Who Is Elena Gilbert's Dad Novels & Stories

"Is there anything else you're holding back from me?" There was a hesitation. The kind that made the seconds tick by at a slow crawl. Then he said, "There's one thing." Elena took a step back, her eyes narrowing. "What?" Killian drew in slowly, like he was gearing up for something. "It's not about your dad." Her lungs constricted. "What's going on with him?" "He was working with Sophia." The words landed like a grenade. Elena took a step back, stumbling over her own balance. "What are you saying?"

Elena. We had a very unexpected visit today, from a man that I would be seeing for the first time and yet very scared of. Mr. Deangelo’s father, Alessandro Ferrari. Even though he had been around for hours now, I could not stop myself from sneaking fearful looks his way.

“That boy is brave. Honest. And he doesn’t look like he’s playing around.” Nathan looked at his wife. “Do you like him?” “I like his courage.” Reno added calmly, “Elang is serious about Delya. He is not the type to play with women.” Nathan remained silent. Elena continued, “And you know, Nathan… it turns out Elang is Reno’s son.” Nathan looked at Reno again. “The grandson of Samuel Wilson and Rebecca Castillo,” Elena added softly. Nathan fell silent for a longer moment this time.

Standing up quickly, I tidied myself up and answered the door only to see my parents holding some envelope in their arm. "Let us in." Dad demanded while I just looked at them, not in the mood to deal with their nonsense. "Get out." I instructed, ready to shut the door on their faces but mom's words stopped me. "We know what's going on with you and we can help but first of all you have to divorce Elisa Gilbert." What?

Amelia's POV My father's name. I heard Alexander say it and I sat in the chair by the window and I did not move and I did not speak and I let the words land and settle and become real at whatever speed they needed to become real. Gerald Quinn. Not as a passive participant. Not as a man who had made a bad business deal and looked the other way while his daughter's career was stolen. As a name in a dead woman's letter. Written by Elena in the last week of her life as someone above Richard Voss. Someone who had wanted Alexander's company and wanted Elena gone because she was the one person who could stop it.

“Miriam is claiming she’s pregnant and insists on proving her case. She’s demanding you proceed with the paternity DNA test immediately.” “I’ve already agreed to it,” I replied, my tone sharp. “Have the test conducted as soon as possible. Let me know the results.” “Understood, sir,” the officer replied. I hung up and turned back to Sophia, who was watching me intently. “Is everything okay?” she asked. “As okay as it can be,” I said, forcing a small smile. “The DNA test will settle this once and for all.” Two days later, I received the results. Miriam was indeed pregnant but I wasn’t the father. Relief washed over me, but it was quickly replaced by anger. She had tried to destroy my reputatio

Celestine didn't move for a moment. Then she said, "How far." "Three months. Maybe just past." "You're sure." "I've been sure for three days," Elena said. "I was just sitting with it." Celestine looked at the worktable. At the fabric Elena hadn't been cutting. At the sketchbook open to a blank page, the first blank page Elena had left in months. "The father," she said. "He's in Moscow," Elena said. "He's working for his father's company. He's twenty-one years old and he has a plan that was built before any of this and this isn't in it."

“This, dear Elena, is a letter from the hospital. As you can see, it bears the official logo. And according to this letter, I am three weeks pregnant.” I blinked rapidly, my heart dropping with each word she spoke. “And guess who the father is?” she said, eyes twinkling with evil delight. “None other than your prince charming, Gilan. Yes, your Gilan. And soon, we’ll be married.” “No,” I gasped. “That’s not true. You’re lying.”

"Your real father, Mr. Black. William. He had people everywhere. Judges. Cops. Politicians. I couldn't go to the authorities because the authorities were on his payroll." "And now?" "Now William is dead. Your father—Elena's father—is dead. Only Daniel remains. And Daniel is sloppy. Greedy. He's been making mistakes for months." "What kind of mistakes?" Margaret glanced at me. Hesitated. "He's been watching Elena. Closely. Too closely. He has photographs of her going back years—her apartment, her office, her favorite coffee shop. He knows her routines. Her habits. Her vulnerabilities." I felt sick.

“I don’t have her number. And you two are divorced. Let her be, Drake.” But Drake’s voice dropped. “My mother and I saw her today. Elena had a little girl with her.” There was silence, then Gerald’s surprise broke through. “What? I thought the child didn’t survive, back when Elena was hospitalized.” “I thought so too,” Drake admitted. “But when I looked at that girl… her age… something doesn’t add up.” He dragged a breath through his teeth. “Gerald, if Elena reaches out to your lab again, I need to know. I need you to investigate for me. I need to know if that child is mine.”