"Ahhh, Grace," Stefano is waiting for her in the foyer and his face lights up as he watches the maid take Grace's wrap. She looks absolutely stunning, every inch the Queen he has made her.
"Stefano." A smile touches her lips and her eyes flash as brightly as the diamonds at her ears. She looks around the entrance to the house with interest.
"I know my dear, it is not the chateau, but then, this is not France is it?" He cocks his head to one side.
"No, it certainly isn't," she murmurs softly.
"May I say," he leans back against the doorway to the living room with a casualness that belies his racing heart. "You look quite beautiful."
"That was a requirement wasn't it?" she asks with a half-smile.
She knows the effect she is having on him, she can see it in the flushed skin and the wide, ebony pupils. She knows and she revels in it. She could have him if she wanted, all it would take would be one word... But where would the challenge be in that? Where would the enjoyment, the thrill of the hunt be for either of them?
Stefano takes a deep breath, his eyes drawn to the large expanse of golden cleavage exposed by the low neckline of the gown she is wearing. He knows how soft that skin is, knows how gloriously warm and fragrant she is...
He swallows, tearing his eyes from her before he turns. He sweeps his arm forward in a gesture of gallantry. "After you, my dear."
Grace says nothing, merely smiles benignly as she brushes past him on her way to the sitting room. She is so close for a moment that he can swear he hears her heart beating, but then he realizes it is only his own, pounding in his ears. He must stop this, must get a grip on himself. This is *Grace* after all. If she senses weakness in him, he will lose her forever.
"A drink, Grace?" he asks softly.
"Mmmm," she wanders slowly around the room, fingering ornaments, looking at pictures. The only light comes from a muted lamp on a side table and from several candles above the fireplace.
She lifts a heavy silver frame that holds a photo of Marlena and she elevates one well-defined eyebrow. "Stefano?"
Stefano moves to her side, placing a martini in her elegant hands. "I had to have some reminders Grace."
"But this is Marlena, Stefano." She eyes him with suspicion.
"All the photos of you were destroyed when Maison Blanche burned." Stefano lies easily. He does not think Grace would take kindly to his... passion for Marlena. She will know, for now, only that which he wants her to know.
"Maison Blanche?" She blinks but it is the only betrayal of her surprise.
"It is a long story, Grace," Stefano waves his hand, indicating his desire not to dwell on the past. "It's not important now. What is important, is that you are back and that we have plans to make."
~
"Dad?"
John's heart sinks as he hears his daughter's voice on the other end of the cellular phone. "Yeah sweetheart, what is it?"
"Dad, what's going on? Where are you?" Belle has come home to an empty apartment and she is understandably upset.
"Uh," John quickly searches his mind for a believable excuse. Obviously Marlena has not told their daughter what's happened. That in itself is unlike her, but maybe she doesn't feel like she is able to right now. He can hardly blame her for that. "I'm working on a project right now sweetheart. I've just stepped out of the office for dinner but it looks like it's going to be another all-nighter."
"Well, where's Mom?" Belle looks at the shopping bags that are scattered across the floor of the living room. This is so bizarre, it's so totally unlike her mom to make a mess like this and then leave without cleaning it up.
"You mother isn't there?" John's voice is sharp.
"Would I be asking you where she is if she was here?" Belle asks, her frustration getting the better of her. Her father isn't telling her the truth, she knows that. She doesn't get what is going on here. And it's scaring her.
"Isabella -"
"I'm sorry Dad," she doesn't need the rebuke that she knows is coming. Her sharp tongue has gotten her into more trouble with her parents than she would like to lay claim to. "I didn't mean it like that. It's just that, well... Mom usually leaves a note or something. It's just not like her to not let us know where she's going."
"You're right, it's not." John chews on his lip nervously. After their phone conversation, if it can be called such, he is unsure what Marlena might have done. She's a mystery to him right now, but that is his fault too. He has pushed her to breaking point and he has to deal with the consequences. "Don't worry about your mother, Belle. I'm sure she just got caught up with a patient or something. Maybe there was an emergency she had to deal with and she didn't have time to leave you a note."
"Yeah, I guess that could have happened." Belle shrugs. It sure would explain the mess.
"Listen honey, when your Mom gets home, can you just call me and let me know?" John tries to sound casual.
"Why don't I just get *her* to call you?" Belle asks reasonably. "I might be in bed by the time she gets in, I can leave a note."
"Uh, well if you're still up baby, you call me. Your mother will probably be tired, she doesn't need to be bothered okay?" He hopes the blatant lie isn't obvious to his daughter. He hopes he can sort this mess out with Marlena before they need to upset any of their children with it.
Belle pauses for a moment. She's still sure dad isn't being straight with her but there's not much she can do about it right now. "Sure thing Dad. Don't work too hard."
"Thanks sweetheart. I love you."
He flips up the flap of his cell phone and stares down at the water. He'd come here to the pier looking for some answers. Hoping that somehow, being in 'their' place would lead him to the right words, the right way to show Marlena how sorry he is.
But now he finds where he looks for answers, there are only more questions.
~
"So what are these plans of yours?" Grace leafs through the dossier in her lap. Stefano works quickly, he has already compiled an extensive history on everyone pertinent to Marlena's life, as well as the woman herself. It looks like it will make for interesting reading and Grace suspects that there is more to Stefano's involvement in Marlena's... 'misfortune' than he has admitted. But that is beside the point right now.
Stefano has just given her the readers digest version, but with her sharp mind, it won't take Grace long to devour this information. However, right now she is more interested in the future than in the past.
"Why don't we sit down to eat and I will tell you all about it," Stefano smirks without compunction. He knows he has her interest piqued and he wishes to whet her appetite for revenge.
He pulls out a chair for her at the table and waits for her to seat herself before he moves to the ice bucket. Grace's lips curl as he takes the bottle out of the bucket. Of course he remembers. Stefano always remembers everything.
He wraps a napkin around the neck of the bottle before beginning the ritual of opening the expensive champagne, the same champagne they had shared the very first time they dined together.
The cork exits with a bang and an expansive hiss and Grace watches appreciatively as he pours the golden liquid into a crystal flute. Stefano fills his own before placing the bottle back in the silver bucket and then sits in the chair opposite her as he raises his glass.
"A toast to my beautiful Grace," his smile is voracious and seems to fill the room. "I cannot tell you how much I missed your wit and your charm. Welcome home my darling."
Grace raises her glass in reply. "And to you Stefano. May life here in Salem be as interesting as you promise."
Stefano laughs, the baritone vibrations unsettling the air between the two of them. "Grace, always such little patience. *That* is a trait you certainly share with the fair Marlena."
"*Don't* compare me with her." Grace's voice embraces a chilling warning and Stefano can see the cold fury in those familiar hazel eyes.
"I would not *dream* of it, Grace." He holds his hand in front of him, the large paw intended to soothe her fit of pique.
She glares at him though, her expression frigid. She is Grace, *not* Marlena. Grace is the name she chose, the person she chose to be. She will *never* forget that and she expects him not to either. When she came to him, torn from the clutches of a brutal sea, she had known nothing except that she was grateful to be alive. Grateful to him for giving her a place to heal and learn.
He had told her nothing at first, simply allowed her to explore her new world. She had spent weeks regaining her strength and when she had been ready, he had allowed her to make her own decision. She could find her past or she could stay with Stefano. He would look after her as long as she wanted or she could go. It was her decision.
She had stayed.
It wasn't until later that the memories began to filter into her consciousness. By then she didn't want to know about the family that had abandoned her. She had made her own place in the world, she had a new name and a new life. She did not want to know the past. It held no meaning for her.
It still doesn't.
Grace is nothing like Marlena. She is cunning and resourceful, and she knows how to get what she wants. By whatever means necessary. She knows her beauty gives her power and she wields her sensuality like a weapon. She is brilliant and she knows it. If she is sure of anything, it is that she will not be stifled into obscurity as Marlena Evans again. Ever.
"Grace." Her name on Stefano's tongue has the sibilant sound of a snake. He wishes to pacify her and she knows she must let him. "Darling, do not worry. Marlena is the past. You and I, my Queen, will reign gloriously... Once we have put the Brady's in their place."
"So tell me Stefano," she leans back, relaxing only slightly as she fingers the diamonds that encircle her wrist. "What did these Brady's do to warrant such attention?"
"Pah," he waves his hand irritably. "They have been a thorn in my side for too many years now."
"Ah yes," Grace smiles sweetly but is lacking sincerity or warmth. "Roman Brady..."
"Roman Brady is a *fool*!" Spittle erupts from Stefano's lips along with the vitriolic words and the cutlery dances as he smashes his meaty fist on the table.
"Oh Stefano," she is faintly amused. "I think I'm starting to see..."
"You see *nothing*, Grace," Stefano's face is dark with anger. "The Brady's have taken too much from me. I have lost my children because of them. I have lost *too* *damn* *much*..."
He glares up at her with ebony eyes that echo the depths of hell. "They *will* pay for it. And you, Grace, will be the angel of my vengeance..."