1864 Damon Salvatore Novels & Stories

Damien ordered her. Savannah gulped in fear. "Am I clear?" Damien asked her. Savannah nodded fastly without wasting any second. She didn't want him to get more angry. "Dominic is playing with you." "He is a killer." "He won't even hesitate a bit to kill a girl if she ever denies him." "He forced himself on girls." Damien was saying these sentences one by one breaking Savannah's heart into pieces. "You are lying." Savannah whispered unbelievably. "Then go ahead. Let him use you. You will remember my words when he forces himself on you. You will remember me when he will kill you just the way he killed her," shouted Damien in anger.

Salvatore sighed; he wished he could do more for her the way Adler did, take matters into his hands and make sure she was okay, He might be holding her deepest secret and helping her get rid of it, but was that enough? "Hey," a hand fell on his shoulder, "I've been looking for you." Salvatore stared at the hand on his shoulder, then looked up at its owner, he immediately went rigid, listening to his world go silent. "I didn't know you were here, Boss." Victor Domenico, second son to the Godfather, standing at least six foot, with an easygoing frame, sad brown eyes that were inherited from his mother, sharp intellect that set him above the rest, and an excellent attribute that could have had

For one suspended, unbearable second, no one moved. Then the driver’s door opened. A figure stepped out into the rain. Tall. Lean. Silhouetted by the headlights. Damon’s stomach dropped. Because even through the storm and the distance He recognized him. Viktor. Alive. And not alone. Th e rear passenger door of the SUV opened slowly. Another figure stepped out. Calm. Elegant. Shoulders straight despite the blood and soot. Damon’s breath turned to ice. Matteo Laurent.

"I spent months down there when I was sixteen and my father was teaching me how to dispose of bodies, I know every passage and every exit and which walls are solid versus which ones are just old brick that can be broken through." "Then we spend today mapping our strategy and tomorrow we hit the restaurant." I was feeling something that might have been hope or might have been insanity. "We make Salvatore so angry that coming after us personally is the only way he can restore his reputation." "And if this works, if we actually manage to kill him..." Carlo trailed off. "Then Matteo becomes Don and he's even worse than his father." Damien finished. "Which is why we can't just kill Salvatore, we

For a moment, the silence pressed on my chest, and I looked around for a way out of this place. Then I heard him. Alpha Dominic Salvatore, standing by the window, his back to me. The moonlight caught the edges of his frame, broad shoulders, tense posture, veins flexing down his arms. “You should have knelt,” he said, voice sharp as the blade at his hip. “Even the idea of you speaking back the way you did should have gotten you killed.” “Then why didn’t it?” I asked, testing him. “I wouldn’t have minded. I would have been free of all this.”

The driver’s door opened. A tall, powerful figure stepped out, framed by the headlights like a silhouette carved from shadow and authority. When he spoke, his deep, steady voice carried a mix of urgency and something she had never heard from him before—concern. “Mrs. Salvatore?” Elena’s breath caught in her throat. She blinked hard, barely believing her eyes. Standing before her was Sir Donald Salvatore—Damien’s uncle, the youngest brother of Damien’s late father, and the man who ruled the southern branch of the Salvatore empire with absolute dominance.

He wanted the attempts on his and the Danvers family life to stop tonight, and he was going to make sure of that. Salvatore, who appeared relaxed in his office chair, observed Liam closely. He couldn't help but be impressed by Liam's composure. The way Liam sat there, looking carefree despite knowing the potential danger he was in, made Salvatore wonder about his thoughts and intentions. He finally remarked, "You seem smart, Mr. Danvers."

I watched Elena from the corner of my eye; she was crying too, but she didn’t look sad… rather, she looked fulfilled. “I’m so sorry, son.” Salvatore sobbed, letting Damien pull him to his body in a hug. Wrapping his arms around his son’s shoulders, he kept muttering apologies. He looked like he’d aged years in the last ten minutes and was no longer the titan who walked into the mansion earlier. “I should have been a better father. I swear, from now on, I’ll be a better father to you. To all of you.” Damien releases his father slowly, rising to his feet. His voice comes out gravelly, and he grabs his father by the shoulders and commands softly. “Get up…..dad.”

“You’ve been carrying your own pain in silence since your sire. Talk to us.” Damien stared at the opposite wall for a long moment, crimson eyes distant. The elegant, cold vampire rarely showed vulnerability. But after watching Kael shatter and Serena burn her mother-figure twice, something inside him cracked. “I wasn’t always like this,” he said quietly. Damien’s Story “I was turned in 1897. London. I was twenty-four, the youngest son of a powerful aristocratic family. My father wanted me to join the military. My mother wanted me in politics. I wanted neither. I wanted freedom.”

VICTORIA I kept staring a second longer until a folder was placed on my lap. “Read through the agreements so you know if everything’s okay,” Mr. Dante whispered, and I snapped out of it, realizing the meeting had already started. From our side, in the dark, I watched the signs on the screen while the interpreter relayed them to Lorenzo. He said he apologized for not attending. “I wasn’t expecting you. I was expecting your father. Patriarch Dmitri Brona is the one I’ve always made deals with,” Lorenzo shot back without a shred of respect.