Novel & Cerita Elena Gilbert Stefan Salvatore

"Really, Sofia? Are you saying that about my wife?" Salvatore’s voice didn't rise, but it dropped into a terrifying, icy register that made the temperature in the room plummet. His dark eyes locked onto Sofia like a predator targeting a rabbit. The lazy, amused smirk was completely gone from his face, replaced by a cold, murderous promise. "I... I..." Sofia stuttered, the blood instantly draining from her face. She took a panicked step backward, completely choked by the suffocating aura radiating off him. "Don’t you dare talk to my daughter like that, Salvatore! Don’t!" Elizabeth shrieked, throwing her arm out to shield Sofia. She glared at Salvatore with raw, unhinged hatred. "I will still

I excused myself from the conversation with a word and began moving toward her. I was halfway across the room when a voice rang out behind her. Clear and loud enough to carry. “You must be Mrs. Salvatore.” A brief pause. “Luciano’s wife.” The words landed like something dropped into still water. The ripples spread immediately. The men I had just left paused their conversation. The young woman talking to Ella looked up. Heads turned to that vicinity. Ella turned. I turned. Damien Ross stood behind her, hand extended, wearing that smile.

Chapter 6 Elsie For a moment, nothing happens. The priest stares at the man in front of him like he doesn’t understand the language that was just spoken. Salvatore—because I remember now, faintly, that someone said his name that night—doesn’t move. He stands beside me with the same quiet patience he walked down the aisle with, as if he has all the time in the world. The church is completely silent, and then, somewhere in the back, someone begins to sob softly.

They had spaghetti, fruit salad, and a cake with a candle shaped 18 on it. Ellaine was forced to speak just to break the awkward silence, “Auntie, a while ago I met a strange woman. Her name is Margarette.” “Margarette? I don’t know a woman named Margarette living in the neighborhood.” “Maybe that’s because she’s living near the city proper. She has this shop selling weird stuffs as well.” Ellaine was not interested in eating her spaghetti anymore. She was merely poking it with her fork. “What kind of weird stuffs?”

"Six months? But you were married to George then." I faltered, realizing the timeline discrepancy. "We were just friends at first. Nothing happened until after George and I separated." "Of course." Elena said, though her expression suggested she didn't believe me. "Well, you certainly landed on your feet. Damien Salvatore... he's quite the catch. Intimidating as hell, though." "He can be," I admitted, thinking of the surprising gentleness he sometimes revealed beneath that intimidating exterior. Elena checked her makeup, then gave me another appraising look. "Listen, we should get coffee sometime. Catch up properly. I'm working at Knight Gallery now, Richard's giving me a chance to curate my

Angel retreated, resting back into his chair, just as a back door opened and Salvatore walked in. “Hello, brother. Wait. Elena?.” Salvatore’s watchful eyes wandered from his brother to Elena. “What are you doing here?” He asked. “I invited her here.” Angel countered, not giving Elena a chance to respond. “To your studio? That's even more weird. You never let anyone in here.” “Hi Sal. Sorry, I left the range in haste. Had to deal with something.” Elena apologized, giving Salvatore a tight smile. A pang of guilt gnawed on her insides considering he had invited her there in the first place.