Stefan Salvatore Outfits Novels & Stories

Spade said taunting him. He just started laughing again, causing Spade to grit his teeth, he hated that laughter, he hated Salvatore's face and wanted to bash it in with a hammer "If you think you're going to torture me to get answers out of me, you're just waisting your time" salvation spat out, watching as Spade raised his brows at him. "Oh I'm not going to be the one to do the torturing, he is" he said and just then Stefano stepped into the light, his all black attire and his two small knives in his hands as he entered into the cell.

Salvatore spoke and I pouted. I was just beginning to have fun with him and now we were already on the run once more. "Why?" I questioned him. I closely watched as Salvatore was only dressed in a joggers with no shirt on revealing his mouthwatering muscles along with his tattoos. I bit my bottom lip just fantasizing what I would do to him. Salvatore smiled for the first time since meeting him, "Once we're out of this mess I will give you everything your body ask and more Isabella." I blushed pulling the sheet above my chest.

"Tell him the​ Wolf is back. And tell h​im the sheep is dead." Ten minutes later, Don Salvatore shuffled i⁠nto t‍he courtya‍rd in his dress⁠ing gow⁠n and​ slippers. He looked at Lo‌renz‍o. He looked at the blood‍ on the ground‍. He‍ smiled. A terri‍fyi​ng⁠,⁠ toothle​ss smile. "You look like a butcher, boy," S‍alva⁠tore‍ ca‌ckled.

They’ll survive in my car until I figure out where they belong. ------------------------ When I see Salvatore waiting for me outside the restaurant, I nearly groan. He's so smoking hot, it's unfair. His thick hair is playfully disheveled and yet somehow makes his charcoal gray look all the more professional. There’s a five o’ clock shadow dusting his jaw and I’m suddenly struck with the desire to find out what that feels between my thighs. Focus, stupid girl. At least I didn’t overdress for the occasion. Salvatore picked the restaurant, and I figured an LBD would be the safest bet no matter where we ended up being.

“ Do you think I’m excited about all these? Why not stop and think? Will your mom ever want such a union between you and that messed up fellow? Alessia, if I had my way, Salvatore's head will be hanging at the entrance of your father’s mansion. Speaking of Salvatore, was he here in the hall just taking his new pet in? What does he even look like? I could have done a quick search of him, but I was too occupied with sulking and crying myself to sleep. Three different cakes of foundation powder was barely enough to hide my black bags and how horrible my pretty gray eyes looked at the moment.

he replied taking his shirt off. "But.... a week of suspension is too short. darn that director." I said rolling my eyes. " so, let's start making plans! what do you suggest? "I added grinning up at Salvatore like a child. He opened his closet pulling out a sweat pants and a tank top,wearing it. " we can think about so later..... maybe some other time but what I do know is that you should get that lazy ass off my bed, down to the kitchen! good idea, right?"he said smiling.

Salvador, Raffaele's father walks into Raffaele's lavish home where his men panic seeing him. This meant only one thing, Raffaele was having one of his episodes. Salvador spots Raffaele seated crossed-legged on the floor, holding a gun to his head. He was talking to himself and swaying to and fro. But what stood out from his bizarre behavior was the cotton sundress he had on. It was torn from behind as it was obvious Raffaele forced himself into it and tore it. One of the spaghetti straps was broken and the short dress came to his hip just above his boxers.

Salvatore She stepped into the office looking messy. From her face, to her hair to her clothes. From my sideview,I noticed Stefano shaking his legs vigorously, he wasn't saying anything but I could tell he was angry and was barely holding his anger. “You gat to be kidding me,” he muttered. Vittorio on the other hand didn't react, he just watched everything with observation.

I was pacing the length of the small Persian rug, my navy suit jacket thrown over the back of an armchair while my fingers methodically tugged at the knot of my silk tie, the silk suddenly feeling like a noose as the clock on the wall ticked closer to two. "You're going to wear a hole in that floor, Noah." Stefan’s voice was a low, velvet purr from the edge of the leather sofa. He had changed out of his suit into a simple, form-fitting black long-sleeve tee and dark trousers, his wet hair pushed back carelessly with his fingers, looking entirely too calm for a man whose multi-million-dollar career was currently balanced on the edge of a knife.

Shocked to the bone. "Where are the others?." Stefan looked up and of course, my heart quickened slightly when I saw what he was wearing. Just a plain apple green button- down, dark blue jeans and his black converse, nothing unusual or elegant, but hell he looks damn good. His dirty blonde hair was untidy, his grey-blue eyes bored into mine. "They're training out. I've been waiting for you to wake up." He replied tossing a pancake on the plate.