Stefan Salvatore Quote Novels & Stories

He utters spitefully. “That observation, I am afraid, is correct. I will sign off the account that the money for your charity is going to be deducted from. If that's all, I shall take my leave now,” the words rush out of my lips, and I wait for this man to try and cut me off. He wasn’t wise enough to read the room because he spoke up when everything would have ended here. “My daughter says your date or whoever it is you came with tonight, slapped her. I must let you know that I am not pleased,” Salvatore exclaims.

I tell him, smiling at him. " What if they come back with something new to fire at you, what then?" Elena asks. " Why would there be something new?" Keith asks, arching his brow at Elena, who shrugs her shoulders. Not wanting things to turn out all awkward, I turn to Mr Salvatore senior. "Mr Salvatore-" " Vince please." "Okay Vince, so you've been travelling right?" " Yes, a lot." " What's the weirdest things you ate?" " Aah, a snail."

This moment felt real and unreal. “She has your eyes.” Hamzat suddenly said once we were close enough. Ignoring Hamzat's words, Massimo smirked at me. “Ignatius, where is Salvatore?” “...” I was momentarily shocked by the question. Why is he asking for that man? “I heard he retired peacefully. Like a log of wood.”Hamzat chuckled. “You are quite brave.” Hamzat nodded at me. He was praising me for taking Salvatore out. Should I be happy?

Salvatore shrugged like I’d asked something stupid, “What? I’m just stating facts. You sulking around the house isn’t gonna magically bail her out. Maybe if they hadn’t been sloppy, they wouldn’t be sitting in a cell right now.” A hot, sharp rush of anger slammed through me so hard I actually pushed my chair back. “You really want to go there?” I said, standing, “You want to talk about sloppy? About mistakes? About who the hell is responsible for what?” Across the table, Vincenzo stiffened. Adriano’s jaw flexed. Dante muttered under his breath but no one said a word. No one stopped me. Salvatore folded his arms, “Oh, here we go,” he said, “The Alessia Show. Cue the crying. Cue the guilt. Cue

“I was just asking Daddy about Uncle Pietro. Is he scary like Daddy says? Is that why he travelled? Because I know he is not scary like you.” Luca nearly choked on the sip of coffee he’d just taken. He covered his mouth quickly and forced out something between a laugh and a snort. “Your Dad said I was scary?” he asked, shooting Salvatore a warning glance, because it was clear that Salvatore had evaded the question by providing Leo with a vague answer about Pietro, and then pushing him to Luca. “I didn’t say you were scary,” Salvatore interrupted from the doorway. He looked… relieved at the point the conversation was going. “I said you were intense. There’s a difference.”

"Because this is a vendetta, even the slightest bit of uncertainty is an opportunity to attack, you taught me that, remember, Salvatore?" "Just get to the point," He put down his pen, looking up at Stephan with cold unmoving eyes. "What are my parent's sayings?" "Do I look like the god of messages to you, Salvi?" He tilted his head to look at him with a raised eyebrow. "I am not here to convey your parent's worries; I am here to convey my own worries," The Mafia Boss raised an eyebrow at the words.

“I'm someone very important to Vie, and I know she doesn't want you, so leave.” “Do you know who you're speaking to?” Salvatore doesn't flinch, matching my intense gaze. “And you seem to have forgotten who owns the pack you currently reside in. I just need one word to completely eradicate you from this world.” With a challenging stare I stepped forward. “I would love to see you try.” “You underestimate me, Vaelor.” Salvatore smirked. “Stop swimming in past glory.” “You are the one with spitting delusional takes. I'm not underestimating anyone.”

"MONSTER! YOU MONSTER!" Salvatore wiped the bloody knife on his pants. His face was empty, no sadness, no anger, no regret. Just cold, calm nothingness. "I never said I wasn’t a monster," he said. Tears streamed down my face as I fought against the guards holding me down. "You killed her! She was sick! She was old! She couldn't even fight back!" Salvatore leaned in close until his lips were almost brushing against my ear. His breath was warm, but his words were colder than ice. "Let this be your lesson, Elena. Disrespect me again, and you will wish I killed you as quickly as I did her."

And when he asks us if we know what we want to start with, Salvatore orders one of everything off the appetizer menu. “We’ll let you know when we’re ready for pizza,” he adds. I blink at him until the waiter leaves. “Are you insane? We can’t eat all that food!” Salvatore simply shrugs. “We’ll box up whatever’s left. It won’t go to waste. Besides, you deserve to have what you want.” “I want a salad.” He smiles at me and nudges the basket of buttery breadsticks toward me. “Eat up. Live a little. Fuck your figure. I did, and now, you don’t have to worry about it.”

His fingers began to scratch and caress his chin solemnly while his neck was bent a little. I noticed Salvatore's jaw tightened. Three minutes of standing up and I can't bear to lose more time to entertain a man who won't say a single word to me. “You're interrupting my scope of work. It's best to leave if you have nothing to tell me.” I affirmed with a low yet baritone voice. Salvatore spoke. “So this is your nature of work now? Letting other men feast on your body as you walk around? They can see what's beneath your dress in just a single crouch.” He sarcastically affirmed, mocking my sense of work.