Chapter Forty-Seven
Maxie sat down gingerly in the rocking chair and avoided Frankie's gaze. She rocked the chair slightly as her pretty features screwed up into a frown.
Frankie felt his heart drop at Maxie's reaction and desire to be away from him, and he wheeled his chair close enough so he could take her hand into his. Maxie pulled her hand away and glared at him before averting her eyes.
"What's wrong?" Frankie asked carefully. He longed to reach out to Maxie again, but didn't want to be rebuffed a second time.
"What do you think?" Maxie asked shortly. "Sly barged into here and caught us. I'm embarrassed. Aren't you?"
"He didn't see nothin.' He was too upset. He wanted to leave with Luke's camcorder. Don't worry about it."
Maxie hesitated, grateful for the possibility of Sly being obtuse. "Maybe."
"Yeah, maybe," Frankie encouraged. He reached for Maxie's hand again, desperate for that slight physical contact, and this time she didn't pull away. He sought out Maxie's eyes and smiled sweetly when she met them. Maxie stared into Frankie's deep blue eyes, and it didn't take long for her bad mood to evaporate. She smiled back, and he laughed in response.
After seconds of mutual admiration, Maxie broke the silence. "We have a problem," she stated. "It's Georgie. She's blackmailing me."
Frankie blinked in surprise. "What?"
Maxie nodded. "She figured out that we were still seeing each other when my mom and Mac forbid me. I tried to blackmail her in return, but she has more on me. Mac won't care about stolen snacks and nail polish, but he will care if I sneak out to see you."
Frankie rubbed his chin as he thought. Damn, all of dese people are getting hard to manage. "I can talk her outta it," he decided. "Me and her have an understanding. Tell her I wanna talk to her on da phone. I can call her tonight if you keep da goons away from da phone."
"Goons?"
"Yeah, da parent types."
"Oh," Maxie nodded. 'Okay. It's worth a try." Maxie looked around the room, noting its unique Victorian character. "How do you like living here? It's seems like a museum. Reminds me of the Addam's Family."
Frankie shrugged. "I'm used ta livin' in da big places with da servants. So dat's da same. But it is creepy. I don't like old stuff. Gimme da new."
"Me, too," Maxie stated. "I like newer houses. Old stuff is boring."
Frankie squeezed Maxie's hand with delight. "Dat's what I say!" He was so relaxed in Maxie's presence, and he leaned his head against her shoulder. Maxie was charmed by Frankie's manner and reached out to stroke his hair. "You have nice hair," she complimented him. "Dark or light, it's nice."
"Thanks," Frankie murmured. "I like yours, too. It was da first thing I noticed about ya."
"We kind of noticed each other right away, didn't we?"
Frankie nodded slightly, his head still on her shoulder. "Uh-huh. We sure did. Dat Mac guy wasn't too happy. He was lookin' me over from da start."
Maxie sighed. "That's Mac. He's a police commissioner. It's in his blood to be suspicious, especially when it concerns his girls."
"Dat's okay," Frankie said. "I want ya safe, too. Be careful of dem hoods like me."
"You're not a hood," Maxie disagreed. "You're nice, you're smart, and you have a great sense of humor. Hoods are usually dumb, aren't they?"
"Ah, you're right. Most of dem are; dey're like da Cro-Magnon. Thanks, Maxie. You make me feel better. But what about da accent? Don't it bother you? Nobody likes it. Even Frank hated it. Dat's why he called me da hood. But I can't help it. I can try real hard to concentrate, and sometimes it goes away, but not for long."
"It's cute. It's different. Kind of like you. I like you, Frankie, so it doesn't matter."
Frankie sighed contentedly in response. "I like you, too. But you can tell how I feel."
Maxie smiled in response. If I let you like me any more, I'd be pregnant in a heartbeat, she reflected with amusement. Maxie ran her hand over Frankie's cheek but frowned when she noticed how puffy it was over the cheekbone. She hadn't noticed the bruises before since Frankie had been so hot on making out right away. "Did you hurt yourself?" she asked quizzically. "It looks like you hit your face on something. Ouch."
Frankie pulled away immediately and sat back firmly in his wheelchair. "No," he answered petulantly. The relaxed moment vanished like a puff of smoke on a breeze, and a hard silence fell between the two teens. Frankie lightly kicked against the wheelchair with the heel of his foot as he tried to tamp down the rising emotions of fear, shame and discomfort that rose within him. He wanted to be on his best form with Maxie and appear to be cool and with it at all times, but he was quickly losing his composure.
Maxie felt bewildered by Frankie's response, but detected that it was a closed subject buried behind a high wall. She tried to save the moment by moving on to a lighter topic. "You said you had a new baby sister. Tell me about her."
"Oh, Lulu!" Frankie brightened at the thought of his sister. "I love Lulu. She's so pretty. She looks a tiny bit like me, and some like Nikolas, but dat's okay. She has dis dark pretty hair, lots of it, and da blue eyes like me, but Mama says you can't tell yet what color dey'll be. She's so smart. I talk, and I can tell she listens to me. Her eyes follow me around."
Frankie paused and snapped his fingers as a great idea came to him. "Hey! Do you wanna see her? She's in da nursery down da hall. If you push me, we could go visit her."
"Sure!" Maxie stood up and leaned in to kiss Frankie on the lips. "I'd love to see her. Babies are neat."
~*~*~*~
"Hi," Frankie said as Maxie wheeled him to the doorway of Lulu's nursery. Emma was playing with Lulu, holding a bright, plush toy and waving it toward her as she made happy sounds. Frankie looked on the scene and smiled. "I'm Frankie." He gestured toward Maxie. "And dis is Maxie."
Emma stood up and held Lulu as she smiled warily. She had never met this newest son that had moved into the house a few days ago, but she'd certainly heard a lot of commotion coming from his suite. "Hello," she said in a neutral warm voice.
"Maxie wanted to see my baby sister," Frankie explained. "Can she see Lulu?" Frankie smiled sweetly, and Emma felt charmed by his easy manner and nice looks. He was seated in a wheelchair and seemed harmless enough. "Sure," she answered. "Come in."
Maxie wheeled Frankie into the room and exclaimed at the beautiful Laura Ashley décor with white lace and red and green ribbon patterns. "This nursery is so beautiful. I've never seen one like it. It's like a fairyland."
Emma tittered. "That's a fine description," she agreed. Emma was warming up to this girl who didn't seem to come from privilege. She sat down in the rocking chair and turned Lulu toward Maxie. "This is Lesley Alexandra Cassadine, otherwise known as Lulu."
"Lulu," Frankie repeated in a definite tone as he nodded his head and folded his hands across his lap. He wasn't much into the stuffy names, particularly the Cassadine one.
Emma studied Frankie's face and smiled when she recognized some of Laura and Lulu in his countenance. I can tell he's Mrs. Cassadine's son. And I see he is related to Nikolas.
Maxie knelt in front of Lulu and picked up her tiny hand, allowing the baby to wrap it around her offered finger. Lulu frowned in concentration as she looked directly at Maxie as if attempting to memorize her face. "You're so sweet," she cooed at the baby. "And look at all that beautiful dark hair!"
Frankie ran a hand over his blondish brown hair, conscious of the fact that Lulu and Nikolas had the dark hair, not him.
"Oh, my!" Emma exclaimed. "She needs a change."
Frankie's eyes lit up. "Let me!" he exclaimed. "I wanna do it. I know how."
Emma looked with bemusement at the teenaged boy excited to interact with a diaper. "I don't know," she teased him. "You don't look like you've done this before."
"Have to," Frankie shot back. "Mrs. DeMarco had da babies at da house all da time. I used ta help her when she was busy. I like babies."
Emma laughed at his enthusiasm and his heavy accent that sounded like the gangster movies she'd seen as a child. "All right then," she agreed. "Can you stand up? The changing table is higher than you can reach in your chair."
Frankie nodded. "Uh-huh. I can stand on one leg."
"Then you'll be our one-legged nappie changer." Emma laid Lulu on the table and reached for a new diaper. "I'll take the soiled nappie, and you wipe her off while I dispose of it."
Maxie looked on with fascination at the tough, yet sweet boy that she'd decided was da bomb.
Fortunately for Frankie, Lulu merely offered a wet diaper and spared him the agony of the other form. Frankie talked in a baby tone while he cleaned her up. "Dat's da good baby," he said. "You're so good. No squirming or shooting da pee in my face like dose boy babies."
"Here's a fresh one," Emma stated, handing the diaper to Frankie and watching with her arms crossed. She was surprised to see him handle the diaper with dexterity and assurance. "You have done this before."
Frankie nodded as he fastened the edge of the diaper with the exact tension required. "Yup. Mrs. DeMarco always had da babies." His bright eyes danced at Emma. "I'm da only one she trusted with 'em."
"Are we having a party in here?" Laura asked happily as she watched Frankie finish with Lulu.
"All done," he said to Emma, who proceeded to pick up the infant and snuggle with her. Frankie hopped around to greet his mother. "Hi mama," he said shyly as he glanced at Maxie. "Dis is Maxie. She's my friend."
Laura smiled broadly as she looked back and forth from Frankie to Maxie. They're both glowing. I think this is his girlfriend. "It's nice to meet you, Maxie. Do you know Frankie from school?"
Maxie nodded shyly. "We met in the cafeteria at lunch."
"Maxie knows Sly and Emily, too," Frankie added. "I wanted her to see my new baby sister. She got da wet diaper, so I changed her."
Emma spoke up. "He did a wonderful job, too. Thank you, Frankie."
"I can see that," Laura noted as she took the baby from Emma. "Did she give you any trouble, Frankie?"
Frankie shook his head. "Nah. She's a good baby." His leg was growing tired from supporting all of his weight, and he stumbled to the side a little as he reached for the wheelchair. Maxie quickly assisted him back into the chair.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly.
Frankie rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. I'm a little tired is all."
Maxie laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I should go," she whispered into his ear.
"Only if you come back," Frankie whispered as he winked at her.
"I should go now, Mrs. Cassadine," Maxie said as she edged toward the door. "It was real nice meeting you, and Lulu, too."
"Please come back anytime," Laura said brightly. "Do you need a ride back home?"
Maxie shook her head. "No, I don't live too far - only about a quarter of a mile. I could use the exercise." She turned her head as she left the room and gave Frankie a tiny wave, which he returned.
"I can help you back to your room," Laura offered. She decided that grilling Frankie about the girl would serve no purpose other than to satisfy her curiosity, so she let the topic go. "It was nice to meet your friend," she mentioned. "I'm glad you've made friends with people at school."
Frankie laid his head on his hand and barely nodded in assent. After entering his room, Laura stopped pushing the wheelchair and knelt in front of her son. "Are you feeling okay? Do you need the doctor?"
"I'm okay," Frankie said softly. "Too much going on. I'm beat."
Laura placed her hand on his arm. "Why don't you sit with me in the rocking chair before you take your nap?" she suggested. "We don't have to talk, but we can spend some time together. I miss you."
Frankie rolled his eyes. "It's only been a coupla hours, Mama."
"Long enough."
"Okay."
Laura helped Frankie up from the wheelchair and walked him over to the large, comfortable rocking chair. It was snug, but they both fit. Laura sighed. "I've had a busy day, too. I've been on my feet the entire time. This feels good."
"Ya," Frankie agreed as he nestled closer to Laura and yawned.
Laura placed her arm around the boy, and he rested his head half on her shoulder and half on her chest as his eyes closed. Laura patted his arm and continued to rock the chair in a constant gentle rhythm as she treasured the close time with her son. I lost fourteen years of his life, she reflected. I wonder how many hugs we missed during that time. I can't make up for that time apart, but we can start fresh. I want him to feel loved and safe. Laura looked down at his face, which was relaxed and smooth with no signs of worry or anxiety. She marveled at how long his eyelashes were, brushing against his cheeks as they did. Such a pretty boy. Lulu will have her work cut out for her to compete. But all of my children are wonderful. I love them all.
Twenty minutes passed by, and it was apparent that Frankie was sound asleep, his breathing heavy and even. Laura noted that he didn't seem to struggle as much to breathe when he was asleep and figured that the doctor was correct when he said that stress and tension made the boy feel like he was suffocating. Maybe his difficulties were partly psychological after all. She sighed as she thought about the constant fighting between her sons. Would house rules help the situation or would the boys merely ignore the rules in favor of sniping at one another. What could they do together as a family that would bring them closer together? A trip to Cassadine Island this summer? But no, that was Nikolas' territory, the place where he'd grown up as a little boy. Maybe they should be adventurous and go someplace different like Vancouver, B.C. or San Francisco - someplace far from Port Charles yet beautiful with a lot of sights to see. It would be fun to include Luke and Alexis as well as Sly.
Laura was lost in thought when Dr. Hill returned to the room. "Oh," she said quietly when he stood by the chair. Her arm was starting to fall asleep since she hadn't moved it once. "Help me get him to bed?" she whispered as she tilted her head toward Frankie. "He's been sleeping so soundly, I don't want to wake him up."
Laura gently lifted Frankie's head and separated from him as Dr. Hill took him by the shoulders and knees, lifting him from the chair and carrying him to the bed. Frankie was light, and it only took a second to move him. He made a few noises when he touched the bed, but pulled his pillow toward him and settled in. Dr. Hill pulled a blanket over Frankie and joined Laura in the hallway.
"He's sleeping very soundly for only an afternoon nap," Dr. Hill noted. Neither the doctor nor Laura was aware of Frankie's fistfights and his consumption of two beers and a fourth liter of vodka.
"He's not used to being up all day," Laura replied. "He has a lot of homework that his brother brought him. It should help keep him preoccupied."
"Frankie seems to be very comfortable with you. That's good."
"He's not used to having women around him. I think that's good since he also doesn't have a lot of negativity associated with them. Still, I think he longed for a mother his whole life. His surrogate mother, the woman that he lived with occasionally, indicated that he was clingy. But he does have three men that care about him. He has a father, a stepfather and an uncle of a sort. I keep hoping that he'll make a firm connection with them."
"It's hard since he was abused by his only father figure. He'll be wary and may do a lot of testing to see if they'll stick around or hit him."
Laura searched Dr. Hill's face with interest. "You seem to know what you're talking about," she observed. "Let me guess. My husband hired you especially for your expertise with teenaged boys."
Dr. Hill laughed and rubbed his nose. "Something like that. I have a Ph.D. in psychology as well as a residency in adolescent medicine. It's where my interests lie."
Laura pursed her lips and shook her head. "That's Stefan. He's particularly tenacious when he takes on a project - human or otherwise. He doesn't always share what he's doing, but since he's usually right, I look the other way. I'm used to it."
~*~*~*~
Alexis sneaked up behind Luke and snapped the exposed elastic of his underwear. Luke was bent over, laying out lengths of plastic carpet covering over the flooring to help with Frankie's wheelchair movements when his son joined them in the new house.
"Hey, woman," Luke protested.
"One more inch and you'll be displaying your crack," Alexis teased. "Are you in training to be a plumber, sweetheart?"
"This is men's work," Luke stated as his eyes danced with amusement. "We overheat and require maximum ventilation."
Alexis knelt on the floor beside Luke and inspected his work. Her big brown eyes drifted to Luke's face, and she grinned wickedly. "Then I take it you'll be completing this in the nude? That would be an eyeful."
Luke sat down and dusted his hands off. "Where do you come up with these ideas? You're a pervert, m'dear."
"I learned from the master," she replied as she reached out to tickle Luke's waist.
"Are you trying to start something?" Luke prompted. "Because I'm perfectly willing to finish it."
Alexis sighed. "We'll have to take a rain check on that. We need to discuss business. Family business."
Luke looked concerned. "What's up, counselor?"
"I spoke with Stefan about the custody hearing. He's already taken action."
"And what to you mean by action?" Luke's heart was beginning to beat faster as he was uncertain about Stefan's motives.
Alexis lowered her voice even though she and Luke were the only ones in the house. "Stefan paid off the judge. He has triplets - brilliant girls who want to attend Ivy League universities if you get my point. Stefan doesn't like to take chances. He wants the cards in his favor."
"He didn't discuss this with you before he acted?" Luke asked incredulously.
"I'm an officer of the court. He didn't want to compromise my position."
"So he tells you after the fact and compromises you anyway," Luke stated bitterly.
Alexis cleared her throat and looked uneasy. "In this case, I think he was right. Apparently, the FBI was sniffing around this judge, trying to force him to make Frankie a ward of the court. They were trying to muscle in on the boy and were obviously up to no good."
"They're a federal agency. Why would they do something like that? The FBI doesn't operate this way."
"If they're truly FBI," Alexis noted. "They could be a rogue branch or something else."
Luke shook his head as a look of disgust flooded his features. "You Cassadines seem very comfortable with intrigue in high places."
"It can be an advantage," Alexis pointed out. "We're trying to save Frankie, remember?"
Luke nodded as he absentmindedly pulled at tufts of tan carpeting. "What about the custody, then? We'll still share joint custody, won't we? And what about those social workers we've been so worried about?"
"No social workers," Alexis stated definitely. "That was partly why Stefan did this. He felt that Frankie might compromise himself unknowingly. And yes, we'll have joint custody, although we still need to finalize a schedule. What do you think about two weeks at Wyndemere and two weeks here each month? I hate to see kids shifted about during the week or weekends. This gives him some more stability."
"Agreed," Luke replied. "But I want Sly to be able to see his brother any time he wants to. So he needs to be welcome at Wyndemere."
"As Nikolas is welcome here," Alexis prompted.
"Sure," Luke answered. "As long as there's not World War Three and all of our furniture is left intact." He laughed and hit his head with his palm. "What are we going to with those two? At least Frankie and Sly get along."
~*~*~*~
Sly was hurting as he trudged home to Bobbie's brownstone. He was staying with Bobbie until the new house was ready to move into. However, he didn't feel up to all of the questions about his appearance and how it got that way. All he wanted was sympathy and a cookie. He paused at the intersection and then headed in a different direction from home.
Fifteen minutes later, Sly pushed open the door to Kelly's. He heard Ruby laughing behind the counter and dragged his large, gangly feet over there as his shoulders slumped. Sly dumped the camcorder onto the countertop and sighed. "Aunt Ruby," he mumbled dejectedly. Ruby stopped talking to the person in the back room, and exclaimed, "Sly! What happened to you, honey? You look awful." She walked briskly from behind the counter and drew Sly into a hug.
"Thanks," Sly mumbled in reply. "I can't open my eye. It's killing me - it's throbbing and real hot."
"Poor baby," Ruby sympathized. "Come to the kitchen. We'll prepare an ice pack for that. I want you to lie down for at least half an hour and hold it over your eye."
"Okay."
When Ruby led Sly to the kitchen, Mrs. DeMarco said, "Oh no. Somebody beat on you, baby? I'm so sorry." She stopped sifting the flour that would eventually become a homemade pie and dusted her hands off before giving Sly a hug of her own. "Who did dis to you?" she asked.
"Frankie," Sly said with an edge to his voice.
Ruby and Mrs. DeMarco met eyes over Sly's head.
"Why did he hit you?" Ruby probed.
"He was going for Nikolas, but he missed and hit me instead. He hates Nikolas and the feeling is mutual. I don't care though. I'm mad. He has a bad temper, and I'm tired of his moods. He needs to grow up."
Ruby smiled in spite of herself. "Would Frankie fight like that?" she questioned Mrs. DeMarco. "I haven't seen that side of him."
Mrs. DeMarco colored slightly and nodded. "He mighta learned at my house, I'm afraid. Too many boys in one room. Dey kind of exploded sometimes like a can of soda pop dat you shake too hard before opening, ya know. I'm sorry about dat. I tried to stop da fighting, but dey'd start it up again. Only Joseph could make 'em stop when dey got wound up. I'd send 'em outta da house to fight in da yard." Mrs. DeMarco laughed at the memories. "But dey survived, all of dem."
Sly sighed and began to snivel. "I can't open my eye. What if it's permanently damaged?" Ruby rubbed his back soothingly. "I want you to go upstairs and lie down on my bed. I'll be up in a minute with a Tylenol and an ice pack."
A ping of fear ran through Sly as he suddenly remembered what he'd left on Kelly's countertop. "I need to give the camcorder back to Uncle Luke," he said breathlessly.
"I'll call Luke and have him pick it up," Ruby replied.
Sly walked quickly from the kitchen. "I need the videotape for school," he called over his shoulder as he forgot his hurt eye for a moment and raced to the camcorder to eject the tape. He breathed a sigh of relief when it was in his hands.
"That must be very important," Ruby stated as she joined him.
Sly nodded. "It a project - for gym."
~*~*~*~
Frankie nervously ran his hands over his hair for the tenth time in ten minutes. His meeting with Stefan was imminent, and he desperately wanted to make a good impression on the man who was even smarter than Frank. There was much at stake - whole businesses and millions of dollars. He looked down at his clothes. He'd changed into the dressy outfit that his mother had bought him complete with silky shirt, black trousers and highly polished black loafers. Secretly, he'd wished for one of his power suits for his first business meeting since the death of Frank and his own hospitalization. He shot a glance over his shoulder at the entrance to the bathroom and burned with the knowledge that the vodka was in there waiting. He'd kill for a drink to calm his nerves, but he didn't dare lose his edge for this important conversation.
Frank's good leg kept jiggling so much that he didn't even notice it anymore. He wasn't sure about this day. In some ways, it had been great. He'd loved the time that he'd spent with Maxie, his mother, and the baby, but the knock down drag out fight with Nikolas and Sly haunted his mind. Were things going too far? Where would they stop? Frankie rubbed his lips together as his eyes misted. Sly hated him now. He said so. Had he lost his best and only friend? What should he do? Would Sly hang up on him if he called to see how he was?
Frankie cleared his throat and blinked back his tears when Stefan entered his room.
"Are you ready for our discussion, young man?"
"I think so," Frankie answered carefully.
"Why don't we take the elevator down to my office so we can have some privacy?" Stefan looked down at Frankie and noticed that he seemed nervous and on edge. "Don't look so solemn," he teased Frankie as he patted him on the shoulder and wheeled him from the room.
~*~*~*~
Frankie frowned lightly as he craned his neck to take in all of the sights in the inner sanctum otherwise known as Stefan's study. He jumped when he caught the silly gaze of the thoroughbred horse so boldly brought to life in the portrait that hung on the wall. Stefan noticed where Frankie's attention was directed and laughed as he sat down in his burgundy leather executive chair. "I allowed your mother to decorate this home office. My office at work is mine alone. Be careful to strongly voice your preferences when your mother takes on the project of decorating your suite."
"I will," Frankie said quietly. Frank had classical tastes, and this room was furnished classically, but seemed to have a bizarre twist to it that he couldn't place a finger on. He was grateful for the warning about his mother's decorating. He shivered when he recalled Nikolas' French pansy delight of a room.
"The Mafia tried to kill you." Stefan began the conversation by jumping to the heart of the matter. Small talk was for people with time and the interest in it. This was business.
"Yes," Frankie nodded. "They have tried numerous times starting when I was ten."
"Your kidnapping?" Stefan questioned.
"Yes. There was an attempted coup, and it was orchestrated by several Mafia plants in Frank's organization. The recent events correlate with that previous attempt. They are responsible for my gunshot wound." Frankie patted his chest to emphasize his words.
Stefan stroked his gold-leafed letter opener, a favorite desk object to play with while he was thinking. What happened to the boy's accent? He seems to be forcing his speech. He must be trying the eloquence tactic with me. He's the most guarded boy I believe I have ever met. "They obviously want your holdings. It is to your advantage to dispose of them as quickly as possible," Stefan advised. "You've had offers?"
Frankie nodded as a disgusted look covered his face. "I've forced Sonny Corinthos, the local mob boss, to make me an offer, but it's unacceptable."
Stefan's right eyebrow rose. "And the offer is?"
Frankie averted his gaze, suddenly feeling reticent about revealing details of his business transactions. Stefan pushed a piece of paper toward the boy and offered a gold plated pen. Frankie accepted the pen as he stared intensely at Stefan. He'd never shared information of this type with anyone other than Frank or Johnny. He quickly wrote down a six figure amount and pushed the paper back to Stefan.
Stefan studied the paper and asked, "What percentage of your holdings' worth does this represent?"
Frankie coughed and looked embarrassed. He avoided Stefan's steady gaze but flinched when he turned toward the horse portrait. "Ten percent," he stated emotionlessly. He studied his fingernails. "I'd just as soon kill him for insulting me. Johnny says no."
Stefan regarded this boy in front of him - delicate in frame and angelic in expression, but who didn't hesitate to bring up death as a punishment for disappointing him. "Accept the offer," he stated with a firm finality.
Frankie looked up in surprise. "What?" he asked breathlessly. His eyes darkened and narrowed as he waved a finger at Stefan. "You're trying to get rid of me. You don't care. What kind of advice is dat? Dat's horseshit!" Frankie lost all control over both his temper and his accent. He jumped up from the wheelchair and leaned on Stefan's desk with his whitened knuckles. "Why are you playing me?" he demanded. "Do you plan to snap up my businesses behind my back?"
Stefan never lost his composure as he studied the angry young man. "Please sit down," he stated calmly. He held Frankie's gaze and didn't alter his stare for one second. Frankie sputtered several swear words and sat back down with a scowl. "What?!" he yelled at Stefan. "What are you lookin' at?"
"I'm looking at a young man who needs to learn how to control his temper so he can become the young business tycoon that he desires. The person that I'm looking at is headed nowhere fast. If you continue in this manner you are destined for the grave before age thirty."
"Alexander the Great," Frankie smirked as he folded his arms in protest of Stefan's opinion.
"Frankie the Dead," Stefan retorted. "Listen well. Here is your situation. If you do not dispose of those businesses, you will be arrested by either the federal or local authorities. However, before they can arrest you, you may be murdered by the Mafia. Perhaps you have not considered that you have a new family that is in danger. You have two brothers and a sister who are vulnerable to this violence. Empires can be rebuilt. Human lives cannot be restored once they are gone. The reading of your father's will is within days. I sense that you will be a very rich man whether or not you keep the illegal businesses. Must you have it all to be satisfied? Are you businessman enough that you can take a share and multiple it many times over?"
"Is dat a challenge?" Frankie asked snottily.
"Yes," Stefan replied. "It is a challenge to every instinct that you have - business or personal. It is a challenge to what kind of person you choose to be in this life. Will you make the world a better place because of your existence or will you rain violence and terror on innocent people?"
"Too philosophical," Frankie protested. He started rubbing his bad leg distractedly and elevated it on the footrest. He frowned as he tried to concentrate on what Stefan was saying.
"And you are operating on pure emotion," Stefan pointed out. "The key to your success is integrating your mind and emotions, not letting your temper rule you."
"But what am I gonna DO?" Frankie shouted in exasperation. "I can't take no ten percent. Da men, da other business people - dey won't respect me. I gotta have control or I got nothin.'"
"Was that Frank's position?" Stefan questioned.
"YES!" Frankie answered. He started looking around the room distractedly and adjusting his body on the wheelchair.
"Your father had his say in his own business. Now it is time for you to decide who you will be."
"I'm Frankie," he said plaintively. "Frankie Smith who's now a Spencer and who don't know what to do anymore. I wanna be da legal businessman, da CEO, but no one will listen to me 'cause I'm fifteen years old. Da mob, dey listen to me or dey die. It's dat simple."
"Then you must learn the true meaning of power," Stefan advised.
"Are you gonna teach me den?" Frankie asked hesitantly.
"Yes," Stefan answered definitively.
~*~*~*~
Nikolas moved through his room with an analytical precision inherited from his father by genes and example. He researched the internet and placed several overseas phone calls. Accounts were closed and money transferred several times electronically. There was no trail when he was finished with his plans.