Sonny stood, walked over to Dara picked her up and carried her to the living room. He carefully sat down with Dara on his lap and held her as she sobbed. In English, Spanish, and Spanglish, he whispered words of reassurance and encouragement to her.

She couldn't stop crying. It was as if her tears would never end. She wept for all she had lost, her husband, her marriage, her children's father, her friend, her confidante, and also for the loss of innocence she had naively believed the DA's office had purged her of. Dara shed tears for the baby within her that would never have a chance to meet his or her father, never feel the warmth and strength of his embrace, hear him say, "I love you," watch him cheer him or her on at a sporting event. Her baby wasn't even born yet and had already suffered a significant loss. These were the first real tears of grief she had shed for Marcus since Sonny told her the news.

She wished she could take this baby and her older baby and hibernate until the pain of losing Marcus wasn't a lion's constant roar, but rather a cat's meow. But she knew that wasn't possible. It was time to focus her attention on Craig, Gia, and Florence. And time to deal with the new difficulty in her life, Sonny Corinthos, whose arms were comforting and voice reassuring her and they were both doing an excellent job.

Dara didn't want this Sonny in her life; he reminded her too much of the Sonny she knew and had once loved. She needed for him to be the Sonny she had sat opposite of so many times in the police station and courtroom. She had enough complications in her life.

Sensing that she was calm once again, Sonny handed her a handkerchief and gave her a few moments to collect herself.

"How did Craig find out?"

"Michael showed him a picture of Mom."

"Oh." When Craig was born she had prayed he didn't look like Sonny for fear she would cave and call him to tell him about the baby. God had been listening and granted her request. Instead of having a replica of Sonny, she had one of Adella Corinthos. A woman who had been a second mother to her. A woman whom she watched slowly die right before her eyes as Deke killed Adella both physically, spiritually, and emotionally. From the moment she saw Craig, she had loved him. He was her little piece of Adella with her forever.

"We can't stay here," she said, bringing her thoughts back around to the problem of the moment.

"Craig loves it here. You said you liked it the last time you were here."

"Liking and moving in are two different things," Dara clarified as she tried to scoot off of Sonny's lap. His grip tightened around her, keeping her in her place.

"Craig helped decorate."

"That's nice, but we're going back home." Sonny grinned, putting her on high alert.

"You can't.

"Yes, I can," she countered, forcibly removing herself from his lap to look him directly in the face.

"Okay," he shrugged, "you can kick the Ventress' family out of their newly rented house."

"The Ventress family?"

"Yes, your neighbors from across the street who are expecting quadruplets in two months and have a ten month old."

Dara's face dropped.

"They told me they've been looking. They were sorry to see you and Craig leave, but they understood and were so grateful they didn't have to leave the neighborhood."

"You rented out my house?" she asked irate, standing up and pacing the floors. How could she have forgotten how high-handed he could be?


"That wasn't your place- -"

"It was my place from the moment you smiled at me all those years ago at Coney Island. The moment I possessed you body and soul in your bed, in your bedroom. The moment I told you Taggert had been murdered. The moment my son told me he stayed awake at night listening to see if his mother had another nightmare and racking his brain on how he could help her."

She shook her head. She couldn’t allow him to steamroll over her. She slowly tried to release her rising anger; she needed to try a different approach. "Sonny, I can take care of myself and Craig. I appreciate everything you've done for us."

Sonny laughed which instantly annoyed and disturbed her. What did he have planned?

"You're welcome," Sonny replied, standing up. "There's a suit on your bed, try it on and make sure it fits. I hope you like it. The boys overruled me. Be ready by 9:30. If it doesn't fit, call me and I'll have someone sent over."

"What? What is going on?" she questioned thoroughly confused.

"We're getting married tomorrow."

"We're what?! No," she shouted, "no, we're not. Enough already. Get out of my life and stay out. Forget you know me like you've been doing this last decade- -"

Sonny grabbed her arms and kissed her, turning up the heat second by second and despite herself, she found herself responding. "You're mine," he murmured against her lips. Sliding his mouth across her lips and over to her ear, he whispered, "Elvis is still alive and while he might be dumb, I never underestimate my enemies. And your life, Craig's and this little girl's lives are more important than what this town thinks about either of us. Don't you agree?"

Damn him, what could she say to that? How could she not have thought about Ike "Elvis" Coward's possible thirst for revenge? She reluctantly nodded.

"Craig is your best man. Michael and Morgan are mine. And Kristina is the flower girl." Kissing her right below her ear, in the exact spot that sent shivers down her spine and made Dara putty in his hands. He slipped away from her. "Dara Taggert died the moment Marcus Taggert did." With those final words, he left, leaving her treacherous body wanting and craving him.