I am so excited you are loving this story so much, it's been quite an experiment to work with these characters because I still can't quite figure them out but hopefully you'll like the way they develop with time.

Thanks so much for reading and please enjoy!

It was a wicked and wild wind, blew down the doors to let me in.

Shattered windows and the sound of drums,

People couldn't believe what I'd become.

Revolutionaries wait, for my head on a silver plate.

Just a puppet on a lonely string,

Oh who would ever want to be king?

.

.

She was a pretty little thing.

Her face was perfectly symmetrical and her body was exquisite. She had a round and perky nose, her eyes were big and always so expressive… and her lips, well those were his favorite part of her.

He had every trace of her face committed to memory, and not only the physical aspect but the expressions as well. Over the years Elena had become an extension of who he was, sometimes he even believed he knew her better than he did himself. That's how he knew that something had changed with her in the last couple of days and it would make him stupid to say he didn't know the reason.

They were on the private plane back to the states and she had yet to say a word to him.

It wasn't that she was angry, because he couldn't see any trace of anger in her pretty little face, no, she was quiet, and on her, that was equally disturbing. Her earbuds were plucked in while her eyes drank in whatever she was reading on her Kindle, she was completely oblivious to his presence and he was relishing in the fact, savoring the opportunity of observing her without any interference.

Damon had allowed himself to get carried away on their day at the beach and he still couldn't shake the guilt out of him. For a minute he had forgotten who he was and what they were for each other, he had lost himself in the feel of her, in her laugh and the carefree nature that was part of her. His guard had been lowered and he had let himself forget, forget that she wasn't his to keep.

Thankfully, he had managed to get himself under control in the last moment, to snap back to reality and pull away before he did something he surely would regret later. He had been angry, frustrated and incredibly horny. He almost felt sorry for the poor soul whose face had to meet his fist and gut had to meet his knife in order for him to release all of his bottled emotions.

His grandfather had called and asked for a favor.

He had delivered.

There was a reason why they called him the reaper.

"Can we go home when we arrive?" The question asked in his direction startled him briefly and pulled him out of the trance he had been in. His eyes focused and he realized the earbuds were forgotten on her lap and her body was completely twisted in his direction.

He cleared his throat and with a quirked eyebrow, send a confused glance in her direction "I'm not sure I'm following"

Elena sighed and he noticed she was avoiding looking into his eyes, a fact he was finding to be quite irritating "Dad texted me, he wants us to stay at the house tonight because your mom needs some help with some event she's organizing" She murmured and the annoyance in her voice was hard to convey "I'll go to my apartment tomorrow"

Damon nodded "Okay, sure," He said "I'll have Trevor taking you"

He saw the way her body stiffened, a clear sign he had said something she didn't like. Her jaw clenched and her eyes became slightly wider "Trevor?" She asked with a touch of exasperation in her voice.

She was pissed off and it had nothing to do with his choice of driver.

Damon was the one to look away this time, the way she was looking at him made him feel somehow uncomfortable, so he pulled out his phone and focused on sending a text to his brother "I have to meet with Stefan to discuss some things"

Elena chuckled drily "And I'm not allowed to go" She stated more than asked and he had to bite back a smile at her tone.

His eyes moved to meet hers briefly "No, Bonita, you're not"

She rolled her eyes in a way that remind him of one of the many tantrums he had when she was a little girl and behaved like a petulant child "Sweet" She muttered before sitting up straight again.

Damon sighed "Elena—" His words were cut off by the sight of her, placing her earbuds back on and focusing on the Kindle in her lap once again. He shook his head and leaned back on his chair "Si que sos una princesa, corazón" (You do are a princess, sweetheart) He muttered before closing his eyes and trying to sleep.

Once they arrived back in the states, he watched her go with Trevor before taking his own car and heading in direction of the hip apartment his brother owned in downtown Manhattan. Being the only remaining male during the time Damon was away in Italy, Stefan was forced to remain living under the roof of John Gilbert but that didn't mean he didn't have his own place for the times he liked to get naughty as Damon often liked to point out.

The older brother stormed in as if he owned the place, Stefan had provided him with a key a long time ago and he liked to make use of the privilege his little brother had gifted him with. "What's up douche," He said as he stepped inside and found his brother sitting in one of the fancy beige couches that graced his living room, papers were scattered in the small coffee table placed in the center and a tumbler filled with what he guessed was bourbon dangled from his fingers.

Stefan nodded in acknowledgment "Nice to see you Damon" He muttered without taking his eyes away from the documents he had been studying.

Damon followed his line of sight and took a seat on the couch opposite him "What do you have for me?" He asked before Stefan handed him one of the manila folders he had laid on the table. Damon's blue gaze studied the documents for a couple of seconds before he muttered a curse and threw the folder back in the table "Those little rats"

He had the belief that people liked to get burned.

There was no doubt in the criminal world that operated in the US that John Gilbert held one of the most important active organizations, thanks to Damon and their connections with the Italian mafia and the Colombian and Mexican Cartels, their dominion over illegal trading was unlike any other.

For said reason, they were also the most brutal and feared out there.

And yet, people still believed it was a smart idea to steal from them.

Stefan grunted as he leaned back on the couch, one leg crossed casually over the other "They've taken millions Damon" He said, referring to a group of their operation men who had been smart enough to divert millions of dollars in guns and cocaine without Jonh Gilbert to notice.

Damon made a disgruntled noise as he stood up and went to his brother's makeshift bar to pour himself a glass of bourbon "I'll handle it" He mumbled, the blood lust already seething into his veins. If people started being brave enough as to defy them things could get real ugly, he wasn't going to allow that to happen.

Stefan chuckled "John said you would"

"Of course he did" Damon muttered with a hint of annoyance.

It seemed like all he did lately was clean John Gilbert's messes, the man had gotten sloppy, or perhaps too cocky and that was resulting in constant problems for him.

Stefan released a sigh, "But honestly, these little thieves are the lesser of our problems now"

Damon frowned as he went back to his seat, glass full of alcohol resting on his hand "Meaning?'"

Stefan's face darkened, a look Damon wasn't used to see often in his little brother's face "A psycho bitch of the FBI is behind us"

Damon nearly choked on his drink, his eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he stared at his brother "Excuse me?"

Stefan nodded, his sharp eyes staring right back at him "She's been to John's office twice now" He released a dark laugh, a scary little thing that made even Damon's blood run cold "She thinks she can have something to prove he's in bad dealings"

Damon took a hand to his temple and started massaging the vein that had started throbbing the minute his brother's words reached his ear "I want everything on her" He stated, "Name, address, family, hobbies, weird fetishes. Everything," He raised a finger in direction of his brother, a warning accompanied by the piercing glare of a murdered "And not a word to John"

"On it," Stefan said with a nod and his body seemed to finally relax. As if venting every issue to his big brother had somehow made the pressure ease inside him.

It wasn't unusual for the police to be sniffing behind their backs, they had to deal with them quite often, especially because both his mother and John liked to be public figures. But never once they had come across someone they couldn't buy or scare off, something in his brother's tone let him know this woman might not fit into any category, which would mean something more drastic had to be done.

Considering that with John's recent slackness, it was very likely he would make a mistake soon and she would be ready to pounce.

"Did you tell Grandpa, I love him and I'll be home visiting soon?" Stefan asked, worry lines disappearing from his face.

Damon rolled his eyes and gave his brother a mocking look "Of course I did after we got our nails and hair done"

"You're such ass"

"And you're such a pussy"

They both broke out in laughter and spend the rest of the evening making a reckoning of his trip to Colombia, of course, Damon left out a few details. He spent the afternoon holed up in downtown Manhattan with his brother, a part of him dreaded for the time when he would have to head back to the Gilbert's house and face Elena.

Damon Salvatore was the most feared man of the mafia and yet, there was a pair of brown doe eyes that could always make him tremble in fear.

It was long time past midnight when he came back to the house. The place was pitch dark and nothing could be heard except the howling wind that rustled the outside trees. Exhaustion had taken hold of him, his feet moved on auto-pilot as he climbed the stairs, he was so lost on himself that he didn't notice the girl sitting on top of the staircase until he was standing in front of her.

He was startled for a moment, but managed to compose himself in a matter of seconds "What the hell are you doing up?" He asked as he looked down at her.

She shrugged and raised her face towards him "I was waiting for you"

"To what end?"

She laughed sardonically before standing up, eyes ablaze as she looked at him "You can be such an ass sometimes" She muttered before turning around and heading in direction of her room.

Damon raked his hands through his hair in distress, the sight of her retreating back making something ache deep within his chest "No, no, wait!" He jogged the short distance and gripped her by the bicep to stop her from keep walking.

She spun around to face him, her eyes burned with fury and something akin to fear in them, "Did you kill someone?" She asked and once again managed to startle him that night.

His jaw clenched as he took that protective stance that tended to flare out when he was feeling threatened "I think that's a given"

"I mean in Colombia, when you left. Did you kill someone?"

Damon's face softened when he saw the underlying vulnerability that hid beneath her tough exterior. He had been away for too long now, he sometimes forgot that Elena wasn't him, that she still believed in the goodness of the world "You shouldn't ask questions if you really don't want to know the answer Bonita"

She nodded and he felt a pressure on his chest as he watched the way her lower lip trembled "Did you enjoy it?" She whispered "Or is it just duty?"

He almost wanted to lie to her. Her eyes were so hopeful, looking up at him as if his answer would somehow change the world for her and he never wanted anything more than being able to give her what she asked at that moment, but he didn't.

Because he was many things, but a liar wasn't one of them.

"Wrong question again Len" He chose to answer and saw the way her face fell at his words.

"Sometimes I fear you Damon" She confessed, the words seemed to rumble in the quietness of the house "I fear there's nothing in here" Her hand went to rest against his chest, right where his heart was beating.

The touch seemed to burn into his skin, the metaphor in her words twisted something deep in his gut "Maybe there isn't" He said at the same time he removed her hand from his chest "But if there's one person who should never be afraid of me, it's you Bonita" His hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb caressing her cheekbone with a gentle touch "I could never hurt you"

She smiled sadly at him "I think you believe that" She answered as she pulled away from him "But I'm not sure if it's the truth" Elena rose on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek swiftly "Goodnight Damon"

She turned around once again and disappeared around the hallway, her touch lingering on his skin and her words nailed in his heart.

Damon could barely sleep that night even though the tiredness had overwhelmed him through the whole day. He tossed and turned but every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face, filled with fear and disappointment, just as it had been that first time she saw him after his first killing, the same one she had the first time he took her with him.

When he woke up the next morning he felt even more tired than the night before, his eyes were bloodshot and pronounced bags had formed under his eyes. He was up with the sun and downed two double espressos before leaving the house, he felt wired and energized by the time he reached Central Park.

It was a beautiful morning, the weather wasn't as cold as previous days and a couple of birds chirped from the trees as he walked through the path that would take him where he wanted.

A light trench coat warmed his body and he walked with the hands inside the pockets, a couple of girls gifted him with looks and flirty smiles and he managed to respond in return. He always wondered what was it about him that made women dismiss the scars on his face, was it the power? The confidence he always carried around? Or was just the innate nature people had, to be drawn to dark things?

He was debating that subject in his mind when he realized he had reached his destination. The chorus of laughter and hushed conversations filling his ears as he stood there, his gaze looking for the man he knew was expecting him.

The dark-haired stranger was sitting in a black iron bench; his eyes were lit with joy as he watched the families share moments of happiness with each other. Damon had always liked him and was always awed at how such a dangerous man could appear the kindest of them all, masks were a tricky thing, he realized.

He approached the bench with slow steps, his eyes roaming his surroundings in the most casual of ways before he took a seat next to the man.

The smile on the stranger's mouth widened as he leaned back "Well hello, I was starting to think you wouldn't come" The thick accent made the words roll out of his tongue with such elegance Damon felt slightly jealous of him.

"I am not known for breaking my vows"

He chuckled "No, you are known for many other things, parca (reaper)"

"Things you want"

The other man sighed and made a show of straightening the tie around his neck "I don't deny your skills are of great interest for me, but there is something I want even more"

The stranger's farce darkened briefly and there Damon saw his first glimpse into 'The Red Lion' as people in their world called him, not for anything he was at the top of one of the most important criminal organizations in the world.

Damon nodded absently as he took his attention back to the civilian in front of them "And it shall be delivered"

The stranger shook his head, a spark of glee shone in his honeyed gaze as he spoke "I don't know what to think of you Damon" A hint of curiosity was present in his words "Everyone thinks so highly of you, and yet—here you are, biting the hand that fed you"

Damon rolled his eyes at the same time he leaned back on the bench, his legs stretched and carelessly crossed at the ankles "Don't get confused Benedict Cumberbatch" His tone was flippant and it made a slight smirk appear on the other man's lips "Nothing, I was given was given out of mercy. Mercy doesn't exist in this world"

"Indeed" The smile was gone out of the stranger's face in a blink "Which is why I know I can count on you, can't I not?"

"Have I failed you before?"

The stranger nodded and straightened up in his seat, his posture shifting until he was half facing him "You earned yourself a spot Damon" He said, an edge of darkness clouding his features "I'm vouching for you, so don't disappoint me"

"I wouldn't dream of it"

The stranger nodded once more before standing up and heading in the opposite direction Damon had come from. The blue-eyed man looked down at the spot the other man had vacated and saw a scrap of paper.

With the discretion years in the mob had shown him, he grabbed the offering and slipped into his jeans as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He remained in the park for a couple of minutes, trying to enjoy the sun or at least make people believe he was.

The board was set and the first piece had finally moved.

With a dark smile on his face, he stood up and went back in the direction he had come from, a flare in his step and a million thoughts swirling around in his head.