Elena Gilbert Stefan Salvatore Novels & Stories

As soon as he stepped into the penthouse, Ary opened the email fully and began reading: Elena Ava Nolan, born December 25, 1997 to Jon Patrick and Gina Marie Nolan, both of Essex, Massachusetts. Mother, deceased. Personal Details: - Age: 23 - Nationality: American - Marital Status: Married (Bradley “Brad” Hawkins) Residence and Employment: - Last confirmed residence: Shared condo with Bradley Hawkins in Lawrence, MA. - Last known employment: Junior Chef at Scavos Eatery, Essex, MA, from where she resigned, citing “personal reasons”

“Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, kind of old... well, your age.” “And was he a total dick?” Elias nodded, “Yeah.” I gave Ella a heavy glance before closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. “Do you know who it is?” Cato asked, stepping forward, “Dad?” I slammed the champagne bottle on the table. “Luciano fucking Megestanis.” “Luciano? The guy who-” Cato began, his eyes flickering to Ella. “Yes, that guy.” The guy who molested Ella, raped a poor human woman, assisted Andrea Martinez, and somehow broke free from my prison. To list a few.

“Wait. Is this your rich boyfriend Ramon told us about?” I glanced at Liliana. She looked like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Before she could answer, I smiled. “I'm Liam Salvatore, owner of Salvatore Global Holdings.” The reaction was immediate. A few mouths dropped open. “Wait!” “You're the Liam Salvatore?” “Oh my God!” “Girl, you hit the jackpot!” The girls started screaming, and I couldn't help laughing. I looked at Liliana. She looked completely stunned. “No,” I said casually. “I'm the lucky one.” I slipped an arm around her waist. “My amore mio is my life.” Then I leaned down and gave her a quick peck.

She scurried leaving the place and drove off the car before the man was burned into his curious mind and tried to find it out. While she was driving, she called her boss, Johnny Sly and reported her short conversation with Susan Montegro. She clicked off the phone after her boss cleared her report as understandable repertoire she had made with the client. ‘What Martinez doing in that place? Susan Montegro said that his brother, named Curtis married with her sister?’ She rubbed her forehead as she was drowned into her thoughts. ‘So, my gut feeling was right. Martinez is not his real name. He must be Edward Philippe, the grand son of the old billionaire enterprises owner, Louis Philippe.’ Elen

“I’m not. I just wanted to hear you say it. What she said does not matter to me. She's nothing more than a weakling who acts on her emotions. She does not serve to benefit me in any way.” “Marissa would have been proud of what you’ve become,” I said, letting myself feel the sting of her name. “She wanted you safe, hidden from the world that destroyed her. But now, I want vengeance. And you, my dear, are going to be the blade that cuts through it all.” Delilah’s smile faded just slightly, her voice lowering. “You told me she died saving a boy. Damon. That Evelyn and Kael stood there, letting her burn. You told me that they watched her without reacting.”

"It's Luca. Are you okay?" Nothing. Then a muffled sound. Like someone trying to speak through a gag. Luca kicked the door. It didn't budge. He kicked it again, harder, remembering everything Elena taught him about using his body weight. The third kick splintered the frame. He burst inside to find Dr. Patel tied to a chair, gagged, her face bruised. Standing behind her was the last person Luca expected to see. Lorenzo Salvatore. Dante's father. "Luca," Lorenzo said calmly, like they'd run into each other at a café. "I was hoping you'd come. Saves me the trouble of grabbing you later."

Eleana greeted everyone politely. "Is there anyone left?" Eleana asked while looking at Antonio. He paused for a second before nodding yes. "Yes. We have a huge family. Some of them are out for work. But don't worry, they will all be here by dinner." Antonio informed her, making her nod. "Okay. I know you all already know me, most probably. But still, let me do a formal introduction too." Eleana cleared her throat before speaking. "I'm Eleana Davis Campbell, daughter of Sid—I mean Astrea Santoro and Cole Davis." Eleana corrected herself in the last part.

“It was a beautiful event, and from what we’ve heard, it was largely planned by your granddaughter-in-law, Kaitlyn Salvatore. Can you tell us more about that?” Elena smiled warmly, her eyes lighting up with pride. “Kaitlyn did an extraordinary job. She poured her heart and soul into the event, and it showed in every detail. I couldn’t be more proud of her. She’s taken on the responsibilities of being a Salvatore with such grace, and this event was just the beginning of what she’s capable of.” The interviewer nodded, impressed by Elena’s words. “It’s clear that she’s become an integral part of your family. How would you describe her relationship with your grandson, Estefan? There’s been a lot

Seeing her. “And you strike me as a collector who loves Caravaggio not for the artistry,” Elena replied, her voice cool, “but for the way he rendered violence with such breathtaking aesthetics.” Dante let out a quiet laugh. “Touché. I’m Dante Salvatore.” “I know who you are.” She didn’t extend her hand. “Elena Lafayette.” They moved through the pleasantries like fencers circling. Paris. New York. Art consulting. His research. Aria’s paranoidly thorough fictional past. Elena throwing truths at his face like knives.

And for a moment, everyone went quiet. I turned just as the doors opened again. Dominic Salvatore entered first. Alpha. Commanding. Unmistakable. At his side walked Aria Salvatore, his Luna, his wife, and lover… she was also the mother of his child. Her head was held high, her presence effortless, as if she had always belonged at his side. Whispers followed them, some admiring, some resentful. Luna Isobel’s lips thinned. “The woman who was sold as a slave,” she muttered coolly, “now standing as Head Luna. A slave who became the Alpha’s wife.”