Ten years later…

"Here we are," Alaric Saltzman called, managing to brake the car to a smooth stop near the private elevator beneath the building of Salvatore Corporate. "Home sweet home."

"Finally home," Damon said as he glanced up from the report he was reading before putting the paper back in his briefcase. God, he was tired. It had been a long and dreary flight from Miami but he was glad to be back in Washington DC. It had been a long week.

"You should go home and take a shower," Alaric opened the car door and Damon slid out. "You look awful, you know," he said with a wry grin.

"You don't think I know that?" Damon scowled. "I have a meeting at two and I have to attend the opera's benefit ball tonight."

"I don't envy your job at all," he chuckled. "You want to know why the last five years have been the happiest of my life? Because I have a life. Because I have two little girls that I absolutely love, a job that I actually earned, and a wife that makes me feels so lucky to be alive."

"Well, thanks for making me jealous.' Damon smirked.

Alaric had been working for the Salvatore Corporate for almost ten years. He was also as loyal as he was daring, and ten years ago those traits had caused him to risk his life dragging Giuseppe Salvatore to safety when two men had tried to kidnap him by ambushing his limousine after he left the building. For his efforts, Alaric had received a case of his favourite bourbon along with the Salvatore family's unending gratitude. Strapped over Alaric's shoulder, beneath his jacket, was a .45 automatic that he'd bought years ago after the kidnap attempt. Damon privately thought the gun was unnecessary.

Alaric was tall, about 6'2 in height, with an athletic build. He can be described as a handsome man with short, brown hair that was gelled on the top and had blue eyes. He often wore casual clothing, t-shirts, button downs, jackets and jeans. Damon always thought Alaric was better suited to the job of professor than bodyguard/chauffeur.

"When are you going to finally settle down?" Alaric asked him.

"You know me, I don't want a lady coming into my life and messing with a good thing," Damon said. He had his typical smirk on his face but there was no real meaning behind his words. He was thinking being single wasn't as great as it had once been. There were many nights when he was lying in his king-sized bed he thought it would be pretty great to share it with someone. In fact, he still felt like that every time he saw his little brother Stefan and his fiancée Valerie together, or his friends, Enzo and Bonnie, and Wes and Nadia. Even Alaric was happily married to Isobel, and together they had a pair of twin three years ago, Damon couldn't deny the fact that he envied them.

He was very happy for all of them because every one of them deserved to be happy—but it wasn't easy not to feel lost, not to mention a little odd, when he was around them. He just didn't roll that way, and he kept his emotions in check. He'd been conditioned to keep a grip on himself since he was a child, and he'd learned to keep a handle on himself throughout his career. It was too vital for him to stay cool and detached. Letting his emotions rule him would have meant mistakes, and he'd rarely made errors when he was in business.

He shook off his melancholy mood and crossed to the private elevator. It made only one stop – on the twentieth floor, the office of the Salvatore Corporate.

Damon had taken over the role of Giuseppe as the president of Salvatore Corporate ten years ago when Giuseppe was diagnosed with lymphoma. Giuseppe had done a brilliant job with the company. Until now, he still could not believe that after having worked so hard to take the company to another level that he had to retire in such an early age because of his health. Damon, being the eldest son, had decided to step up. Salvatore Corporate wasn't just a business. It had required vision and sweat to bring it to life. It was the result of a lot of carefully calculated risks and farsighted strategy. It had heart. It had struggled and fought and survived in a jungle where other businesses, large and small, got eaten alive. Damon couldn't let his father down and he didn't. When it came to business, Damon knew exactly what he was doing. Stefan on the other hand, hadn't shown much interest in Salvatore Corporate. Damon went toe-to-toe with Giuseppe more than once over that issue. He warned his father that he would not permit his brother to be coerced into turning the company into a family dynasty. Damon wanted Stefan to feel free to choose his own paths in life, and he did. Now Stefan was a successful physician working in Washington.

The elevator whisked him silently to the building's top floor and opened its door on Liv's office, the private entrance allowing him to avoid the public reception area and the many offices of the company's various departments. As always, Liv was already seated behind her desk, guarding the door to his office, welcoming him with a pleasant smile when he walked out of the elevator.

"Welcome back, Mr Salvatore." Liv was an attractive, groomed, blonde young woman in her twenties. She had been working for Damon for almost three years now and she had been an ideal personal assistant from the very first day she had arrived at his office. He had never regretted his decision of employing her. Within a week, he had realized that like him, Liv Parker could work at a ceaseless, killing pace without ever wearing out or wearing down. The more responsibility he gave her, the more she accomplished. In fact, she was a nearly indispensable asset to his business life.

"Good to be back, Liv." He gave her a nod and a smile before heading straight for his office. "Is the agenda ready for the meeting?"

"Of course," she replied, matching his brisk manner perfectly.

He opened the door then paused. "And let Enzo know I'm back."

"Right away." She reached for the intercom.

Without waiting, Damon entered his office and automatically closed the door behind him, then crossed the bleached wood floor to his desk. He glanced briefly at the stack of phone messages and letters waiting for his attention on the desk before settling down on his leather chair.

There was a quick rap on his door following by the click of the latch. Damon looked up expecting to see Enzo walk in. But it was Liv, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. "I knew I had missed something. Nobody makes coffee as good as you do, Liv."

"You are only saying that to make sure I don't go on strike and refuse to make coffee for you anymore." She crossed the room and set the cup on his desk beaming at his praise. Besides being an excellent personal assistant, Liv was like a sister. He had hoped to have a little sister when he was younger but Giuseppe had never married after his wife died.

"The coffee on the plane is terrible," he said as he took a sip of the coffee from the cup.

"You should get yourself a wife. Ask her to make you nice coffee every day."

"What can I do? I keep asking and you keep turning me down." He winked at her.

"You are impossible." She pretended to be angry with him. "It's time you get married. You not only don't have a wife, but you don't have any children either."

Enzo strolled into the office with a smile on his face. "At least, none that you know about, Liv."

She turned. "If he had any, I'd know. Everyone would, because you bet the mother would file a paternity suit."

"If it's a child you want, Damon, Bonnie and I will loan you one of ours. You can take your pick. Right now I think Bonnie would willingly give all two of them away. It was a bad weekend at home."

Damon straightened from his desk. "Can you let the others know that I will be in the meeting in ten minutes?"

"Sure." Easily Liv slipped back into the role of the efficient personal assistant and left his office.

Enzo watched her left, then turned back to Damon, grinned and shook his head in amusement. "She never gives up, does she?"

"Not Liv."

Enzo wandered over to the desk and sat down in the chair that faced it. "Did you get everything worked out in Miami to your satisfaction?"

Damon smiled crookedly. "Let's say I got everything worked out. Whether it will be to my satisfaction remains to be seen. The Miami project will be our most ambitious project to date." When completed, it would a year-round resort complex, with a palatial hotel and gambling casino adjacent to the marina and yacht club with a luxury chalet-style condominium. By the time the development was completed and in operation two years from now, the profit from it would be in the hundreds of millions.

"Well, you have pulled another rabbit out of the hat with your typical Damon Salvatore style." Enzo smiled. "By the way, you are going to the opera's benefit ball, aren't you?

Damon sighed. "Ben and Andie have insisted I should go." He took another sip of the coffee. "Actually, I would prefer to have a nice quiet night."

X x x

Refreshed from a sauna and shower, Damon wrapped a towel around his waist and reached for the wristwatch lying on the black marble vanity that swept around his circular bathroom. The telephone rang, and he picked it up.

"Are you naked?" Andie Starr's sultry voice asked before he'd said a word.

"What number are you calling?" he said with feigned confusion.

"Yours, darling. Are you naked?"

"Semi-naked," Damon said, "and running late."

"I'm so glad you're finally back in Washington. When did you get in?"

"This afternoon."

"I have you in my clutches at last!" She laughed an enticing, contagious laugh. "You can't believe the fantasies I've been having, thinking about tonight when we get back from the opera's benefit ball. I've missed you, Damon," she added, blunt and direct as always.

"We're going to see each other in an hour," Damon promised, "if you let me get off the phone, that is."

"All right. I was so afraid you'd forget about the opera benefit tonight."

"Of course not," he said. "How could I? Operas make me comatose," Damon joked, and Andie chuckled in agreement. In the past several years Damon had attended dozens of operas and symphonies because he moved in a social stratum where sponsorship of, and attendance at, cultural functions was necessary from a business standpoint. Now that he was unwillingly familiar with most famous symphonies and operas, his original opinion of them hadn't changed. He found most of them boring as hell and all of them overlong. He met Ben Starr - Andie's father who was one of the big bankers in Washington DC a year ago. Unlike many of the dilettante socialites Damon had met, Ben was a tough, blunt, down-to-earth businessman, and Damon liked him immensely. In fact, if he could choose a father-in-law, Ben would have been his choice. Andie was much like her father— sophisticated and polished but direct as hell when it came to getting what she wanted. They had both wanted him to accompany them to the opera benefit tonight, and they wouldn't take no for an answer. He'd ended up not only agreeing to attend, but agreeing to contribute some money as well.

Two months ago, when Andie had blatantly hinting that they ought to get married, Damon had briefly entertained the idea, but the impulse had passed very quickly. He enjoyed Andie in bed and out of it, and he liked her style, but she was not the one he would consider spending the rest of his life with because he had never been able to duplicate the feelings he'd had for Elena—that violent, possessive, insane need to see and touch and laugh with her, that volcanic passion that controlled him and couldn't be sated.

What had happened between them was so long ago, but somehow Damon just couldn't forget about the night they spent together. That night had been a life-changing event for him. Never again would he be able to settle for just any woman in his bed. He wasn't sure whether to be completely pissed off or in awe of the woman who made him feel this way. Sure, he had had quite a few women all these years. But none of them made him feel this way, except Elena. And every time he thought back about that night, it was a torture. Her taste. Her smile. Her moans. Her absolutely beautiful nude body. Her cries as she came for him, her flesh tightening around him until he found release. He had wanted to claim her then; now, ten years later, the desire was a damn obsession.

Three years ago, Damon had cringed when he heard from Rebekah Mikaelson that Elena was seeing her brother Elijah. Jealousy nearly ate him alive, knowing another man was touching her. But he had coped with it by working and seeing other women; he hoped that eventually that niggling fear that she had end up permanently taken by another man would pass.

It hadn't. His craze to possess her had just gotten stronger, deeper. When he heard that her engagement had blown up six months ago, he couldn't be happier. What had actually gone wrong? He wondered. Elijah Mikaelson would be considered one of the most eligible bachelors in Richmond. Damon had been friends with the Mikaelsons for as long as he could remember. Elijah was a very attractive, positive, quirky and upbeat person. He always tried to see the good in people and tried to be a friend to everyone. He lived by a code of honour and morality that had been with him since he was a child. No women would ever turn down on him. Elena was obviously the exception.

Sometimes Damon did wonder what would happen if Elena didn't leave that night. Would they be together? They would talk. There were so many questions to be answered. When he had realized she had given him her most sacred gift that night, he was overwhelmed. Why didn't she tell him she was still a virgin? He even considered going back to Mystic Falls to look for her because he seriously believed that there was something special going on between the two of them. But one could never predict about life. Giuseppe turned out to have lymphoma and had to start chemotherapy straightaway. He couldn't just walk away from his father and most important of all, Salvatore Corporate.

Maybe it hadn't been right for the two of them. Maybe it would never be right for them. Pushing the thoughts away, Damon shrugged into his black tuxedo jacket and headed to the front door of his apartment.

x x x

As the limousine pulled away from the curb, Damon gazed at the mist swirling outside the tinted windows. He was glad he could slip away from the ball early. Those balls were so tiring.

A soft sigh was followed by a stir of movement next to him as Andie settled back against the seat. "I'm glad we are finally alone, Damon." She reached for his hand, sliding her palm over his and lacing their fingers together. "I have missed you."

"I thought you would be upset when I suggested leaving early." He sent her an amused look. "I always thought that you love all those functions."

"No, not really." She poked at his arm in playful punishment. "I prefer to stay in bed with you."

"That I know." He smirked as he gazed over at her.

"You are a devil, Damon Salvatore," she murmured softly before leaning closer to brush her lips over his. "Do you think you can ask your chauffeur to drive faster?"

An hour later, Damon stood beside the king-sized bed in his apartment and wrapped himself in a white terry cloth robe. Outside the rain came down in sheets. Lightning flashed, drawing his glance to the rain-coated window. Andie walked into the room with two glasses of champagne in each hand.

"Champagne. What's the occasion?" he said, talking the glass she handed him.

"Darling, do we need special occasion for champagne? It's always special when we are together." She smiled sweetly and touched the rim of her glass to his.

"Get to the point, Andie." He took a sip of the champagne from his glass. "You know what I like about you. Direct. No bullshit."

Andie stood there, not moving, studying him with deepening intensity. "Why haven't you ever married?"

"Let's discuss that some other time."

"I tried the last two times we were together, but you evaded it."

Annoyed with her obstinacy, her topic, and her timing, Damon put his glass on the side table next to the bed as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "I gather," he told her, "that you intend to discuss it here and now."

"I do," she said, meeting his gaze, chin proudly high.

"What's on your mind?"

"Marriage."

He paused and Andie saw the sudden chill in his eyes, but what he said was even more cutting than his expression: "To whom?"

Stung by his deliberate insult and furious with her tactical blunder in trying to force his hand, she glared at his implacable expression. "I suppose you never intend to marry me, do you?" she asked.

"Andie, look…" Damon stood up and walked toward her. Andie wasn't likely to let the issue of marriage drop. If she didn't, he was either going to have to make it clear that was permanently out of the question, or he would have to put an end to their very delightful relationship.

"At least we know where we stand—for now." She smiled a little. "Do you ever love me?"

Damon said nothing. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Do you really want to continue this conversation?"

With a sigh Andie picked up her coat from the bed. "You are the hardest man I've ever met!" she told him bluntly. Trying to inject some levity into the moment, she sent him a seductive glance and added truthfully, "Physically, as well as emotionally, of course."

After a moment of tense silence, he said, "I will drive you home."

"No, Damon," she said quietly, "I can call a cab."

He didn't attempt to stop her leaving. He knew Andie was upset. Their relationship was over. Starting from this moment.

"You need to figure out what your heart wants, Damon," Andie paused at the doorway. "I want you to be happy." Then she walked out and closed the door behind her.

Damon walked over to the far corner of the apartment and up to the raised platform that contained a bar and several sofas comfortably arranged for conversation. He had chosen this building, and this apartment, because all the outer walls were broad expanses of curved glass that offered a breathtaking view of the Washington DC skyline. For a moment, he stood looking out, then he walked over to the bar, intending to have a bourbon. As he did so, his robe brushed against the newspaper that his housekeeper had left neatly folded on an end table, and the newspaper flipped onto the floor, a letter spilled out.

He bent over to pick it up. It was an invitation card. He was invited to attend Mystic Falls 150th Founders' Party and Heritage Display. The Salvatore family was one of the main Founding families in Mystic Falls. Giuseppe had attended some of the Founders' functions in the past but since they had moved to Washington, the Salvatore family had hardly turned up in those functions.

His gaze shifted to the words at the bottom of the card and for a split second he tensed with surprise. Elena Gilbert had kindly donated some paintings from her art gallery for auction.

A smirk amusement twisted Damon's lips as he read the invitation card again. He had heard that Elena had stayed in Mystic Falls, taking over her mother's art gallery after Grayson and Miranda Gilbert died tragically after their car went over Wickery Bridge nine years ago. He was surprised she didn't pursue her dream of becoming a doctor. Instead she took a major in arts at University of Virginia and then took over the art gallery after she graduated.

They would be bound to encounter each other if he decided to turn up at the Founders' Party. And she had broken off with Elijah. She was available now. No more boyfriend. No more fiancé. That made her totally irresistible. That made this invitation totally irresistible. It was beyond time for him to make his move.

Mine.

Determinedly, he reached for the phone and called Liv.

"Liv, cancel all my appointments in the next two weeks. Ask Enzo to deal with the important ones if necessary. I need two weeks off."

"What!?" Liv was stunned. "What's going on?"

"I need two weeks off," he answered.

"But you never take any leave."

"Things change, Liv. I need those two weeks off," he smiled before continuing. "And can you send some flowers to this address?"