"Alaric?" I gasped.

Alaric Saltzman was Damon's right-hand man. His confidant. And now here he was, in his flashy viper grinning at me through the passenger side window. Damn. Damon probably sent him to be on my ass or be my bodyguard or something. I was so screwed. In fact, he was probably out here just to drag me back to hell.

"Miss Davenport," he continued smiling.

"Bennett," I said immediately, "and I was just taking a walk," I finished lamely.

"A walk? At night? After you climbed out of your window?" He said disbelievingly.

"The proper term is 'scaled.' And since I'm the mistress I think that I have the ability to wander the grounds whenever I want." I watched as Alaric quirked his brow and cocked his head to the side before answering.

"You honestly expect me to believe that?"

"Well, no. Not really," I sighed. "Fine," I said as I opened the door to his car and climbed in. "Take me back to hell."

"Actually, I thought that I was supposed to be escorting you to Meredith's."

What the hell?

"You're Meredith's friend?" I all but yelled as Alaric pulled away from the curb and down the street.

"I'd like to think of myself more as her fiancée, but yeah, I'm supposed to be escorting you tonight, Miss Bennett. "

"Call me Bonnie. But wait, aren't you Damon's friend? Like his BEST friend? Why are you plotting with Meredith to take him down?"

Alaric was silent for a moment. The pensive look on his face spoke all the words that his mouth didn't. He was Damon's friend, but the life that came with be linked to him was less than stellar. Bad things happen when you're associated with someone by the last name, 'Salvatore.'

"He killed my wife a couple of years back," he said, startling me out of my reverie.

"He did what?" I gasped. I had always known that Damon was a coldblooded killer, but to think that he killed his friend's wife… was inexplicable.

"My wife, Isobel, she was tied with some bad decisions in the past. Unfortunately, those bad decisions caught up with her… and they came back to her with a vengeance. Isobel was hooked on drugs, she found a guy that knew a guy who knew the Salvatores and… lets just say; things spiraled out of control. One night I came home and saw Damon standing over her cold, dead body and he told me that if I didn't help repay my wife's debt, then I would suffer the same fate as her."

Alaric had my full attention. So many terrible things had happened to this man because of the Salvatores, so we could relate to one another. The Salvatores do nothing but take and destroy and it doesn't matter who they hurt in the process. I knew that they were capable of such heinous acts, but when I hear about other peoples' misfortunes when it comes to them, it makes what I have to do seem more important. When I kill Giuseppe Salvatore, everyone's pain will end with him. Anyone who gets in my way will pay dearly.

"So, how did you and Meredith meet?"

He chuckled when I mentioned her name; a loving chuckle that you get when you're thinking of the one you love. I remember my mother and father had that kind of relationship. It's a vague memory, but a memory nonetheless. Then he became power hungry and destroyed our family. My mother had to suffer for his misdeeds, because she loved him.

"We met at a bar. Got completely trashed. Hooked up in her apartment. The next morning I woke up and stumbled upon her 'secret room'," he air quoted, "and she knocked me out."

"Sounds like Meredith."

"Yeah, then she tied me to a chair and questioned me like a criminal and I told her that I wanted to help take the Salvatores down. Now here we are."

"Not your typical love story," I murmured.

"But a love story, nonetheless," he countered, "We're here."

I looked up at the studio apartment in front of me. As far as I knew, Meredith was only one of a few tenants (not very many people were able to afford a place like this in Mystic Falls). Alaric and I stepped out of the car and made our way to the elevator and were carried to the eleventh floor. Before I could even raise my hand to knock at the door, the door was thrust open by the woman-in-question. Meredith Sulez—Fell—Saltzman? I can never remember.

"You're late," were her only words.

"Hello to you too," I said sarcastically as I stalked into the main area of the room, leaving the two lovebirds in the entryway of the apartment. "So, where are these 'goodies' that I've been hearing about?" I chuckled, as she had to physically wrench herself away from her fiancée and stalked towards her secret wall that sat behind her bar. She tilted the fake bottle of Smirnoff backwards and encoded the password under the hidden keypad. The wall elevated with one fell 'swoosh' and the weapons were exposed to our view. The guns came in various sizes. Big, small, medium, you name it. For a split second, I felt like Colombiana. A badass.

"So, I take it you like them?" Meredith said as I looked at the guns like a child in a candy story.

"Very much," I answered as I looked back at her, "my only question is how I get these back to the manor without being seen. Hell, I'm not even supposed to be seen."

"I'll take them back," Alaric offered.

"How? The Salvatores aren't supposed to know that she's gone," Meredith asked.

"I was supposed to be meeting with the Salvatores weapons expert in about an hour. I can show them all of those, while I give all of these to Bonnie," he explained.

"Good plan," she said.

"Seems plausible," I interjected.

"Deal. So Bonnie," Meredith addressed me, "I managed to hack the Salvatores mainframe and I know about their dealings that are supposed to go down in the next several months."

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Kill them."

True to his word, Alaric brought me back to the manor safe and sound. The effects of the experimental drug that I spiked Damon with had begun to wear off once we got back and no one noticed a thing. I stalked back to my room with the stealth of a panther and began stripping my 'work' clothes from my body.

Just as I put a towel around my body, a knock came at the door, followed by Damon soon after. I didn't flinch when I felt him standing behind me with his cool breath on my neck, though I realize that he was attempting to go for the intimidation factor.

"What do you want?" I asked without turning around to address him.

"Answers…" he said as he moved around my body and to my bed. Rolling my eyes when his boots came in contact with my sheets, I moved towards him in order to remove his feet.

"If you want answers, Mr. Salvatore, then Google them," I said as I shoved his feet off of my bed and made my way towards my vanity.

"See, that's the problem, I don't think that Google will have the answers to this question."

"Mr. Salvatore, it's Google. Google has everything that you could possibly know or want to know," I responded to him as I looked at his reflection in my vanity's mirror.

"See, I seem to think that you slipped something in my drink, because last I checked, I was having a conversation with you then the next thing I know, I'm waking up in the living room."

Frustrated with his very presence, I swirled around in my chair and faced him head on. "And that's my problem… how? It's not my fault that you're a total drunk and black out during conversations."

"What?"

"Check your drink, Mr. Salvatore, you'll find nothing in them. And for the record, if I wanted to hurt you, I would have already done it. Now leave. I'm done talking to you."

"So you admit that you'd hurt me?" he asked incredulously.

"It's no secret. You've stripped me from my life and everything that I've known for some stupid mafia type reason that I'm apparently too stupid to understand. I hate you Mr. Salvatore. I may be called your mistress, but there's no way in hell that I'm going to give you the satisfaction of touching me," I hissed.

"It's your duty to me, to be mine. And Miss Davenport, you are missing the most important part of that little tirade. You said, 'your mistress.' Your, as in mine. You're mine, Miss Bonnie, and I'll touch you whenever I please," Damon threatened as he approached me. Damon stood at six feet even as opposed to my five -foot –five. If he was trying to go for the intimidation factor, then he was going to be sorely disappointed when he discovers that he has failed.

"Touch me, Mr. Salvatore, and Stefan will become an only child," I seethed.

Just as Damon was about to open his mouth, his cellphone went off and he answered it. By the time I turned back to my vanity and fixed my hair into a bun, Damon was finished with his conversation.

"I have to go. I have some things to deal with that need my immediate attention."

"And I care because? If you were to go out and manage to screw up this 'mission' or whatever, and die; I wouldn't bat an eyelash."

After everything that we've been through, after all of the words that we've exchanged with one another, what I just said seemed to affect him the most.

When I looked at him, he looked at me with a blank expression; almost as if he couldn't believe that I could utter such harsh words to him. To be honest, I didn't think that I could be so vile and somewhere in my mind, and in my heart, I felt terrible for what I said. No one deserves to be wished that. The irony of the matter is that, after I kill all of their associates, I will be gunning for Damon and the rest of the Salvatores (except maybe Stefan and Elena) and I will end them.

"I have to go. Things to do, people to kill, you know, what I'm good at. And maybe, if by chance, things don't go my way and I end up dead, you can be free like you so desperately hope for." With that, he stalked towards my door and opened it, but before he left, he turned around.

"Oh, and if you only see yourself as a prisoner, I'm going to start treating you like one." Before I had the chance to ask him what he meant by that, the door was shut and I heard a click. Instinctively, I ran to the door and tried to open it to no avail. That son of a bitch locked the door. Angry, I started pounding on the door.

"Damon! Open this door right now or I swear I'll—"

"—You'll what? Last I checked, you were a prisoner and prisoners don't have any hearsay."

"I swear to God, Damon! If you don't open this door, I will make you pay!" I shouted.

"Sorry, I can't hear you through the door."

"Listen hear you son of a bitch! I won't allow you to lock me up because you're mentally deranged!" I yelled as I kept pounding.

"Yeah, but I'm the mentally deranged son of a bitch with a key," I heard him chuckle and heard the footsteps walk down the hallway.

He wasn't coming back.

Damn…

Damon S.

I chuckled as I walked away from the locked door with a smile on my face. The image of Bonnie's angry face had a smile come to my face. She was probably cursing me to the fiery pits of Hades. No matter… I wanted her and I had her. When I first saw Bonnie all those years ago at her mother's funeral, I knew that I had to have her. An eleven-year-old brain was not wise to the ways of sex yet, but I knew that I had these feelings for her. The sad look on her nine-year-old face had my heart twisting and turning in ways that I didn't understand. Bonnie didn't know this, but we were betrothed to one another from such a young age. Because we were betrothed, meant that our families were bound together and the fact that we were Catholic helped this 'union.' Being Catholic meant that we didn't believe in divorce. Once we were married, nothing could break us apart. Nothing but death.

A/N: How did you guys like that turn of events? And Damon actually liking Bonnie from a young age? Or what about Bonnie's plot to destroy them all? Questions, questions, questions…