Under the guise of drawing his son nearer for an embrace, the Prince tightened his grip until the pain radiated down Nikolas' spine. “Your childish tantrums,” Stavros said quietly into his son's ear, “have been indulged far too freely. No more.”
He pushed Nikolas away, staring at his flushed face and shocked expression. “You are no longer dealing with Stefan.”
Nikolas stumbled up the steps of the big Cassadine jet idling on the private runway. Only Stefan, Stavros and Alexandra remained standing outside. Stavros suspected that his younger brother was uncertain whether the Prince would truly allow his new bride out of his sight. Stefan remained directly in Stavros' line of vision, but just out of the range of his conversation with Alexandra.
“Sasha, you will enter Wyndemere as the Cassadine Princess. Both the family and the servants understand exactly what that means.” Stavros saw the uncertainty in Alexandra's eyes. “You needn't worry, Princess. I know that you will justify my faith in you. And should you have any questions, Stefan will be there to assist you.”
“I shall join you at Wyndemere three days from now,” Stavros informed his wife. “Already I look forward to our intimate reunion.” His voice was raspy with desire. “And do not fret,” he murmured. “Though my days will be occupied, I shall spend my nights contemplating ways in which I can make up for the hours I have been denied your delectable body.”