Romans & histoires Stefan Salvatore Damon Salvatore

I visibly shrank away from him and Damon leaned forward as if trying to put himself in front of me. “My dear Lucea,” Jackson said as he stood behind Calvin. “Gamma O’Leary,” Robins said as he looked confused, “what is the meaning of your interruption?” “I’ve come to take my wife home,” he said and my eyes widened at the mention of his title. “You won’t touch her,” Damon said as he looked at him. “Where’s my son you bitch?” he asked her as I started hyperventilating and Damon jumped up and slid across the table.

Xanthis broke the silence first. "Do you need introductions? I'm Xanthis Diaz Montero, older than Dre by six minutes. I'm the smart ass here. He's Alexandre Leon Montero, older than you by two minutes. He's a mafia bos, a major alpha male" Xanthis said, scrunching up his nose. Everyone laughed at the expression on his face. But, Valentino was too tensed to do that.

Looking up, I saw Samuele smirk. “Hello again.” I nodded once more, not out of rudeness, but because these pancakes were absolutely incredible. They might have been the best I’d ever tasted—or maybe it was just because I hadn’t eaten all day. After I finished my delicious pancakes, the man who rescued me spoke again. “This is Stefano, Luca, Samuele, and Ciro. You’ll be seeing them a lot,” he said, pointing to each one as he said their names. I didn’t like the idea of being in a room full of handsome men.

I ordained and we silently made our way to the kitchen. Connor closed the kitchen door behind him. We each got a slice of pizza and started eating. “This is so damn good.” Jake hummed as he munched on his slice. “Fuck yeah!” Alex swore as he took a second bite. Connor grimaced when he saw the amount of cheese on it. “Ugh! That’s too much cheese.” He huffed. His lips twitched. “It’s not our fault. We did not know you guys were coming over.” Jake shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

the man said in a very angry tone. "Look Jay is very hard to crack but I promise you can have her, she is a virgin so she is worth the wait. I promise sir we had a deal, I'll slip something in her water." Stacy said to the very angry man. So she was selling us out what the hell.

I wanted to vomit. Damon had done this. There was no mistaking it. “My King?” One of the men holding me left me and walked toward Damon who was sitting still by a corner, his hands covered with blood. His stare made me uncomfortable as I couldn’t tell whether he was still in his right mind or not. What if he was just resting from his killing spree and would soon snap again? He looked more like a savage at that moment than the man that was my mate. Slowly, he got up and began to walk to me. I swallowed, falling back and realizing all the other men who had brought me in there had disappeared. I shut my eyes, praying he would remember who I was and not hurt me.

Sam. He simply flashed his perfect teeth, unfazed by my glare. "You don't have to worry," he said, his voice confident and calm. Standing there in a white singlet and black shorts, his rough, sexy hair messy and undone, he looked breathtakingly handsome. It was infuriating. Why did he have to be my stern, infuriating stepbrother? "I would do you the honors of showing you to your room," his voice laced with sarcasm. "I don't need your favors," I snapped back. He smirked, "We both know you’re lying.”

To Damien, she was the most gorgeous she-wolf in the pack, and he indeed saw all the she-wolf. None of them rivaled her in beauty, yet he had let her leave as though she was an irritant in his life. Also, he was her stepfather, which had made it even stranger. Damien had learnt how he used many of the shewolves there. He knew of how Emberlynn's stepfather sold the shewolves for prostitution, and it should have been Emberlynn's turn until his arrival. Damien had been livid. The urge to want to challenge him to a duel had filled him, but then he had thought against it.

The reflection of the restaurant flickers over the windowpane, blending strangers and headlights into a moving blur. I open the folder again, because of course I do. Some part of me can’t stop. Damon Vale stares back at me from a glossy phototaken at a conference, suit immaculate, expression unreadable. He looks like a man who never loses control of anything. Not his company. Not his secrets. I trace the line of his jaw with my eyes, studying every detail. He’s the kind of man people underestimate until it’s too late. The kind who makes enemies quietly and buries them just as silently.

“Yes, or no?!” A few of them jolted, Salvatore, included, and he cleared his throat, forcing his gaze back on me. “Yes, Damon, but it doesn’t mean—“ “You fixed a meeting, Salvatore, and how was I the last to know about it, as the head mafia kingpin?” I queried, my tone derisive. “Is that the respect you speak about?” “Well—“ “You should be thankful I even showed up at all,” I interrupted, glaring at him. “Now, let’s get on with the fucking meeting, shall we? I have better things to do than sit here arguing about respect with you lots.”