Chapter 2
This man was shaking my hand when no other at the party had dared to do more than acknowledge the piece on Klaus's arm. His hand felt warm, like when you warm your hands over the fire on a cold day. What would it feel like to have those arms around me again? Sometimes, in the place before sleep and awake, I could feel him holding me so close. I could even smell him, car grease and wash soap.
Klaus wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me to him, forcing me to release Damon's hand. He leaned in and nipped my ear, tugging me so close to him, I was practically an appendage. A clear show of dominance.
"Don't look too excited, pet," he whispered in my ear. "You're mine."
I had to turn this around. I couldn't let Klaus know that I knew Damon, though I wasn't entirely sure that Damon remembered me. I tilted my head, let a seductive grin grow on my painted lips. "The only thing I'm excited about," I softly whispered, sinking into his embrace. "Is getting out of this dress and getting you to myself."
Klaus let out a chuckle. "Greedy one, aren't you?"
Leaning against his chest, one arm wrapped around me, the other with a drink in hand, Klaus seemed to have recovered from my slip. My eyes flicked to Damon's. The whole show was for him, after all. Klaus needed to mark his territory, draw an invisible line in the sand. Damon's expression was cold, his eyes clouded over with enmity, but he quickly recovered. "Klaus, I was hoping we'd have a moment alone to discuss business."
Klaus pressed a kiss to my cheek. "Go freshen up, kitten."
I mewed protest, playing his game. Always his game. He smacked my bottom playfully as I moved to leave, a reminder to leave but not go far. I let out a yelp and slinked off towards the bathroom slowly, trying to catch some of their conversation. "Where did you find her?" Damon asked casually, he could've been talking about the weather.
"Elena was a gift from above for vanquishing a nasty little traitor."
So the guy Klaus shot in the alley betrayed him. Going into business with Klaus meant Damon was as good as dead, I had to warn him, somehow, without Klaus finding out.
I continued walking to the bathroom, making sure I was within a safe distance of Klaus, when a large man stopped me by placing his broad frame in front of the washroom. He looked out of place at the party, with his parted blonde hair and skinny black tie. In his cheap knock off suit, it looked like he didn't get the memo themed dressed memo either.
"Elena Gilbert," he stated as though he were reading my name off of a monitor. All business, no inflection.
My eyes tried to find Klaus to see if he was watching this interaction. He could've sent someone to escort me, but this guy didn't look like one of Klaus's men. Klaus's back was turned, he was talking to Damon and Boyd Price, the Secretary of Trade and Commerce.
"It's okay," the man said. "Klaus can't see us."
That was not okay because in my experience, being alone with a man that was dumb enough to want to see me alone never ended well. I tried to walk around him, but he continued to block my path.
I sighed. "Sir," I said. "I need to use the washroom, so if you'd please move.."
"Afraid to talk to me?" He inquired.
I blinked. He should be the one afraid.
"What will happen when you get home tonight?"
Son of a bitch. I turned around trying to find Klaus. There was no way he'd be okay with this.
"Will you be beaten? Raped? Will he be so mad that you talked to someone else, he snaps and kills you?" He pressed.
I swallowed, feeling my anger rise I clenched my fist.
He continued, soaking in my every reaction, relishing in it. "What happens six months from now? A year from now? You have to know you have an expiration date."
I continued to try to push past him, but he stood there, like a fucking statue.
"Will anyone go to your funeral? Will anyone know you even existed?"
It happened fast. So fast. I shouldn't be surprised by these things anymore. With repressed anger, anger I'd been bottling up for years, I slapped him across the face. Even though the sound of hand on flesh reverberated throughout the room, his head barely swayed, so when I went for another hit, he clapped his hand around my wrist. He pulled me in, his head dipped to my ear.
"Before your boyfriend gets here to rescue you," he whispered. "I'm from the FBI." He slowly opened his jacket to reveal his badge. Matt Donovan.
"That means nothing to me," I replied. Klaus had people in every department of the government, and even if this guy was from the FBI, in my experience, anyone in some kind of power is corrupt.
"If you want your life to mean something, you can help the good guys take Klaus Mikaelson down. We already have someone else in Klaus's inner circle in place, we just need information that only you can get us."
A laugh escaped my lips. "If you think I'm privy to any information, than you don't know Klaus at all."
This wasn't entirely true, and I knew it, but I don't trust him.
"Your boyfriend's here," I felt something drop in my purse. "Call me when you're ready."
By the time I looked up, he was gone. Klaus was walking over, anger radiated off of him. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into the washroom, shutting the door behind us. "I thought I told you to behave yourself tonight. Slapping one of the guests isn't behaving yourself."
Shit. Fucking fuck shit.
I can't say anything.
If I tell him I was talking to an FBI agent, I'm as good as dead. If I tell him there's a mole in his organization, we're all as good as dead. Klaus's paranoia is notorious. If he even thinks I let something slip, he'd kill me or worse, lock me in the cage for the foreseeable future. If I tell him he was hitting on me, Klaus would find him and kill him. What if he was FBI and was actually trying to capture Klaus, don't I want that? But Damon was involved now, which would mean I'd be implicating him too.
I have to calm Klaus down and I can't draw his attention to who the man that I slapped was.
I have to lie.
I sagged against his chest and used all my anxiety from the past five minutes to sob. I looked up into his eyes, giving him a mournful look and tell him what he wants to hear. "I'm sorry, Klaus. I was so distraught and lonely after you sent me away that when a waiter bumped into me, I slapped him. I couldn't help it, I don't like being away from you."
Klaus put his hands on my shoulders and threw me against the wall. My head slapped back against the tile with such force, I almost blacked out, but my body was always ready for his abuse. I tried to stand but felt my legs give out.
"I don't give a fuck if you were lonely, Elena," he pulled me up and slapped me across the face. "I told you tonight was important to me and your tantrum interrupted a very big deal going down tonight."
I braced myself for another hit, but instead he leaned me against the wall, his hands reached beneath my dress, found my bare flesh and started stroking. A moan escaped my lips because my mind and my body always functioned on two separate wavelengths. My hips rocked against his hand as he inserted two fingers. "Ride it, pet," He said in a deep hushed whisper. "Ride it like the dirty whore you are."
Klaus was flush against me, holding me up against the tile while I rolled my hips, my hands clenched to his shoulder. Every time I tried to rest my head on his shoulder or hide the humiliation evident on my face, he'd cup my chin with his hand and force me to look him in the eyes.
"Cry for me," he demanded. Tears came on cue and I started whimpering.
He licked my tears, lavished in my pain. His tongue trailed to my neck, where he started sucking, biting. As he leaned in, I could feel his hardness against my stomach.
"Say it," he demanded. "Say it!"
I knew what he wanted. It was what he always wanted. My tears, my voice, my cries, he wanted me begging. Wanted me to need him so bad I wouldn't know how to function without him. In the recess of my mind, a part I liked to keep under lock and key, I knew it to be true. Before Klaus there was pain, and with Klaus there is pain. Maybe this is what I deserve.
"I...I want your cock," I panted, barely audible, my body searching for release, something more to rid the pain that coiled up in my core.
Suddenly, he let go, dropping me. His hand came up and again, slapped me hard across the face. "Never interrupt me again."
I couldn't leave it like this, if I did, I'd be in the cage. I crawled to him, reached up and tugged at his slacks. He kicked me out of the way.
"Please," I pleaded. He dragged me by the hair and pushed me to my knees. I sighed with relief, which I'm sure he interpreted differently.
I undid his pants and pulled out his length and like the trained pet I was, I sucked him the way he liked, allowing him to pull my hair and slam me against his length until I could feel his release slide down my throat. As soon as I swallowed, he pushed me away, tucked himself back in, and washed his hands.
"Clean yourself up and find me," he said, right before he left.
I got up and braced myself against the basin before looking in the mirror. I looked like a mess, like I was thoroughly fucked, not thoroughly fucked up. My neck sported the largest hickey he'd ever given me. Marking me. My hair was a tangle, and had traces of his come on it. Mascara was running down my flushed cheeks. This is what he wanted. This was my punishment, to go back out to that party looking like the whore I was.
I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to straitened it, and washed the mascara under my eyes. I picked up my purse that had fallen to the floor when we entered and searched it for concealer to cover up my hickey, but instead I saw something much worse. A flip phone. The agent must've slipped it in there before he left. From my years with Klaus, I knew this was a burner phone, untraceable. If Klaus saw this, I'd be dead. I looked at the stupid thing that might as well have been a bomb in my hands. I should toss it. I should. But instead, I created a rip in the lining of my metallic purse and tucked the phone beneath the fabric.
I took my lipstick and started reapplying it, knowing I was running out of time. I ignored the pain that shot through my abdomen when I started to walk toward the door, instead, I straitened my dress, and rolled my shoulders back, trying to find a level of confidence I knew I had somewhere, and walked out.
The party was still going on as if nothing had happened but the music seemed louder. People were dancing on a raised floor to the live band, swirling, laughing, some even kissing. The levity in their lives was a foreign concept, something I knew wasn't in the cards for me.
Klaus looked completely composed talking to Damon, as though nothing had happened. Foreign dignitaries and their wives walked up to Damon and Klaus. They shook hands, Klaus winked playfully at the wives before kissing them on the cheek. I stood and watched, embarrassed to walk over there with my hair askew and a hickey on my neck. Surely they'd know what happened, I reeked of sex. I ran my fingers through my hair and pulled it over my shoulder, trying to conceal Klaus's mark.
Klaus met my eyes and inclined for me to go to him. I could feel blush creep up my neck and cheeks as I tremulously walked over, suddenly finding it hard to wear heals. Oh god, could this night just be over?
"There you are, kitten."
I was surely beat red at this point.
I bowed my head, letting my hair cascade over part of my face, concealing any marks, and smiled nervously.
"My kitten can be such a shy one, come here, love."
I took one step to Klaus, avoiding Damon's eyes, which I could feel bore into me. Klaus pulled me the rest of the way, holding me against his chest, his arm firmly around my waist. The drape of my halter neckline made it easy for Klaus to snake his hand through the side of dress and stroke the flesh just beneath my breasts. He was doing this earlier, but this time we were in front of government officials from Eastern Europe and their wives, not people already on good terms with Klaus. Klaus didn't care, one of his greatest pleasures was messing with me. Humiliating me. That's why my cage is in the middle of his compound, so people have to walk by and look at Klaus's whore.
I refused to look up, refused to meet anyone's eye, but the moment Klaus noticed, his hand danced down to my sex. My chin immediately went up and my eyes shot forward, meeting everyone's eyes. Satisfied, his hand went back to the underside of my breasts, gently stroking. The wives looked scandalized and offended, which only humored Klaus. The men however, looked appreciatively on as my nipples hardened beneath Klaus's touch.
Damon was no longer looking in our direction, but talking privately with another dignitary Klaus was talking to earlier. I think he was from an Asian country, and from their rapport and Damon's ease with the language, I knew Damon must've known him well. All I know from that night six years ago, was that Damon went into the military. But what happened since then?
"That's a beautiful girl you have there," the Eastern European official commented in a thick accent. "Do you share? I'd make it worth your while."
His wife wasn't rattled by the suggestion at all, almost as though she expected it. Damon's head snapped toward the conversation, putting a halt to the conversation he was having. His hands squeezed into fists and flexed, veins bulging out of his wrists. Probably upset that Klaus was using me to distract from their deal.
"This one is very special to me," Klaus said, his hand lightly grazing my nipple, the other moving my hair off my shoulder, displaying his mark. He licked it, sealing the wound. I sighed, appreciatively, knowing it was easier to give in than to fight it. "She's mine and I'm not in the habit of sharing what's mine."
He wasn't just talking about me.
The official nodded, as though he understood the depth of Klaus's words. "Your friends in the White House will sign off on the trade agreement?"
Klaus chuckled mockingly. "Ivanov, haven't I taught you anything? Only commit illegal activity if you can find a way to do it legally."
Ivanov burst out laughing. "Mr. Mikaelson, I like the way you conduct business."
One of Klaus's guards got his attention. "If you'll excuse me, one of my guards would like a word," he said, letting go of me, and patting me on the ass before he left.
The wives of the officials dragged the men to the dance floor, leaving me alone with Damon. Damon didn't look at me, but my body awakened to his presence. He may not remember me, but my entire being certainly did. He stood next to me, brushing my shoulder with his. That simple touch stirred up something deep, a repressed feeling of longing and desire. "Do you enjoy being Klaus's girlfriend?" He muttered next to my ear.
That's what he thought this was? He was more naive than I thought. "Do you enjoy being his lackey?"
Damon let out an irritated sigh. "I don't work for him, I'm working with him."
"Klaus doesn't work with people, he owns people," I retorted. "You heard him, he doesn't like to share his toys, do you think that's limited to me, Ivanov, or the people in his employ?"
"You deserve better than him," he practically whispered.
If one looked on, it'd look as though Damon and I were strangers standing side by side, watching the party guests dance. They wouldn't see our shoulders brush and they wouldn't see Damon's hand touch mine, our fingers trying to find each other. Need consumed me. The desire to be held. The desire to be cherished.
But he didn't remember me. I was Klaus's girlfriend in his eyes.
"You don't know me," I said. "You don't know what I deserve."
Please, say you know me. Please say you remember.
He dropped my hand and stepped away from me, confirming my unasked question.
Klaus walked back with one of his guards, no more than eighteen. One of the new guys. "Elena," Klaus said. He seemed angry, but like he was trying to keep it together momentarily. "Come with me. Damon, why don't you join us."
Klaus took my hand, the same one Damon had touched moments earlier, and dragged me outside of the mansion, leading me to the edge of the property, near a forest of trees. A couple of his men had their guns pointed to a man on his knees in the grass. Someone was holding a flashlight, illuminating the man in front of us. A man in a cheap white dress shirt with blond hair, his hands bound behind his back.
Klaus positioned me in front of the man, an iron clad grip on my neck. One of the guards lifted up the man's head. I stifled a shocked cry. It was Matt Donovan, the FBI official. Terror ripped though me. This was it, this is the moment I die. "Is this the waiter that bumped into you? Is this the waiter you slapped?"
"I...I don't know," I said, feeling myself start to sob.
Klaus pushed me further, forcing me to look at Matt in the face. He looked terrified, his eyes pleading for help, someone who knew they were at the end of their line.
"You don't remember the man you slapped? The man who interrupted my meeting? Embarrassed me?" Klaus yelled.
Sobs escaped my lips. "I don't know, Klaus. I don't remember."
Klaus pushed me to my knees, so I was an exact parallel to Matt, both on our knees, both facing death. He threw a jacket in between us, and then threw Matt's badge on top of that.
"He's FBI, Elena," He shouted, venom in his voice. "What did he say to you?"
Think, Elena, think.
God, how was I going to get myself out of this?
Klaus already knows he's FBI, but he doesn't know that I knew.
"He tried to hit on me, so I slapped him," I say through cracked sobs. "I didn't know he was FBI. I thought he was one of Price's guys and I didn't want to interrupt the party. I'm sorry, Klaus."
Klaus took me by the back of the head and pushed me closer, so I was mere inches from Matt's face. "He didn't ask you to inform on me? Tell him all my secrets?"
Damon stepped forward. "Klaus, there's obviously been a misunderstanding. Elena wouldn't do that to you. When you stepped away, all she could talk about was how much she needed you," he said. "Honestly, she wouldn't shut up about how impressive you are. It was disgusting." He added.
Klaus let go of me. "Damon," he said. "Search her purse."
Fuck.
Damon took my purse and rifled through it, he paused for a fraction of a second, faltering. He quickly recovered and flipped the purse upside down, the contents spilling all over the grass. "Nothing here."
Klaus pulled me up, kissing me on the cheek. "I knew you were loyal," he muttered approvingly. Then, he put a gun in my hands. "Kill the man that touched what's mine. Kill the fool that tried to take what's mine."
"What?" I cried. "Klaus, I can't. Maybe we can flip him," I pleaded. "Maybe we can get him on our side to be a double agent. We can't waste an opportunity like this. He'd be indebted to you."
With my words, Matt nodded, and I knew that he really would be a double agent. He didn't want to die. "Please," he cried. "I have a family. I'll get you anything you need. Any information you want."
Klaus put his hands on my shoulders and leaned down. "Kill him, Elena. Kill him or I'll put you in the cage. Kill him or I may think you knew he was FBI and I'll kill both of you."
My hands shook as I raised the weapon. Tears falling freely from my face. I looked at Matt's face, the terror in his eyes. He was begging. "Please," he said between sobs. "Please. My wife. My kids."
I shook my head. I can't do this. I can't do this.
I let the weapon drop from my fingers and fall to the grass.
A gun shot rang through the air and hit Matt in the skull. He fell to the ground with a sickening thud.
"Damon," Klaus admonished. "I wanted Elena to do it."
Damon killed him. The boy that held me in my arms truly was gone, corrupted by power and greed.
Damon shrugged. "I was getting bored. Are we done? Can we get back to the party? There was a lovely model who promised to show me her hidden tattoo."
Klaus chuckled and clapped Damon on the shoulder. "Now, I wouldn't want to keep you from that."
I stood there, still looking at the dead body on the grass. I'd seen men killed before, but this was the first time I felt responsible. I felt like I pulled the trigger.
"Elena," Klaus called. "Come."
The blond hair was stained with blood. There were grass stains on his back, probably from when they grabbed him. Did he try to fight? When he approached me, did he know he was as good as dead? Did he care? Klaus's guards started to drag the body away, cleaning up the inconvenient mess I made.
My fault. It was my fault.
Klaus wrapped his arm around my shoulder and steered me away from Matt's dead body. He leaned into my ear. "Don't worry, kitten. I won't put you in the cage. I'm proud of you, you saw him for what he really was. I wouldn't have caught him if it wasn't for you."
"Then why did you want me to kill him?" I asked. "Why did you threaten me?"
"I was giving you a gift. I wanted you to understand what it's like to take someone's life. It's an incredible feeling and I knew you might need motivation to kill."
He was wrong. I don't need motivation to kill, because one day, I was going to kill Klaus and I don't even care if I die doing it.
