“Sabrina…cher?” Celeste’s voice was fraught with worry. “What is wrong?” she whispered, cupping her face.

“I…see you…this…,” she shook her head, motioning to the photos, “and I can’t deny it if I wanted to.”

“Deny what, cher?”

“You still love him, Mama!” she blurted out. Her breaths were ragged as they were expelled in between strangled sobs. “And…and I know Papa still loves you…no matter… No matter how much you’ve hurt each other! But the two of you…” She shook her head, her despair almost a living thing. “Why can’t you work it out??”

In that moment, Celeste saw past the accomplished, confident 30-something woman before her; what reflected back to her was a child—hers and Viktor’s—longing for the comfort of old, the world she once inhabited where, surrounded by the love of her Mama and Papa, in the bosom of her family, everything was alright. Because their love, for each other and her, made it so.

“What have I always told you and your sister about my relationship with your Papa, cher?”

“That the relationship between you and Papa was just that—between you and Papa.”

“That’s still true. Do you know what else is also true?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “That impassioned declaration you just made? That wasn’t about your Papa and me, cher. I have no need for you to declare what I already know; what your Papa and I both know. Yes, we love each other. We never stopped. We. Never. Will. What you’re feeling now?” Celeste posed softly. Gently she raised Sabrina’s watery gaze to meet hers. “This is about you. This is about you and the man you were involved with, cher. The agent, Bauer? You loved him?”

Sabrina, her eyes fluttering closed, could only nod her head.

“Look at me, cher,” Celeste commanded. She waited until Sabrina complied before she spoke again. “And you still do, no?”

“Yes.”

“Then the answer is simple, don’t you see, cher?” Celeste beamed. “Go and be with him, cher! Go to him.”

“It’s not that simple. You don’t understand. What he wants…from me…I can’t give.”

“Yes, you can,” she countered. “You’re just afraid to.” Her own gaze now glistening with unshed tears, Celeste smoothed an errant lock of hair behind her daughter’s ear. “I know what you are feeling, cher. I have lived it. I am living it. And as great as the pain has been at times, I honestly cannot imagine my life with anyone else but your Papa. So I tell you again, if you love this man as much as I believe you to, go to him.”

“It is never too late, Little One.”

From the doorway, Viktor Cassadine’s commanding gaze washed over his eldest daughter.

Instantly, Sabrina straightened her posture; her hands, as if by reflex, darting to her eyes to dry the tears.

Viktor did not miss the look of unbridled censure his life’s love, Celeste, leveled at him as she beheld their child’s reaction to his presence. And for the second time that day, the tawny beauty found herself stunned as she watched her love—her ma cher—extend his hand to their child then draw her near and engulf her in his embrace. A few moments later, he offered his hand to Celeste, beckoning her to join them. As he held within his embrace two of the three most important women in his life, Viktor’s gaze was unwavering as it came to rest upon the portrait of the third; his youngest child, Viktoria “Tori” Perrault.

“Never.”

Later…

“Is my Little One alright?”

Viktor’s smooth, cultured voice sounded almost melodic against the backdrop of the faint breeze accompanying the softly falling rain as it rustled the leaves of the mammoth oak trees outside Celeste’s boudoir.

It was a simple question, yet concern fairly vibrated from every area of the difficult Patriarch’s body it seemed. Without even realizing it, his embrace of Celeste’s sated form—already rather tight—became even more constricting upon posing the query.

Still weary from their second round of passionate lovemaking and fully aware her love was in no way done making her “pay” for her earlier defiance (when she abruptly ended their call), with great effort Celeste turned in Viktor’s embrace. Immediately her trim yet shapely form began to shiver; tiny pebbles began to pepper her back which for the better part of the past quarter hour or so had indulged in the warmth generated by the press of Viktor’s body against the café au lait expanse.

“She is having a difficult time right now,” Celeste admitted. “Romantically,” she clarified. Expelling a satisfied sigh, she nestled her body closer to his.

“I was not aware she was involved with anyone.”

“She wasn’t ‘involved,’ cher. She was in love. Still is. They broke up. The trouble is she finally accepted the fact that she still loves him after he committed himself to another.”

“If it is the government agent she was seeing then it is no doubt for the best,” Viktor scoffed. “I will talk to her. She will see that what she is experiencing is fleeting.”

Slowly, Celeste extracted herself from Viktor’s embrace and sat up. At that moment she was very much like a tawny jungle cat in predator mode. The only light in the room was courtesy of the faint slivers of moonlight filtering in through the draperies. Yet, she had no doubt Viktor could bear witness to her heated gaze.

“Viktor? No.” Neither Celeste’s tone nor her flint-like gaze brooked room for argument. “Stay out of it.”

“As you wish,” he sighed.

As he reached out to draw her body down to his, Celeste did not miss the small seductive smile playing about her lover’s mouth. She knew how he so loved when she sought to engage him in battle. But she was in no way fooled by her lover’s silence, nor the smooth caresses he trailed along her body as he lowered her mouth to his. Seconds later, her body was beneath his as Viktor deftly flipped Celeste onto her back. With the greatest of ease he was nudging her thighs apart and settling his body atop hers.

“Oh, no…don’t you dare try and placate me, Viktor!” Her slender fingers twined within his hair, she none-too-gently palmed a fistful of silver-peppered locks. “Have you learned nothing from our example, cher? Have you?” Her voice softened as she held his gaze. “We both know all too well what happens when you allow family to influence a relationship.”

Celeste did not regret her words, but she knew the moment they fell from her lips a stark shift in mood would ensue. The tension in her lover’s body was matched by the terse delivery of his next words.

“You will never forgive me for that, will you?”

“Oh, cher.” The naked pain in Viktor’s voice was nearly Celeste’s undoing. “Can it be, that after all this time you still do not know me as well as you believe yourself to?”

Her gaze softened as with her free hand she cupped his right cheek while she gingerly allowed the other to release his locks then begin an agonizingly slow descent along the planes of his left cheek. Fingers trembling she lowered his face to hers, her breath nearly stilled in the wake of his now molten gaze.

“I forgave you long ago, ma cher,” she whispered. A feather-light brush of her lips against his followed. Whether or not they softened her next words was difficult to tell. Truth tended to be impervious to such attempts. “I just have not forgotten.”



Author's Note: The character of Tori is the creation of jrsgirl.

Casting: Viktoria "Tori" Perrault—Halle Berry (The Call; Die Another Day; Monster's Ball)