Stefan Salvatore Elena Gilbert Novels & Stories

I was ready to fight for my love. The door to my room creaked open and I saw Viola standing by the post. Her eye widened with a smile with a smile which never got to her eyes. “Elena, sister,” she called with surprise and excitement. “We’ve all been searching for you. Are you alrifh?” She asked as she walked into my room. Her purple eyes flicked from me to the doctor, then back to me. I gave doctor Tancredi a sign to leave, then forced a smile, just like Viola did. “I am fine, Viola. Why’s everyone worried? Aren’t you the Luna now?” I responded, instinctively taking my hands off my stomach.

I did not think I could handle Giuseppe's touch, much more this. Salvatore walked into the room and sat in a chair in a corner. “I hope you are going to give me a good show, Giuseppe,” he said as he sat down. “I never disappoint,” Giuseppe responded, standing behind me, his hard d*ck pressing into my back. My pulse quickened and my body shivered. “You are going to be mine for tonight, Angelo,” he whispered, his mouth on my ear, his tongue almost licking it.

) Giovani smiled and stretched his hand to shake but Elena kept staring at him and finally stated with a straight face, "Giovanni Salvatore from the University of Padua?" Giovanni stiffened, only a few people knew he went to this university. The USA knew entirely different things about him. He looked at Aaron with a questioning look in his eyes but even Aaron was clueless. He didn't know how Elena Ferrari knew this about his grandfather when the information was not in public knowledge.

He suddenly released my wrists and stumbled a couple of steps backward. He started laughing in a low voice, sounding as if something was breaking within him. "Fine," he said. "You claim that you're not Lina. Then, tell me. What's your name?" "Elena," I replied. "Elena," he repeated, his gaze darkening. Dante looked like he was about to say something else when he noticed the burn mark behind my ear. It was the one spot that I couldn't cover up with a glove or a mask. A faint, winding scar extended from behind my earlobe to my jawline, reminiscent of a snake.

Couldn't answer. "You saved my sister's life tonight," Dante said after a pause. "Did you know that? The Bianchis have been looking for a way into the Moretti organization for years. If Sofia married into their family, they'd have a direct line to our operations through you. Through our connection." "I didn't do it for you." "I know." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You did it for Sofia. For yourself. For the woman you're becoming." He stood. "I'm proud of you, Elena. Whatever that's worth."

Elena suddenly smiled strangely. She glanced at Killian who was chatting and laughing downstairs, then suddenly grabbed my wrist. "Halen, if I jump from here, do you think Killian will save me or kill you?" "Are you crazy? This is the high seas!" Before I could shake her off. Elena suddenly screamed: "Ah—! Halen, don't push me! Help!" Immediately after, she unhesitatingly flipped over the railing, falling into the bone-chillingly cold seawater like a kite with a broken string.

Inside, it smelled like old beer, cheap cleaner, and fried food no one should ever think of eating. Marcello took up post by the door, I clocked the exits without thinking, the way Pietro taught me. At the back of the bar, I spotted Salvatore Greco. Gray at the temples, still built like a man who had earned his place, not the kind of man you crossed unless you had backup. I walked straight to his table and dropped the envelope in front of him. "From Romano," I said. He looked at the envelope like it was made of acid, his fingers drummed the table once, then he picked it up and slit it open with a pocket knife.

He came down to join Damien and Alondra at the dining table. "Don’t just stand there, come in," the chairman said calmly. Lyriel forced a soft smile as Gilbert held her hand, leading her towards the table. She rolled her eyes when he wasn’t looking but still sat down beside him. Soon after, Eleanor also joined them, making the dining table complete. Just as everyone prepared to eat, Gilbert abruptly stood up. Damien sighed and leaned back, already expecting some kind of unnecessary display. "Mother, Father," Gilbert began, straightening his posture proudly, "this is Lyriel, my girlfriend."

“Who did you sell to?” Galli shrugged. “Highest bidder. Didn’t get a name.” Elian leaned across the table. His shoulders dropped, muscles coiling beneath his dark shirt. The steak knife in his left hand snapped forward, too quick to warrant intervention, and plunged the point between Galli’s plump fingers. Uneasy quiet followed. The hilt swayed, the blade stuck in the liminal space between Galli’s index and middle fingers. It wavered like a poorly planted flag. “Tell me,” Elian breathed, “Why shouldn't I kill you right now?”