Novel & Cerita Stefan Salvatore Outfits

Rose smiled getting there before seeing Stephano standing by the outdoor grill along with Bartin. Stephano was wearing a shirt that was fully open with no bottons coming together leaving his chiselled chest and abs out in the open. He had black shades on along with green shorts. She admitted he was good looking. It was refreshing to see him not always covered in his suits but wearing something nice and breezy. And, she instantly knew coming here was a mistake.

It felt like I’d woken up in an alternate universe and had no idea what was going on. “Come here.” Salvatore pulled out a stool for me at the kitchen island. “Hurry, I have a meeting in a couple hours.” Did I hit my head after getting shot? The Salvatore I knew was pure evil. I mean…he made me wear a maid uniform without underwear just to exercise his supposed authority over me. It was a huge contrast to the man standing in front of me, looking like a little kid that wanted to show off his favorite toy which in this case was the food he cooked for me.

My back cracks comfortably after laying down, it's been a busy day but I haven't achieved anything, each day passing is a step closer to my punishment or freedom and I'm hoping for the latter. I sense someone approaching through the path, I sit up alert, who could it be? Maybe it's Ray? My eyes fix on the narrow entrance, soon a foot comes into view, I lift up my gaze following up the long muscular leg to the lean stomach, muscled chest and finally seeing the handsome face of none other than Salvatore. He is wearing his sweatpants and a casual shirt, his hands are full with some stuff. His eyes light up when they land on me. "What are you doing here?" I ask bluntly.

If a mere video already summoned that kind of horror, what would real life Salvatore do? Salvatore was tall and muscled, and every inch of his torso and arms was covered in tattoos. Flames and knives and screaming faces, and more images and words I couldn’t make out. The flames traveled down his arms to his wrists. They also snaked into his fighting shorts, ending on his muscled thighs. His expression was focused but completely emotionless. My fear turned into pure terror when the fight began. Salvatore was a fighting machine. Every

He held his ground, and his gun didn't shake in his hand. "I am, indeed," Salvatore responded. I turned my head sharply to the left to see Salvatore sitting casually on a chair. His face was not visible in the club's lighting. He wore tight leather clothes just like an assassin in the movies, and his hood was drawn over his face. Fucking hell, I would have been impressed if it weren't for the fact that he was killing my men. "And I wouldn't shoot me if I were you. I have this whole place rigged to explode and I have the detonator," Salvatore said. His voice had a tinge of an accent. It sounded deep and cold as he waved the small device in his hand.

With that, she turned towards the door as they were pulled open for her, the sound of laughter was the first thing she heard upon entering. Surprised, she looked up to see Salvatore in a three-piece pinstriped grey suit and black button-up laughing with Stephan who had his hair tied into a ponytail, wearing cargo pants with a denim button-up. They looked so contrasting, yet they both were laughing together. "Oh, you should have seen his face!" Stephan threw his head back. "I would have paid good money to see that happen," Salvatore nodded, composing himself, a smile still sported on his lips.

For a moment, the silence pressed on my chest, and I looked around for a way out of this place. Then I heard him. Alpha Dominic Salvatore, standing by the window, his back to me. The moonlight caught the edges of his frame, broad shoulders, tense posture, veins flexing down his arms. “You should have knelt,” he said, voice sharp as the blade at his hip. “Even the idea of you speaking back the way you did should have gotten you killed.” “Then why didn’t it?” I asked, testing him. “I wouldn’t have minded. I would have been free of all this.”

His full lips held no hint of a smile, and his tall frame nearly consumed his chair. He wore black pants with a black suit jacket, and his white shirt was open at the collar. No tie, because, as usual, he did what he wanted. And that’s all anyone could ever go on with Salvatore. How he appeared. How he looked. I didn’t think my father even ever knows what was happening behind those eyes.

His black leather jacket looked like something that would look odd in this sort of restaurant, but surprisingly it fit like a second sleeve over the charcoal turtleneck, beneath the sharp tailoring of his trousers and polished boots. He managed to transform the rugged piece into something undeniably aristocratic. I inhaled deeply, the cold air filling my nostrils. I couldn't remember the last time I came out to just be myself. I was either working or avoiding Vaelor. At least this night would be different. “Are you ready?” Salvatore asked. I nodded. He placed my hand in the crook of his elbow, leading me inside the restaurant as guards opened the towering glass doors. The clicking of my heel

He stated before leaving the room. Shaking her head, Serafina packed away all her things and got changed into a pair of denim jeans with a black high necked shirt and a fluffy jacket with her favorite long boots. Stepping out of her room, she found Salvatore getting out of his bedroom as well, dressed in black jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt beneath a charcoal grey overcoat, his gloves, and scarf in hand. Both of them glanced up at one another, looking at their attires before meeting the other's gaze. "Arsenio?" Her twin questioned knowingly.