Damon And Stefan Salvatore Novels & Stories

My brain scrambles for an answer that isn’t Detective Vivian Cross, cybercrime unit, currently investigating your company for possible financial fraud. “Vivian,” I say quickly. “Just Vivian.” “Just Vivian.” He repeats it softly, like he’s testing the sound. “Nice to meet you.” The waitress returns, apologizing for the spill, and Damon waves it off with a polite nod. His focus stays on me, calm but unreadable. When she’s gone, I exhale slowly. My hands are still damp, my heart beating far too fast. He glances at the folder beside me—half open, a corner of his photo visible. My breath catches.

Typical males. "Yes, please tell the chef to prepare the table." "Yes, ma'am." With the new information, only then did he nod and leave. When the door closed... "They are worried about you," Jason piped out. "What's there to be worried about?" I took my old seat. "You're hardly a threat, and besides, Dominic called you here." "With my good looks and charm, I can have any woman fall all over herself for me." I made a humming sound. It was true that Jason was a beautiful man in a boyish sort of way, but Dominic was handsome in a dangerous sort of way.

from Damien? A scowl twisted my lips as I thought of the man that had stolen Vivian's heart. Damien was dangerous, no doubt about that. But Vivian didn’t know that. She didn’t know the world she was involved in, didn’t know the kind of person she was surrounded by. **Damien Sullivan was a part of the Cosa Nostra**, and that meant he was a part of something far darker than she could imagine.

“Dinner out here. On the balcony. It’s better company than the walls. The night is cold, and it is only a matter of time before winter hits. And normally, that might call for no more dinner in the balcony if it is snowing. I wouldn’t mind, but I am not the one who puts the rules in this place.” “At this point, I believe that you do.” He said, making me smile. For a second, I thought he might refuse, Dominic Salvatore, the Alpha who dined behind closed doors, at a table filled with silverware that he most likely didn’t even bother using… not under the stars. But then something in his face softened, almost too subtle to catch. “Dinner on the balcony,” he repeated. “You drive a hard bargain.” “

"Most people have already left. There are specifics that Father and Cavallaro need to go over with Salvatore Vitiello. Now there is just Damon and his group." I peered through the gap and had a clear view of the throng of chairs gathered around the fireplace. With his legs crossed and a glass of Scotch in his hand, Damon relaxedly rested against the fireplace's marble ledge. He was sitting next to his brother Matteo, who had his legs apart and a wolfish grin on his face. During dinner, they had called Romero, the second bodyguard, and Cesare to sit in the other recliners. Romero appeared to be around 18 years old, which is the same age as Matteo. By social norms, they are hardly men, but n

the stranger said with a smirk in his face. " Excuse me! " Nina replied not understanding anything. " Well, seems like my brother forgot about my arrival and you're the only one to help me keep company now " the stranger said. " But whose your brother? "Nina asked confused. " oh yeah I totally forgot to introduce myself, I'm the one and only Stephen Salvatore, Damon's half brother " Stephen said clearing Nina's confusion. " Oh Stephen I'm so sorry. I didn't recognize you, Damon never told me you were coming" Nina said embarrassed.

It was all a game, and she would play accordingly. "Sorry, do we know you?" Stefan finally asked him, having stomached enough bullshit from the obstinate but powerful looking man almost seated next to Olivia. He should be angry, because he was finally having dinner with a lady he admires and Damian was trying to sabotage it, but he was not. He was calm and poised, knowing that nothing gets solved with anger. It only complicates matters. "We?" Damian spat as though it was a forbidden word "I guess you both are a 'thing' now?"

The door opens. Ethan first. My boyfriend. My anchor. He walks in and his eyes find mine and he smiles – steady, warm, I've got you – and the panic in my chest dissolves. Behind him: four men. Damon – tall, Black, built like an athlete, with a jaw that could cut steel. His eyes are dark and calm and he looks at me the way a man looks at something he's been given permission to devour. Nico – shorter, stocky, Italian heritage evident in his olive skin and dark curls. Thick arms. Thick hands. A cocky grin that says he knows exactly what he's good at.

Dante echoed, nearly stumbling with the effort. Lorenzo leaped like a rabbit drunk on joy. “I’m hit! I’m hit! But I shall rise—as an unstoppable zombie!” Their mothers laughed. Maria Salvatore in pale blue, Sophia Moretti shaking her head with bottomless affection, Elektra Russo elegant in white—until her own laughter cracked through the composure she always carried. At the grill, Victor Salvatore, Roberto Moretti, and Enzio Russo wielded tongs like surgical instruments, arguing heatedly about steak doneness as though lives depended on it.

Damon stopped what he was doing and gave Salvatore a I didn't ask for the details look. Salvatore stopped talking. He never asked for the details, he doesn't need them but Salvatore never fails to deliver them. Damon continued what he was doing again, his face was devoid of emotions. "He asked if he can see Daisy" Salvatore spoke again. Damon's bulky shoulders stiffened and he paused writing. His head raised to stare at Salvatore without saying a word. "I told him you didn't order that. I didn't let him" He provided quickly.