Zach studied the memo Phil Carter had just handed him, which showed a continuing and dramatic increase in the number of shares of Salvatore Industries' stock being bought up on the stock exchange. "What do you make of it?" he asked the attorney, frowning.

"I hate to tell you this," Phil said, "but I did some checking today, and there are whispers on Wall Street that someone wants to take us over."

Zach made a physical effort to look calm and collected, but inwardly he was reeling from the thought of a takeover attempt. "Not now. It wouldn't make any sense. Why would another corporate, decide to take us over at a time like this, when we are in debt up to our ears for all our expansion costs?"

"For one thing, because we couldn't afford to fight off an attempt right now—we don't have the money to put up a long, serious battle."

Zach already knew that, but he still shook his head and said, "It wouldn't make sense to go after us now. All they would get by acquiring us is a lot of debts they would have to pay off." But he and Phil both knew that as a long-range investment, Salvatore Industries could be a very attractive acquisition. "How long before you will know the names of whoever is buying our stock?"

"Another few weeks before we get notification from all the stockbrokers who handle the individual transactions, but we are only notified if the new shareholder actually takes custody of the stock certificates. If the certificates stay in the brokers' custody, we are never notified of the shareholder's identity."

"Can you put together an updated list of new shareholders whose names we do know?"

"Sure thing," he said, and turned, leaving Zach alone in the office with Sarah. He turned to her. "I want you to run a thorough investigation on Damon Salvatore and get me every scrap of information on him that you can find."

"It would help if I knew what sort of information you are looking for," Sarah said.

"For starters, I want to know the names of every single company he owns a major share in, and every single name he does business under. I want to know everything you can find out about his personal financial setup, where he keeps his money, and under what names. I want names. He will have trusts set up and shelters—get me names."

Sarah already knew what he intended to do with those names—he was going to start looking for those names on the list of new stockholders that Phil was getting together.

"Sarah," he said to his daughter, "you work with Phil. I don't want anyone else involved in this hunt for information, because we need to find out what Damon Salvatore is doing before we can take the next step."

"You are certain Damon Salvatore is the one who is buying our shares?"

His lip curled with contempt. "What he wants is revenge against me! He is trying to destroy everything I have built, everything I have but I'm not going to let him do that. I will do anything, anything to stop him. I mean that."

x x x

Sarah closed the door of her bedroom and took out her phone from her bag. She hit the familiar code and Mason Lockwood picked up halfway through the first ring.

"Did he suspect anything?" he demanded.

"No," she said. "He thinks Damon Salvatore is behind the takeover. We did try to buy that land, but in the midst of the negotiations, someone else bought it. Intercorp bought it."

Mason whistled softly. "In retaliation against him – because of what he did to Giuseppe."

"Intercorp bought it for ten million and upped the price to thirty million. We can't afford it."

"And Salvatore Industries can't borrow anymore because you have borrowed up to the teeth right now for all your expansion costs."

There was a short pause before Sarah continued, "If the stock keeps on climbing, it will cost us more to get it."

"Huh." Mason was silent for a beat. "Do you think there is another player in the game?"

"I want Salvatore Industries but we don't have the kind of money right now to buy the stock if it keeps on climbing. God," she finished miserably, "if Salvatore Industries were to become nothing but a division of some big corporate conglomerate, I couldn't bear it."

"We will try our best, darling," Mason reassured her. "I will get Salvatore Industries for you."

"Salvatore Industries was my inheritance. For years I have been telling myself he loved me, but he just didn't know how to show it. The truth is I actually mean very little to him," she said bitterly. "He holds a grudge against me because of my mother."

Sarah had never known her mother Crystal, but she had been told a great deal about her during her youth. Crystal Savaltore had been a model. Her marriage with Zach Salvatore lasted two years—long enough for Crystal to get pregnant, have her baby, have a sleazy affair with a chauffeur, and then go running off to Europe with a phony Italian model. Zach said her mother was a self-centred slut without the slightest conception of marital fidelity or maternal responsibility.

Sarah had been dutifully raised and dutifully educated by Zach. She had been instructed in the duties and responsibilities that were expected of a Salvatore. And she had never been allowed to forget for one moment about the scandalous affair of her mother. Zach had set out to ensure that the bad blood the girl had inherited from her mother was not allowed to surface.

As for Sarah, she knew now that she had wasted most of her youth trying to satisfy a father who viewed even the smallest of failures as evidence that Crystal's genes had not been successfully stamped out.

"He knows how important Salvatore Industries is to me, and I also knew that when he found us together, he would pull out every stop to dissuade me from staying with you." Sarah leaned her damp palm against the desk, her voice anguished. "I figured that sooner or later he will make me choose: you or him or nothing, if I choose you. I decided to keep buying up our stock so that he couldn't do that. I was prepared to buy however much stock it would take to gain control of the board of directors so that he couldn't threaten me with the loss of the CEO position, because I would control the board."

"I'm not letting you marry that banker," Mason said, his voice harsh. "You don't love Brian Walker. Zach wants you to marry him so that Brian can help with the loans. He is selfish. He doesn't love you, not enough to want you to be happy."

"I'm not going to let him tear me apart," Sarah said. "He forced me to choose and I have made my choice."

x x x

Although it was nearly seven-thirty, several of Intercorp's executives were working late, and Damon could hear them moving around outside his office door. He still had another hour's work, and he wanted to call Elena, but from his house, where he could talk to her at leisure. He had left Mystic Falls three days ago and his trip to Richmond was a complete success. He had come back to Intercorp as soon as he reached LA. Elena had taken two weeks off to stay with Jenna and Logan. Damon had missed her badly. He had talked to her less than twenty-four hours ago and he was already looking forward to talking to her again. The fact that he reminded himself of an infatuated teenager was amusing to him, rather than disturbing.

He had just signed his name on the bottom line when Enzo walked into his office. "You are here!" Enzo burst out, closing Damon's door. "Thank God!"

"I'm here," Damon agreed with a wry smile and watched Enzo walk restlessly over to the bar. "But if you have to thank something for that fact, then thank the preparer of this contract, because it has taken me nearly an hour to wade through it."

Enzo stared blankly at him as he splashed bourbon into a glass. "Oh, that is a joke, right?"

"Evidently not a good one," Damon replied dryly, tossing his pen aside. "Now, what is wrong?"

Enzo took two deep swallows of the bourbon "You work too damn hard, Damon. Your trip to Richmond was a complete success. But you came straight back here to work. You deserve to have a break."

"You will be notified if I need some time off." Damon studied him closely. "Now, tell me, what has driven you to drink?"

Enzo finished his drink in two more gulps. Gesturing toward the computer on Damon's desk, he said, "May I?"

Damon nodded and Enzo walked over to his desk. He typed on the keyboard and the screen lit up with the heading:

SALVATORE INDUSTRIES IN FINANCIAL CRISIS?

"Look at this." Enzo pointed to the heading on the screen. "I found out this on the Mystic Falls Daily this morning. An anonymous caller told the media that Salvatore Industries has expanded so quickly that the debt level is very high. The caller even told the media that a few of their recent investments are losing money."

"What are you trying to say?" Damon said, frowning.

"I think someone is forcing Salvatore Industries' stock to drop."

Frustrated, Damon leaned back on his chair. "Are you trying to tell me there is another player in the game? Someone else actually wants to take them over as well?"

Enzo exhaled slowly. "I thought that too before, but why? They are a lousy investment right now unless you have a personal reason like yours."

"Enzo," Damon warned, "keep your face out of my personal business."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"Fine," Damon interrupted. "Get busy checking out the rumours, find out if there really is another player, and if there is one, find out who the hell it is."

"Sure." Enzo hesitated. "The value of their stock has already dropped significantly. Now, the question is, who would want to cause that to happen and why?"

"I don't know," Damon said, striving to keep the frustration out of his voice. "I think someone—other than myself —has been planning to try to take them over. Whoever that is has been quietly buying up their shares. When I got into the game and started buying, too, I drove the price of Salvatore Industries' shares up. Presumably, there's a predator company out there, other than mine, who decided to either scare me off with the uproar over Salvatore Industries' financial crisis, or they are simply trying to drive down the price of the shares so they could grab them cheaper."

"Do you have any idea who that company could be?"

"None whatsoever. Whoever it is wants Salvatore Industries so badly that they aren't thinking straight. The corporation is in debt and Salvatore Industries is a bad buy for the short-term gain."

"Obviously, you don't care about that."

"I'm not in it for profit," Damon replied.

With characteristic bluntness Enzo said, "You are a logical and practical businessman. Is it really worth your money to buy over the company?" When his question was answered with a quelling stare and total silence, Enzo lifted his hands. "As your friend, I want you to think carefully about your decision this time."

"My original motive was revenge against Zach Salvatore," Damon said when his desire for privacy lost out to his greater desire to get this solved. "But I have changed my mind now."

"You have changed your mind?"

"Salvatore Industries is a family business. I won't let anyone take over the company."

Enzo smiled at him. "You still treat him as a family, uh?"

Damon glared at him. "No. He is not my family. My grandfather started the business and I know how important the company was to my father when he was alive."

"Is there anyone else—with a great deal of money— who might also want revenge against Zach Salvatore?"

"How the hell should I know?" Damon said, getting up and beginning to pace. "He is an arrogant son of a bitch. I can't be his only enemy."

"Okay. We will start there—we will look for enemies he might have made who now see a long-term shot at revenge and profit, and who can afford to go after it by taking over Salvatore Industries."

"That sounds absolutely ridiculous."

"Not nearly as much when you consider the fact that no legitimate corporation with motives of pure profit would resort to using mass media to spread rumours as a means of weakening their prey."

"It is still ridiculous," Damon argued. "Sooner or later they are going to have to make their intentions known, and the minute they do, they are going to be suspect in spreading the rumours."

"Being suspect doesn't mean anything unless there is proof," Enzo said flatly.

"I will take care of it," Damon said shortly. "Go home."

When Enzo left, Damon called Intercorp's chief of security, Wes Maxfield, and waited impatiently while Maxfield's wife called him away from the ball game on television. In his mid-fifties, Maxfield was a balding ex-marine and built like a halfback, with a deep gravelly voice that suited his physical image perfectly. He chewed gum and guffawed over his own jokes while he ambled around peering over everyone's shoulder, managing to give the impression of being an ordinary ex-security guard who'd somehow been promoted to a desk job that was way beyond his capabilities.

In truth, he was a former FBI undercover agent with a list of major criminal arrests that were owed to his ability to look innocuous and not too bright while he insinuated himself into the inner circles of his prey. His salary was $225,000 a year, plus stock options and a benefits package.

When he answered Damon's call, the deceptive jocularity was absent from his manner. "Do we have a problem?"

"I know you still have some connections with the FBI."

"What's up?"

"I need you to find an anonymous caller. I will send you the details in the email."

"Okay, I'm sure I can pull some strings at the FBI office."

"Do that," Damon said. "And I want someone to keep an eye on the board of directors of Salvatore Industries."

"Which one?"

"All of them."

"All of them?"

"Yes. I will send you the name list."

After he hung up, Damon left the office and drove back to his condominium. He fixed himself a drink and carried it into the living room. He propped his feet up on the coffee table and dialled Elena's number. She answered on the second ring, her soft, musical voice soothing and cheering him.

"How was your day?" he asked her.

"It was lovely. How was yours?"

Damon refused to think about another company trying to take over Salvatore Industries. "Great. But I miss you."

"I miss you too."

"Can you shorten your holiday in Mystic Falls and come back to LA as soon as possible?"

She chuckled over the phone. "You know how busy my schedule is, Damon. I hardly spend time with aunt Jenna and uncle Logan in recent years."

"I understand." He took a sip of the bourbon in his glass. "The second we see each other again, I am going to give you the most mind-blowing night of your life."

Elena laughed. "Okay. I think I could schedule you in."

"You could schedule me in," he repeated, chuckling. "I like that."

"By the way, I helped aunt Jenna with some baking this afternoon. We made peanut butter cookies."

"Sounds delicious."

"They tasted horrible," she said dryly.

"What went wrong?"

"I had forgotten about the sugar completely."

Damon was speechless for a brief moment and he ended up collapsing against the sofa behind him and shaking with laughter. "You are completely incorrigible," he said, giggling.

"I know I'm pathetic in the kitchen."

He tried to stop his smile. "I'm sorry, sweetie," he finished lamely and dishonestly.

"The hell you are," she retorted, but there was a tinge of reluctant amusement in it. "You are doing your damnedest not to laugh."

Damon chuckled out loud. "Don't change, sweetie. Stay the way you are."

"Not until you promise."

"Promise what?"

"That you will never ask me to cook in the kitchen."

"I cannot make a promise I may not keep," he advised her solemnly.

"Oh, you are such a bully."

Damon laughed harder.

x x x

Damon watched Elena as she sat at the bow of the yacht. His girlfriend wasn't worthy of anything less. She looked beautiful enough and happy enough to take his breath away. He doubted he would ever look at her and not feel the exact same way. She had become his entire life, a life that had made him so happy that it was almost terrifying.

She had come on board the yacht full of excitement and enthusiasm, anxious to be out on the water. Looking at her, he could tell she would become as addicted to being on the water as he was. She was already involved in shooting pictures of just about anything and everything she saw.

Her hair was loose and blowing wildly in the breeze, making her look untamed and sexy as hell.

"Having fun?" He took a seat beside her.

"This is incredible. Thank you for bringing me out," she answered enthusiastically. "My parents used to bring us to Dunham Lake during school holiday but it is the first time I have been on a yacht on the lake."

"This is a nice place," he said.

He had been in the vicinity for only a few hours and somewhat to his surprise, he had discovered he liked Dunham Lake. Ripples on the blue-green surface in front of him shimmered in the waning sun of a warm afternoon.

"I was worried it would be too cold to go onto the water this morning but it turned out to be quite nice."

She smiled at him. "Yeah, it is nice."

Damon had surprised her by turning up at her house on Saturday afternoon and Elena was ecstatic about it. They had spent most of yesterday at her house since he knew she wanted to spend more time with Jenna and Logan. Jenna had welcomed Damon like family, and he was grateful that Jenna seemed to have accepted him for the time being as a new family friend.

Except Logan.

Logan wasn't neutral. Every instinct Damon possessed warned him that Logan was solidly opposed to Elena's relationship with him. Not that he made it obvious. Logan was much too well-bred to disturb his wife's family with any sort of unpleasant coldness at the house.

The Fell family was one of the founder families of Mystic Falls. Logan knew about what had happened to Damon's family. All the members of the founder families had stayed away from Giuseppe and his family after Giuseppe started drinking. His family became an outcast when Zach took over Salvatore Industries.

He understood it. In business, Damon always made it a practice to force adversaries like Logan out into the open, where they couldn't hide their feelings and intentions beneath the nearly impenetrable layers of social custom and ritual. Damon did that because it made them feel awkward, exposed, and uncomfortable, which made any contest of wits more equal.

In this case, Damon saw no reason to force Logan from his position of passive opposition into one of open enmity. Elena was his girlfriend, and for some reason, Damon knew she would not back out on him.

He trusted her.

"I'm glad you like it," he told her simply as he dropped a kiss on her forehead.

"I love it. I have already gotten some beautiful shots."

Damon grinned. "I haven't shown you the comfortable cabins yet."

She smirked at him. "Is that all you ever think about?"

"When I'm around you? Yep. Pretty much." Damon wasn't going to deny he wanted to get her into a bed. Any bed. All he had to do was look at her, think about her, and he was rock-hard.

It was actually harder to keep his hands off her as they grew closer and closer, and this realization was profoundly disturbing.

He still had more business to finish up in Los Angeles after the weekend, but he had made plans for them to have a holiday soon. They might hit Aspen to ski, and he knew Elena would love it. If Elena wanted to come back to Mystic Falls more often, he would come back to Mystic Falls.

"There are quite a few cosy little restaurants here. Have you decided what you would like to eat tonight?" he asked casually.

"I have heard there is a restaurant located a short distance from the lake which serves elegant vegetarian cuisine." She swiped her windblown hair back from her face.

"What is good on their menu?"

"How about eggplant parmesan? Jenna said it serves one of the best eggplant parmesan."

Damon chuckled. "You are an eggplant girl, huh?"

"Is that bad?" She looked at him. "You don't like eggplant."

He shook his head, laughing. "Love it. Just taking notes. Mental notes."

She laughed. "For what?"

"I was thinking five-year anniversary."

"Five-year anniversary? I like it," she said as she threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled his head down for a steamy kiss.

Damon groaned. He needed to show her the cabins soon. As their mouths separated, he said persuasively, "Come below."

"But it is beautiful up here," she protested mildly and threw him a wicked smile.

"Something will be beautiful down below, too."

"Won't the crew think it is odd that we have already disappeared below deck?"

"I pay them," he replied cockily.

"I guess I could use a nap. Somebody kept me up late last night," she admonished him playfully.

He picked her up, and headed toward the stairs. "Sweetheart, I think you will still be tired."

"Then maybe we shouldn't," she pondered teasingly. Her arms wrapped around his neck.

"We should," he insisted as he took her down the stairs. She was so damn beautiful, there was no way he was letting her nap until later. Much later.

"I love you," she murmured into his ear.

Damn! He moved faster, letting Elena open the door as they arrived at the cabin. "I love you, sweetie."

"So what do you think?" he asked. "Do you like it?"

"Beautiful," Elena answered reverently. "So, tell me, Damon. How often do you bring a woman on a yacht? You must have done it before," she teased.

"I have never screwed a woman on a yacht."

"Really?"

"You will be the first woman I have ever made love to on a yacht. The first and the only one."

"Let's make your dreams come true," she told him quietly, seriously.

"Sweetie, they already have."

He kissed her, and she proceeded to bring his every fantasy to life, and she succeeded, making reality far better than fantasy.

He had waited a lifetime for Elena, and every moment with her was better than the last. He could not seem to get enough of her, in bed or out of it, and that was an unprecedented experience for him. She fit the curve of his arm as if she were made for him; in bed, she was a temptress, an angel, and a courtesan. She could drive him to unparalleled heights of passion with a sound, a look, a touch. Out of bed, she was funny, fascinating, stubborn, witty, and intelligent. She could anger him with a word and then disarm him with a smile. She was artlessly sophisticated, devoid of pretension, and filled with so much life and love that she mesmerized him at times, like when she talked about her job at the hospital.

He was seven years older and a thousand times harder than she, and yet something about her softened him and made him like being soft, both of which were new experiences for him. Before he met Elena again, he had been accused by women of being everything from distant and unapproachable to cold and ruthless. Several women had told him he was like a machine, and one of them had carried the analogy to a definition: She said he turned on for sex and then turned off for everything else except his work. During one of their frequent arguments, Andie had told him he could charm a snake and he was just as cold as one.

But Elena was different. For him, she was the best thing that had ever happened to him, his life.

Damon had decided that sometimes, miraculous things really were worth the wait.