Author's Note: I'm feeling generous, so I decided to post another chapter tonight. Enjoy :)

Chapter 28

Damon

I spent an hour driving around Miami, searching every hotel until my phone pinged, notifying me of Elena's location. She finally turned her phone on and is going to kill me when she finds out I installed a hidden tracking app on her new phone while she was getting ready for the exchange. When we get home, I'm installing something more permanent. Hell, I'll install a tracking chip somewhere on her while she's sleeping if I have to. I've been driving for over an hour trying to find her and now I know where to go. She's at the Princeton South Beach, but the tracker gives me no more detail. She could be at a restaurant or she could be in a room above that or on a floor above that.

And I'm stuck in traffic. I constantly look at the phone, hoping she'll call me back or at the very least, text me. Nothing.

Close to an hour later, I park the black Lexus I borrowed from Santiago in the employee parking lot behind the hotel. I'm sure I'm going to have to make a quick exit, even if it's with Elena over my shoulder, fireman style. The car is borrowed from Santiago because of the tinted bulletproof windows and only Santiago would have a car with a gun holster under the front seat. Added bonus being no one can track the plates back to me and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't be able to track them back to Santiago either.

With my gun secured in the waistband of my jeans, I put on my leather jacket and walk through the back entrance of the hotel with a group of employees that must be part of the night shift. I'm easily able to slip in with them and make my way to the front entrance, keeping my eyes open for a girl in a red dress.

A concierge with his hand behind his back approaches me and casts me a wary glance. "Can I help you, sir?" He asks with a condescendingly polite nod.

"Yeah, I'm supposed to meet a girl here. She's wearing a red dress and has dark hair pulled back into a ponytail."

A hot as fuck dress. That bag of dicks dressed her and now he has a big ass target on his back.

The concierge relaxes his arms to straighten his brown jacket. "Yes, I showed her the way to the de León bar. Follow me."

The lobby looks like something out of a Miami Vice rerun, and not in a good way. I'm surprised I don't see more patrons in white polyester suit jackets with shoulder pads and fake tans. We reach the entrance of the bar and looking past the front desk, I don't see Elena at the bar. "Did you see her go anywhere else?"

"No, sir. I left after seeing her into the bar."

Something about the way his hand flexes before clasping it with the other behind his back that makes me think he's not being honest. Also, he has one of those faces that you just want to punch, and right now, I really want to punch something. But being carried out by security isn't something I can afford at the moment.

I walk into the bar and order a double of Old Forester. The bartender places my drink on a red napkin in front of me. "Would you like to start a tab?"

I shake my head. "Have you seen a girl, she's about five-seven, has big brown eyes and is wearing a red dress?"

"No, sir." He leaves to wait on another patron.

With my drink in hand, I look around the bar.

I know she was supposed to make the exchange in a bar; it's why I believed the concierge when he said he walked her here. Picking up my glass, I casually walk around the place, including the restaurant, acting like I'm trying to find a friend who's already seated. When I don't see her, I make my way back to the bar.

"Are you looking for that girl the owner is obsessed with?"

A girl that can't be more than twenty-two, wearing a white dress similar to Elena's, sidles up next to me. I quirk an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I heard you earlier talking to the bartender." She tilts her head to the side and gazes at me while fingering the collar of my jacket. "I can give you more information if you want to talk privately."

My hand snaps to her wrist and pushes it out of the way, but I still keep my hand firmly around her wrist so she'll get the message loud and clear. "You will tell me what you know and then go back to the saggy balls money-ticket you left to pathetically try and seduce me."

I squeeze, just barely and she shudders. "Everyone in Miami knows who Marco Reyes is; he's like royalty down here. I noticed him the second he came in. Some jerk was messing with the girl you're looking for and the next thing I know, Marco gets rid of the guy, then she left with Marco."

"Where did they go?"

She rolls her eyes like I'm stupid. "Duh, his penthouse."

I let go of her hand and walk away without so much as a thank you. I leave a hundred for my drink and walk out of the bar, trying to find the elevator to the penthouse. In my dad's hotels, they're usually down a separate hallway apart from the main elevator cars. After walking past the main elevators, I walk down a long hallway that leads to conference rooms and boardrooms when I hear a voice.

"Clever to hide half of it in the de León's bathroom," says a gruff voice with a slight accent. He sounds more entertained than angry.

"Being locked in an ivory tower doesn't appeal to me."

Elena.

"Noted," he replies. "But you can save me the trip and instead you could join me for a nightcap… if you'll just tell me where Viviana."

"Now where's the fun in that?"

What the ever-loving fuck were they doing in his penthouse? Viviana?

The voices come closer. Elena knew she'd need an out, so she hid half the product in the bathroom so they'd have to go back and get it. She must've known he'd take her somewhere else. My baby is resourceful.

But I'm not going to let it get that far.

I swiftly walk back the way I came and taking a leaf out of Elena's playbook, pull the fire alarm located near the main elevators. In the chaos of everyone evacuating, Marco and Elena walk past me. He has his hand clasped around her wrist, but no gun, and she doesn't seem like she's being forced. However, she does a double-take when she passes me and chooses to ignore my attempt to save her ass. Instead, they go into the restaurant. "Dan," he says to a large ex-military type, wearing all black. "What the hell happened?"

Elena stands limply at his side. This isn't like her, something's wrong. She's not trying to leave or escape. Fuck. That.

I stride toward her, yank her out of his grip, and flip her over my shoulder. Bag and all. I don't bother glancing in Marco's direction to see what he's about to do. He can't shoot me with all these people evacuating and I'm too fast. I run with her over my shoulder to the employee parking lot, plop her in the front seat, shut the door and lock her in with the click of a button.

There isn't anyone behind me or coming from the exit. Two security guards walk out of another door and look around the parking lot with their guns at the ready. I duck when they spot me, shots fly through the air. I pull my gun out and looking over the hood of the Lexus, fire. With the silencer on, his partner barely has a moment to register what happened when I shoot again, aiming for the knee.

With both men down, I once again check my surroundings while walking to the driver's side door in a crouch. Five more men come out of the door Elena and I exited. One of them is Marco. I open the driver's side door to use as a shield and crouching behind it, aim right for him. I wait. I want him to see me before I do it.

He glares, daring me to shoot with five of his armed men around him. I glare. I'm ready to pull the trigger when the warmest brown eyes steps before me, blocking my shot. Her eyes are round and worried. "Damon, don't."

I glance at her and back at him and back at her. "Elena," I seethe. "He took you to his penthouse."

"And fed me dinner and we talked, that's it."

"He is going to try to take you away from me, I can feel it."

She takes a tentative step to the side, moving wherever I aim. "He has a family that loves him. Damon, he has a younger brother that worships him."

I lower my weapon and she wraps her arms around my middle. "And he's not going to take me away from you," she murmurs into my shirt.

I hug her back, but when I look back up at Marco, he smirks, winks, and motions for his men to help the guys I shot, while a bodyguard the size of a pro wrestler follows him inside.

I guess he's letting us go.

When she doesn't say anything on our way out of Miami, I start to worry. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

She turns toward the window, looking up at the moon through the glass. "You knew," she shudders.

"Knew what?"

"IT," she shouts. "They filmed it, the entire thing and sold it. That's why you were so secretive about your phone calls with Cameron." Tears flow down her face. "You knew."

I'm going to lose her.

I can't.

"Elena, I don't know what you're talking about. Filmed what?"

She takes a deep shuttering breath. "Chase, Noah, and Frederick filmed that night and sold it to some porn company."

Her sobs are loud; I've never heard her like this before. Guilt starts to eat away at me. I wasn't able to stop it. It now must have well over twenty million views.

"I'll get it taken down," I promise her. "I'll take care of this."

"It's too late," she sobs. "The families will know."

I have nothing to say. What can I say? I knew and chose not to tell you? I knew and tried to take care of it but failed?

Instead, I listen to her hushed sobs while we drive north.

We drive in silence back to West Palm Beach, where we'll fly out in the morning. Elena doesn't say much, she lays with her head against the window. A few times I think she's asleep, but she's still awake, staring blankly into space. Every time I try to get her attention, she mutters a yes or no reply or just shrugs.

I pull into a Salvatore International Hotel, and because I am a Salvatore, I bypass the front desk and use one of the family suites. Elena slumps against the wall while I get the family skeleton hotel key out of my wallet and opens the door. She doesn't ask why I have a key or why we stopped, she follows me into the room, drops her bag to the floor, and just stands there, helplessly. Her shoulders are slouched and her ponytail is lopsided from the car ride. Messy chestnut tendrils fall in her face, framing her glassy eyes. She bites her lip like she doesn't know what to do.

"I don't have my bag," she mumbles.

I move to stand before her. I run my fingers through the strands around her face, my knuckle grazing her cheek. Even in fuck-me heels, I tower over her. I continue my path to the nape of her neck and take out her ponytail and enjoy the feel of her silky locks through my fingers, combing her hair. I walk around her slowly, admiring the strength of her long legs, her slim waist, the curve of her ass, her elegant neck, her plump lips, wet with tears. I stand behind her, unzip the side of her dress and gradually peel the dress off her body until it pools at her feet. I crouch down to my knees and press my lips to the back of her thigh before carefully taking off her heels. I kneel before this girl, standing before me in lace panties with her long hair covering her pert breasts, praying I don't lose her. She's a gift and I feel her slipping away.

I pick her up and carry her to bed, wrapping the duvet around her and kiss her forehead before turning out the lights.

Elena

I stir awake, having to use the restroom. The bedside clock reads just after four in the morning. I don't know what time we got in, but it couldn't have been more than a few hours ago. The room has a cold, dead feeling about it. I could feel him leave just after he placed the duvet over my body. Sure, he left to get my things from the car but it was more than that. For the first time in a long time, that old loneliness settled in again. Memories of going for long runs during the summer just to go home to the smell of pot and my mom's screams as she screwed someone else washed over me. Miranda, I mean. Not my mom. Never was, I guess.

I go to the bathroom and wash up before climbing back into bed. I sincerely try to get back to sleep but it doesn't come, instead, there's a desire to look through the files my dad left me. Grayson, I mean. My bag is sitting on an armchair in the sitting room. I grab some items of clothing Damon and I picked up yesterday and take a long shower. I keep my ears perked for signs that Damon is here but like a punch to the gut, I think he got another room.

He probably thinks I'm disgusting. He's now probably seen the video and doesn't want anything to do with me. I can't blame him. Honestly.

After showering and blowing dry my hair, I pull on soft olive green leggings and a long white v-neck tee. I braid my dry hair over one shoulder, grab the computer out of my bag and plop down on the loveseat.

I open the file and click on my birth certificate, still unable to get over the date of birth. The story in these documents contradicts what Giuseppe said, but aligns with what Marco said. Marco said rumors were my parents were in love. It's something Shakespearian. Two kids from rival families fall in love one summer in upstate New York. Isabella got pregnant and somehow ended up in Mystic Falls. If Isabella and Antonio fell in love, they can't be that bad. From the stories I've heard, both families are brutal. Isabella feared me living in that world which is why she gave me up. But there has to be more to the story.

I click on another document, similar to my birth certificate but turns out to be the opposite. Death Certificate: Viviana Elena Giovanni, cause of death: multiple traumatic injuries; combined effects of traumatic and thermal injuries.

I look at the date. I was four.

I'm…dead?

When I search the recesses of my brain, I don't remember much before third grade. The year I met Damon Salvatore. I admitted as much to Damon weeks ago when we discovered Miranda and Grayson weren't my biological parents.

I start reading the letters my dad left me. Dom had the decency to put them in order or paid someone to do as much. There are dozens of letters, the first one dating back to the period of time after he was sentenced. The first letters are full of apologies. He's sorry for succumbing to addiction and bringing that into the home. Even the scanned documents show tear stains on writing about guilt over Jeremy's and Stefan's deaths.

Grayson apologizes for not protecting me from Miranda but stresses that he did, at one point, love her until it became volatile and she started cheating on him. He explains that when Jeremy was born, he had a paternity test done. If the baby wasn't his, he was going to take me and leave, but she knew the truth about me and threaten to tell everyone if he didn't stay with her. Jeremy turned out to be his biological son, so he stayed with Miranda for him. When he was sentenced, Miranda wanted to leave town but he said he'd gladly drag her down with him if she didn't at least stay to be my guardian.

I pause reading and rub my eyes, then stand up to make myself a cup of coffee, using the pod coffee maker in the kitchen. She must've found out he died and knew she was off the hook, so that was when she left. Were the Giovanni and Russo families so bad that I was left to be raised by someone who hated everything about me?

When my coffee is ready, I take it to the sitting area where I left my laptop. I start where I left off. His letters aren't just explanations, but he talks about his childhood in Mystic Falls. How sad he was when his parents died, and how that was when he decided to marry Miranda, his high school sweetheart.

Grayson recalled memories of me going to his office, describing how sweet and happy I was. The nurses put me in charge of handing out lollipops. I was just supposed to hand them out to kids but felt bad so I handed them out to everyone. "Everyone needs a little lolly in their life, daddy," He writes, recalling words I spoke.

I wipe away tears that started to trail down my cheeks, wishing I could remember. I click on the next document and it's a picture of a baby being cradled by a girl, no older than myself, with long dark hair, we have the same long, straight hair and same oval face but my eyes, my eyes match the man standing next to her. He's tall and broad with dark eyes, that light up at the bundle in the girl's arms. He looks twenty or so, wearing a Columbia t-shirt and jeans. Underneath the picture are the names, Izzy, Viv, and Tony, and the date matches around the time I was born, in August.

I've never seen a baby picture of myself before. I always thought it was because Miranda hated me, but now I know it's because they didn't have any. The next picture is different. I have to be four in the picture, Miranda stands next to Grayson, looking ready to give birth at any moment. Grayson is holding me, wearing a Columbia Medical School sweatshirt. The background is unmistakably New York City.

The next document is a letter, dated a year ago and the subsequent letters are up until the day he died. He explains a different version from what Giuseppe explained. The Gilberts had a family summer home in the Adirondacks, where he met a couple, young and in love. Miranda preferred to stay in the city, where she had a collection of friends and shopping opportunities while Grayson stayed in upstate to intern for a family practitioner. He'd go back to the city on the weekends or when he could.

It was then that he met a young Isabella Russo. Grayson had heard of the Russo family and Giovanni family, but being bound by the Hippocratic oath, he felt committed to helping the couple.

Isabella was just sixteen when she was pregnant with me. For every appointment, her boyfriend, Antonio Giovanni was there to hold her hand. They got excited over every sonogram and were thrilled when they found out they were having a girl.

Once Antonio trusted Grayson, he paid extra for him to make home visits. Grayson was blindfolded and driven to every appointment. Only Antonio knew the location and he had private security covering the property.

Grayson explains that he didn't mind because he learned more and more about the family and their unique situation. Isabella was supposed to stay a virgin until she was married, and she was meant to marry Domenico Moretti. However, while on summer vacation with a cousin, she met and fell in love with Antonio. When she found out she was pregnant in the middle of her Junior year of high school, she contacted Antonio who immediately took her back to where their love began to protect her.

Grayson delivered me, and Isabella and Antonio stayed in his cabin until they could figure out what to do next. Antonio went back and forth between the Adirondacks and New York City for school and to keep up pretenses. His family knew nothing about me because Antonio knew what may happen if the Russos and the Giovannis found out I was alive, they'd kill me.

"Yes, a child," Grayson wrote. "Antonio was sure if anyone found out he fell in love with a rival family, the product of that love would be a threat."

Antonio grew paranoid and refused to let Isabella leave the cabin. Even though the cabin was more like a log-wood mansion on a massive estate, she was cut off from society. She worried about her own family and knew that even though she'd been gone for years, they'd still be looking for her.

Grief-stricken over the death of his wife, Lily, Giuseppe was in New York visiting his friend, Grayson when everything went to crap. After more than three years of being tucked away in the cabin, Isabella decided to go shopping in town with me on her hip. Isabella was charming and was able to convince one of her security to sneak her out.

While shopping, she saw Grayson with Giuseppe at lunch and decided to ask them if she and Viviana could join. Over time, Grayson was the only contact she had and became her confidant and close friend. That's where she met Giuseppe for the first time. Grayson writes that she loved Antonio, but had a connection with Giuseppe. Grayson comments that for the first time since his wife died, Giuseppe came to life.

Antonio was spending more and more time in the city after having graduated college. Giuseppe decided to stay in the Adirondacks while their nanny, Luciana, stayed with Stefan and Damon in Mystic Falls. Giuseppe and Isabella became close friends and because of his connections, was able to get her out of the cabin more often.

One evening, Giuseppe took Isabella out to dinner, leaving Viviana to be watched by one of the security guards. In the city, Antonio received word that Isabella was going to dinner at Sage and Olive with a man. They, later on, found out that it was a waitress who had a crush on Antonio who informed him.

After dinner, while they were walking around lit-up downtown, Antonio confronted Giuseppe and Isabella. The fight was captured on camera and sent to the tabloids and that's when the rumors really started about Antonio and Isabella. The Russo's now knew where Isabella was hiding and only Isabella truly understood what that meant. Antonio shrugged it off and kept her at the cabin, locked away and safe. Within days, Isabella started making plans.

No one knew of the child except Antonio. If he knew the Russo's were coming, Antonio would take me and make me live with his family, who'd marry me off at a young age. I would grow up as she had. If the Russo's got me, they'd kill me to get rid of Isabella's mistake so they could marry off Isabella. Isabella was still young and vibrant, she knew they'd force her to marry a family to form an alliance.

Grayson writes that he and Giuseppe had talked about the family council. Isabella didn't like the idea of getting involved with another organization, but they promised it was safe. The Founding Families were committed to preserving Mystic Falls. They organized functions and helped each other when needed. They had connections, though not as many as the mafia, but they could hide me. They offered to hide Isabella too, but she knew in order to save her daughter, she had to leave me and distract her family from my existence.

One morning, Isabella snuck off with me in her car seat. She made sure the right traffic light got a picture of her running a red light. She drove through town and ran an errand with Viviana. On her way back to the cabin, she pulled over just before a dangerous, blind curve going downhill. She swiftly handed Viviana to Grayson, who drove away with Giuseppe in the driver's seat. Then she flipped a switch, drove, and jumped out of the car just before it blew up falling down the mountainside. She was found later by search and rescue, and when she woke up, her parents were by her bedside, disappointed.

The council used connections in the city to forge my death certificate. They planted a bomb in the car and made sure the evidence led back to Domenico Moretti, the man Isabella was supposed to marry. There was definitely motive there and there was hope the Russo's would no longer wish to tie the two organizations together through her marriage.

Both the Russo family and the Giovanni family went after the Moretti family. They killed the entire organization, leaving Moretti standing alone on his family's ashes as a reminder of who he crossed. Grayson took me in, called me by my middle name, and gave me his last. Elena Gilbert. Miranda, pregnant with Stefan, was forced to leave her friends and go to Mystic Falls where she had to lie and say I was her daughter and she had me in New York.

After Grayson left the Adirondacks and started his own practice, everything seemed to be going well. He lied about my age, making me older than my four years so it was easier to hide me; I was tall for my age. In the letters, he wrote, "You were in the 99th percentile for your height and age, it wasn't hard to make people believe you were eighteen months older than you actually are. Remember how I read you, Harry Potter? You were always my special child, the one who survives."

Because Miranda hated me, he took me to work with him and homeschooled me. The nurses would watch me while he was with patients. No one thought twice about it because Miranda was busy with baby Jeremy. At the time, everyone admired Grayson for stepping up and helping out. They enrolled me in school after I started asking about the boy with sad eyes, Giuseppe's kid. Grayson admitted that he purposefully made me the same age as Giuseppe's kid because he knew I'd always have a friend that's part of a family that knows my secret.

When Domenico Moretti found out the truth and became determined to destroy Grayson's life. It took years for him to build back up the business, but when he did, he wanted nothing more than to destroy the people responsible for the destruction and death of his family. Domenico forced Grayson to take drugs. He forced him to sell his drugs to influential people in Mystic Falls, thereby ruining his reputation. The threat always remained, Domenico, who uncovered the truth, would tell the world who I was.

In the final letter, Grayson warns me that they're closing in and he fears for his life. He was supposed to get parol but was forced to switch lawyers. "Moretti is always pulling the strings. I hope these letters get to you so I can warn you what you're up against. Find John. Remember what he taught you? He was always twelve steps ahead. There is a way to find him, it's right in front of your face. My brother likes to hide in plain sight. I am sorry you did not get the life that you deserve, but you can make a new one. You can create your own path. I love you, my daughter, my pride and joy."

I feel myself crumble from the inside out. My dad really did love me. He made me pancakes and took the time to teach me how to read, in his office, apparently. He delivered me and then paid for it.

"What's wrong?"

Damon stands at the doorway with coffee and a white bag. There's something off about him because, for the first time in my life, Damon looks at me warily— like he's not confident in how he should react.

"I was going through the files Domenico left me."

"Your dad's letters."

I nod, tears still streaming down my face while he just stands there. I want to shake him, wake him up from whatever is going on in his head. "There are other documents on there too. I haven't gone through them all."

He walks over and places the coffee and paper bag on the coffee table. "I got you coffee and breakfast."

Damon walks away, back to the door. "Where were you last night?" I ask.

He stops and turns, regarding me with the same wary sad eyes. "The plane leaves soon, I'll be back to pick you up in an hour."

Then he leaves. It's clear he can't look at me the same way as he once did.

I ignore the breakfast before me and lean against the couch, so caught off guard and distracted by Damon's behavior that for a brief moment, I don't think about my dad's letters. Maybe when Damon saw me, knowing I read my dad's letters, he wanted to leave me alone to digest. Knowing him, he'll probably steal my computer on the plane and go through the files himself.

I pull the computer back on my lap and reread the letters. There's one thing I know for sure, Domenico wanted me to read these letters and find out what happened to his family because of the effort others went to in order to protect me. But I also think it's suspect he'd sell me off to Marco. It's a little too similar to what Isabella went through. I need to talk to Giuseppe.

I reread the letters dad sent me. According to my dad, John taught me everything from picking locks to pickpocketing to hot-wiring a car because he knew one day, I'd need those skills. He wasn't wrong. Dad said that finding John is right in front of my face.

That's when I notice something. On the last ten scanned letters, two letters are bolded, like they'd been traced over several times. It just happens once per page and if you weren't looking for it, you wouldn't notice. It's always two letters that are right next to each other. I grab a pad from the desk and a hotel pen and start writing down the letters in chronological order.

(fo) (th) (si) (fi) (fi) (fi) (tw) (on) (se) (ei)

I stare at the letters and think. There are ten sets of letters. The bolded words aren't found in any of the previous letters my dad wrote. If it's a way to contact Uncle John, then it'll be a phone number. Ten sets, ten digits. That means… fo must stand for four. I follow the same pattern for the rest of the letters. (436) 555-2178

I rip off the number on the hotel pad and fold it in quarters before hiding it in my backpack. I need a break from all of this, so I put my computer back in my backpack and turn on the television.

Deciding on the news, because I want to see if there's anything about what happened in Miami, I sit back and watch. The anchor goes on about local news. A fire at a restaurant. A local, corrupt politician being caught with a woman that's not his wife. Then a picture flashes that catches me off guard. "In national news, Noah Scott, a promising high school football player awaiting trial, for alleged drug trafficking and sexual assault, in Falls County Jail was found dead in his cell Wednesday. A Falls County jail spokesperson said he died of asphyxiation from hanging. After an interview with his cellmate and due to overwhelming evidence, the death has been ruled a suicide."

Noah killed himself yesterday? Noah's dead?

"Did you hear?" Damon stands in the doorway, his bag in hand.

"Noah's dead," I state, the words taste funny coming out of my mouth. I still can't believe it. "I didn't want him do die. Just pay for what he did."

His crystal blue irises darken. "I did."

"Well, he beat you to it then," I reply bitterly, standing to get my bags.

"Do you really think he did it?"

"What do you mean?"

He gives me a look.

"You think Moretti had him killed?"
He slightly shakes his head. "Marco. Reyes," he seethes through gritted teeth.

I can't help but roll my eyes. So dramatic, this one. "The news said he died yesterday, as in during the day. I just met Marco last night. What motivation could he possibly have to kill Noah Scott?"

His right hand squeezes the bag he's holding, making his veins more pronounced. He licks his lips before slowly gliding his eyes over me. "There's something I need to tell you."

"So now you want to talk? How 'bout we start with you telling me where you've been?"

"Get your things; We'll talk on the plane."

I sit right back down on the couch and fold my arms. "I'll find my own way back, thanks."

"Elena, stop acting like a child and get your shit so we can leave this fucking state."

"What are you going to do? Fuck me into submission?" I ask, crossing my legs and sitting casually back against the cushions. "I'll have you know, I recently found out I'm seventeen. That makes you a cradle robber. Kidnapping and taking me over state lines is a felony."

Something funny happens to Damon's face. He drops his bag and just stares at me. "You're seventeen?"

"Yeah, my birth certificate is in the documents Grayson left me."

I refrain from telling him about my premature death because he's obviously still processing the news. What I don't expect for him to do is to take out his phone and excuse himself to the bedroom and shut the door behind him. Jokes on him, I tiptoe and listen to the conversation on the other side of the door.

"Cameron, she was seventeen when they filmed the video. Can you get them to take it down?"

"I don't know if she has a birth certificate."

"The original?"

"Yeah, I don't want to ask. Is there any other way?"

"No, she doesn't know."

He knew about the video? Moreover, he knew and he purposefully kept it from me? His lawyer buddy knows and I didn't? Instead, I had to find out about if from some stranger.

I burst through the door, seething with unrestrained anger. Damon takes one look at me and doesn't get a chance to end his phone call because I grab it out of his hand and toss it across the room. "You knew?" I scream. "You knew there was a video of me from that night and you didn't tell me?"

Damon actually looks a little frightened. He tries to place placating hands on the tops of my shoulders, but I shove them off. I'm angry Noah died and I never got justice for what he did. Death is not justice, justice would've been for him to go to trial and then rot and then die. I'm angry that Damon is acting so distant and I'm angry that a video from that horrific night is out there and there are people profiting off of my rape.

"I was going to tell you."

"Really?" I laugh, it's maniacal and crazed. "You demand I tell you things and yet you think I don't deserve the same thing? You lied to my face, Damon. Last night, you effing lied."

This is crazy, I'm leaving. I run through the hotel and grab my few remaining items shoving them in my backpack.

Damon chases after me, following me while I pick up my items. "Fine, just leave. That's what you're good at. Leave when you're too afraid to ask for help and then I have to use all my resources to find you and bail you out of trouble."

I spin around. "Fuck. You."

"Santiago and Malohi were at Mystic Falls High School. Their job is to watch you and you could've contacted them the moment you saw Moretti in Principal Hale's office. They would've gotten you out of there in seconds. But you left and you didn't even try to contact me," he argues. "And don't you dare say that you left me a message because that was a shit thing to do, Elena. This is your M.O., you do everything on your own. You don't accept help because you're afraid to rely on someone else."

"You don't get to do that," I shout, pointing my index finger at him with my other hand on my hip. "You kept this from me. Your lawyer boy Cameron knew about it and you purposefully kept me in the dark. My guess is that you've known about this for a while."

He runs his fingers through his hair, which is his tell. He did know about this for a while. "I was going to tell you."

"Yeah, well, Marco showed me last night after dessert and then I vomited dinner into a plant."

"Marco?" He seethes his fight back. "Enjoyed dessert with Marco, did you?"

"That's what you got from what I said?"

"They all want you, Elena. Don't you see that? They want you for your bloodline, for your name, and what that could mean for them. Domenico Moretti and Marco Reyes see you as someone they can use. You are a toy that they will use and then discard the moment something better comes along." His voice is so unlike his own, it's cruel and cold. This isn't my prince of darkness, this is someone else entirely. "And you're too naive to see it."

"Is that all you think I could be to anyone? Do you think you're any better?"

It was like I slapped him but it's like a switch flipped and his gaze narrows. "You like it. You like the attention you like the distraction because it prevents you from trying to decide what to do with your own life. All you had to do, Elena was listen to me. Stay in the pool house and message Santi or Mal if you're in trouble because God knows you won't contact me. You have options for college. You have an Olympic coach that wants to train you and you are going to throw it away because this life intrigues you. Reyes intrigues you, I saw it last night and I hear it in your voice when you talk to Moretti on the phone."

"Is that what you think?"

The unmistakable jerk of his chin is all I needed. I sling my backpack over my shoulder and grab the tote bag that fell to the floor as I was rushing around. I go to pick it up when the black velvet box Marco gave me comes tumbling out.

"What is that?" Damon roars and beating me to it, grabs the box. He opens it and shows it to me. Inside is an emerald cut diamond the size of an ice skating rink, flanked by two slightly smaller diamonds. An engagement ring. I knew what it was but hadn't bothered to look at it. "Do you want to tell me about this?"

I snatch the box from his hands and put it back in the purse. "You have your secrets, I have mine."

I practically run to the door, trying to get away from him. Sure they want me, but he isn't fighting. I pause before I get to the door and turn to look at him through the open bedroom door. He's sitting on the edge of the bed with a vacant look on his face. I can't tell if he's angry or apathetic or just tired. One thing he's not doing is coming after me. He tracked me down to Florida and followed me until I pulled over at a gas station and now I seemed to have hit his limit. I close the door behind me and try to think of the best way to get back to Mystic Falls without a phone.