Damon Salvatore Novels & Stories

Others hadn’t. Salvatore raised his hand and pointed. “Damon, step forward.” Gasps filled the room. Damon was a tall young man with wide shoulders and clear eyes. He looked shocked. “M-me?” Damon asked. “Yes,” Salvatore said. “You’ve worked hard. You’ve been loyal. And you’ve shown me that you care about this pack.” Damon slowly walked forward. He looked nervous. “I don’t know if I deserve this,” Damon said softly. “You do,” Salvatore replied. “And if anyone wants to challenge it, speak now.”

"When you ask me that, I usually don't know what to say." "What's your full name?" "Damon Salvatore," He said with a smile. "Italian, huh," I nodded at him with a smile. I knew. He had the features. The trim figure, olive skin, dark hair, characteristic razor sharp jawline, aquiline nose and lastly, the natural charm and charisma. "I can see why," No wonder he had this pull. He exuded so much confidence. He didn't even have to act it. It was a part of him.

Some dropped their thumbs at us while the rest uttered profanity for being a team of losers. His name is Damon Salvador. Apart from that he is the son of the King of the vampires, Damon is the most arrogant, ruthless, and self-centered vampire I have ever known. Degrading, humiliating, and ruining someone's life is his best fortë since he could not kill someone's life as well. Our team hates him to the deepest part of our souls. Those vampires who are not well aware of his attitude being the worst will basically end up giving up their own lives. But the four of us are already accustomed to his treat and tricks. His team was also assigned to New York.

Might as well have him wipe it with a napkin instead of using the back of his hand. Both men frowned at me before seeing me pull out two napkins to hand to Dante before throwing inside the car. He looked at them for a second before taking them from me and wiping his nose again. “Eva D’Angelo” I said, extending my hand for him to shake, letting him know that I meant them no harm “daughter of Beta, or in other words, ex beta, Mattia D’Angelo and Gabriella D’Angelo. Keeper of the Guardian’s Eye, and as a relation to you, I believe that I am brother’s mate…”

He had a proud Roman nose, a mess of curly hair that hung just above his eyes, high cheekbones, and soft lips that women in the bar would probably die to kiss. Seriously, this is the man I get worried about? “Montreal.” Salvatore smiles. The heavy and thick Italian accent rolls his tongue. He quickly stands up from the couch he sat on and moves forward with one arm extended, ready for a handshake. “I’m glad we wouldn't be stood up tonight. I prepared a feast.” Damon joked, clapping his palm on his shoulder. I stay back a little, letting the two indulge in their reunion even though I know they’ve just seen each other at the engagement.

"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

Don Salvatore was a very decent man and no matter how Allan tried, he couldn’t get anything to complicate him. He bowed slightly in appreciation to Casper before turning his attention to Cassandra, captured by her extraordinary features, as he bowed to her slightly before extending his hand for a dance. As soon as they joined hands and began to dance to the tune of the guest singer, background information about Salvatore began to play and everyone realized that he owned the biggest casinos in Las Vegas. “Thank you, Don Salvatore,” Casper said as soon as his timer beeped, showing that the one minute was done. Cassandra was relieved. Don Salvatore was a gentleman but her heart was already take

A nervous laugh escaped me—then immediately turned into a groan as I clutched my stomach. Nope. It didn’t help. I was still panicking. Because here was the issue: Damiano wasn’t some random guy you clap back at, then mute on I*******m. No. He was Damiano freaking Valentino. Mafia lord and Salvatore's third in command. Murderous glare. Walking nightmare in an expensive suit. And I… I had just told him off. “Congratulations,” I muttered to myself, dragging my palms down my face until my cheeks squished like a sad pancake. “You’ve officially signed your own death certificate—with glitter pen. Maybe he’ll frame it.”

I grab his asset and fuck! I step back in fear, breaking the kiss, and in the end, Santino ends up knocking my lip. My hand feels my lips that feel raw. Some blood stains my finger where he bit me. “Fuck you!” “Are you sure? That you want to do that? ‘Cause you chickened out the moment you felt my dick. I did warn you not to test me, Samantha. I am the dragon king. I am way much bigger than your average human being.” He smirks, and fuck, he can be just as cocky as Maximo if he wanted to. I finally conclude that Santino is dangerously ruthless, and he knows I am scared of the monster in his pants.

I asked him. “Ah it seems you don’t know everything,” he said. “Like I told you, it’s stuff I made up and dreamt about,” I said to him. “The man you spent all your time with, Damon Woods, he’s an Enforcer,” Calvin said. “Is he like you?” I asked him as my heart started beating loudly. “In a way, we’re wolves, they’re jaguars,” he said. “What is an enforcer?” I asked him as pieces started fitting together. Damon knowing things, always being awake when I was no matter what the time. Damon always finding me. Damon sniffing the air just like Calvin had done, his eyes slightly changing.