Sometimes when I close my eyes
I pretend I'm all right but it's never enough.
'Cause my echo, echo is the only voice coming back.
Elena didn't realize how Caroline even convinced her to move to Canada.
She had heard miscellaneous things about the reputable city of Toronto, but never actually visited it. It was apparently the country's financial and commercial centre, a multicultural area with tall, luxurious skyscrapers that frightened her to the bone.
Did she even belong there?
Ignoring the flirty looks the taxi driver was giving her, Elena scoffed in disgust and looked out of her window.
Her mother would have loved Toronto. Her father would nag about the expenses at first, but he would give in to Miranda Gilbert's adorable smile. Caroline would start screaming about the shops and the mesmerizing, meticulous parks while Liam would kiss her passionately the minute they stepped on the city's ground.
As for Jeremy...
Her mind didn't even allow her to think about Jeremy. Or where he was.
What mattered at the time was that she was alone. A solitary person in an utterly unknown town, heading for a mansion that belonged to two complete strangers. Millionaires, to be precise.
Taking a cigarette from her backpack, Elena opened the window of the taxi and puffed on it; her anxiety fundamentally decreased and she felt like breathing again. She decided on opening her phone, while the vehicle left the city centre and started to head for more isolated areas of Canada.
Google had various diverse results about the name 'Stefan Salvatore'. It seemed as if he was the dream husband and boyfriend of every woman, with his huge property, his attractive face- even Elena had to admit that his smile was way too luring- and his amazing, well sculpted body.
She was already sure that he was the good brother.
Her point was verified when she typed the name 'Damon Salvatore'. The results weren't as many, and most of the sites concerning him were business related. His face had always the same, indifferent tone as in the picture Caroline had shown her. It didn't give her good vibes or feelings.
She just hoped they wouldn't interact. The last thing she needed was talking to weird millionaires.
Her research was interrupted by a phone call, as Elena saw Liam's name and icon popping up on her screen. A smile decorated her face, already realizing how much she had missed him.
"Hey babe." she picked it up, glad to hear his voice.
"Did you get there, are you safe?" he asked from the other side of the line, and Elena smiled subtly. She hated this; she was not one for long distance relationships.
She was already missing everything.
"Yeah, I'm okay." she plainly stated, as she saw that taxi driver looking at her thighs through the mirror. She was tired of men checking her out, which pretty much happened everywhere, because so pretty a woman she was. "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here, Liam."
He laughed from the other line. "To be honest, I don't know either." his voice was soft and supportive and conveyed her sentiments of comfort and aplomb. "I wish you were here, in my arms."
"But..." he added quickly, "I love you, and being there is what's best for you. Okay?"
Elena puffed on her cigarette once again. Having someone who still loved her was so significant to her. "Okay." she answered.
"Okay." he repeated her words, nodding to himself. "I love you, hold on to that." he whispered before tempting to end the call.
"Wait" Elena told him, preventing him from doing so. "Promise that you'll call me every day. Every single day. I don't know how I'll survive without you there."
Elena heard him giggle again and it was such a comforting sound, like music to her. She had no idea how she was going to survive without him, his hugs and kisses. "Oh, I definitely will." he whispered and eventually ended the call.
Elena didn't know how the whole distance relationship would work out, but she was certain for one thing; she would never stop loving or cheat on Liam. Because her feelings for him were so profound and deep that nobody could overpower them. He was the one for her.
All the odds were in Liam's favor when it came to Elena.
She hadn't realized that she had reached her destination, though. The taxi came to a stop, startling her, as she was in a completely different territory. No, she wasn't surrounded by tall buildings anymore, nor shops or people.
She was in the countryside. Around her were trees and bushes- and flowers, colorful flowers, most of them daisies and lilies- and grass. She was standing before a gigantic mansion which literally had the size of a hotel, surrounded by a huge garden, full of beautiful trees and flowers and a luxurious pool.
She kept blinking while observing it.
And, suddenly, she felt more scared than ever before.
The central office of the Salvatore enterprises, located in the centre of Toronto, was indisputably one of the most extravagant and reputable buildings in town. Damon's office, of course, had the best view of the whole city; he could see every single inch of the crowded square and the every bit as congested national park from the 60th floor.
However, in his office, only one thing was dominant every day. His angry voice. His temper. His yelling at Andie. His curses. And on repeat.
"Tell the dick that I'm not giving him shit!" he screamed and his secretary, Andie, was instantly taken aback. "He's not fucking getting any money."
Frightened, her legs shaking at his furious figure, she whispered, "But mr. Stefan said-"
"I don't give a fuck about what Stefan said!" Damon furiously replied, his jaw clenched as he was sat on his leather armchair, dressed in a purple Gucci suit and matching tie. "I'll not invest any money in a fucking charity company!"
He looked so gorgeous but every bit as scary.
Andie really didn't want to reply, as Damon was always adamant and at the moment obviously furious; his eyes were burning and there had been a lot of time since she took her medication, which she desperately needed in order to keep up with his constant yelling. He was a really difficult person to deal with and being his assistant was irrefutably a marathon.
"Mr. Stefan told me to inform you..." she gulped in tension, "...that it will be good for... your status. He said he's already send part of the money."
A loud noise took over the room, as Andie watched Damon throwing his cup of coffee with force on the floor, the black liquid spreading all over the expensive marble. His hands ran through his hair and he covered his head in anger.
"Fuck. Fuck!" he yelled, taking a deep breath afterwards as he undid his tie in order to be able to breathe. Andie didn't even flinch. The only thing she wanted was get the hell out of that room.
Minutes passed and Damon didn't mutter a word. His hands still on his forehead, he was leaning on his majestic desk, trying to think.
If there was even anything to be thought about, anyway.
Because the only think Damon felt at the moment was anger and disrespect.
Ever since their father died and the Salvatore brothers inherited his huge property, Damon was the one that did all the business. Stefan was not like that at all; he always opted for spending a lot of time in the countryside, talking and interacting with people, and he also liked the fame. Stefan had always relished being admired, because he always alleged that he could change the world for the better.
Damon, on the other hand, didn't care about the world.
The world was too cruel to him, anyway.
Ever since all those money was transmitted to him, Damon was the one responsible for maintaining it. He took over the Salvatore enterprises; he made a name for himself and made the business one of the world's more successful.
At first, he used to be a relationship guy. But time grew to teach him that money and happiness do not go together and most people attempted to take advantage of that.
He fell in love twice in his life, but the world didn't care about him then either.
And that's why Damon started to hate it.
Not muttering a word, he nodded Andie to leave his office and she gladly obeyed, closing the door behind her, noticing Damon's clenched jaw, who was still trying to contain his temper after a quarter or so.
Once the blonde left, Damon slowly stood up from his leather armchair.
Closing his eyes for a second, he turned towards the window besides him.
The sheer window in the size of the wall was so massive that he could take in every subtle detail of the city beneath him.
Damon observed the hoards of people walking around in the city square. Even though their clothes were cheap, their wallets almost empty and the fast food they held utterly cheap, they still had grins on their faces and laughed while talking to one another. The kids in the park were naughtily running and playing around the grass of the park next to the square; so peaceful, so serene, so tranquil.
They were happy. Even though they lacked what he had, they were happy.
And Damon hated them.
Every single one of them.
When Elena eventually took the courage to enter the territory of the mansion, she could not fathom the place she was in. As though it was plagiarized from a movie, Elena walked through the narrow path leading from the capacious garden to the entrance of the building, observing the miscellaneous, colorful flowers, bushes and trees and the numerous gardeners that took meticulous care of them.
The pool in the front of the main building was huge, and Elena felt jealousy running in her veins for a subtle second. She would never have any of this. She was born to be a slave, an unfortunate human being and she'd always be.
The main building was colossal, majestic, and its size was identical to a big bank. Its architecture, furthermore, was remarkable to say the least. Striking, decorative columns with beautiful patters were supporting it, reminding her of an ancient greek masterpiece.
On the entrance, a guard was waiting for her, signaling her to get in the interior of the house.
Nothing would have expected her for the spectacle. The living room across her was huge, capacious and above everything, so lavish and extravagant that she had to hold her breath in order to observe it. Marble, white floors, utterly priceless furniture, couches and technological devices, all of them decorated with golden, white, rose and silver details.
After some seconds, an elegant, well dressed woman approached her, a small, yet beautiful smile on her face. She was a brunette, with beautiful eyes that stared into her own. "Hello, Elena, welcome to the Salvatore mansion. I'm Nora and I'm responsible for the maids. "
Elena looked at Nora's outfit; a black skirt that reached just below her knees, along with a plain, white shirt, indicating that she was a professional, taking her job very seriously. "If you ever need something you should come to me, okay?" she added and Elena nodded, devoting all of her attention to her.
Nora continued speaking, her tone formal and serious, conveying her sentiments of fear. "We have some rules here, Elena. It's vital that you comply with them." she stated firmly.
"Of course", she sternly replied. She was anxious, Nora could tell.
Nora's look took a more solemn expression, indicating Elena ought to pay a lot of attention to what she was about to say.
"First rule: you don't talk or interact with the Salvatores unless they tell you so."
Elena nodded. That wouldn't be difficult at all. The last thing she wanted anyway was to chit chat with that Damon guy. Of course the millionaires that owned the mansion did not care about the maids, and that facilitated her cause. All she wanted was the salary and her peace and quiet.
Nora continued. "Rule number two: the second and the third floor are forbidden for the prevalent maids, unless you are instructed otherwise."
That would be a less easy since she was always the one who was wandering around her house since she was a toddler, adventurous and naughty as she always was, but she nodded anyway. That Nora woman was kind of intimidating and Elena wanted over with their conversation.
"Rule number three: you always wear your uniform when you're on duty. You're also not allowed to leave your room during the night. Your room includes a bathroom, food, water and basically all you need to get through the night."
Nora smiled a little at her again, but that didn't ease the pain of anxiety in Elena's stomach. She needed a cigarette. "I know it will be hard for you to adapt at first, but I'm sure that your roommate and the other maids will help you. I'm here too if you need anything."
"Thank you." Elena replied, smiling subtly as well. "Roommate?" she wondered.
"Yes, roommate." Nora answered. "The rooms for the prevalent maids are in the basement and consist of two beds, so you have to share yours with someone. She's already waiting for you in the room 34, if I'm not mistaken."
Elena nodded one last time, muttering 'thank you', as she grabbed the suitcase next to her and started walking towards the basement. Even the stairs screamed money. The red, soft carpet beneath her feet cost more than her entire life.
The underground level of the mansion was architecture wise alternating from the first floor, but that didn't mean that it wasn't the same level of extravagant. It was consisted of long corridors, decorated with beautiful, renaissance type of paintings and wonderful, meticulous patterns. The doors were big and white, their handles having details of gold and silver.
The room with the number 34 was deep inside the floor, but Elena found it quite effortlessly. Opening the door, she widened her eyes at the spectacle before her.
Her room was consisted of two tall, apparently soft beds, with beautiful sheets and quilts on them. A big, capacious closet, two armchairs, a sofa, a table, a relatively state of the art television, a mirror and what seemed to be a bathroom. The walls had a beautiful, rose gold hue and Elena noticed quickly that the room had no balcony, but was solely illuminated by a small window across her.
She was also rapid to notice the girl lying on one of the beds, smiling hospitably to her as she entered the room. Her skin was dark, just like her hair and eyes, and her smile reassured her from the very first minute that her roommate was good hearted.
"That was my exact same reaction when I first got here." she laughed, looking at Elena's awe stricken expression.
Elena smiled hesitantly at her. "Life is unfair."
"Oh, it sure is." the girl laughed, standing up and approaching Elena. Standing before her, Elena noticed that she was a tad shorter than her. The adorable girl offered her hand to her, and Elena didn't hesitate to shake it. She already liked her
"I'm Bonnie." the girl said. "You must be Elena, Caroline has told me so many things about you! I asked to Nora to make you my roommate before you got here."
"Really?" Elena said in surprise, grinning now. "So you're Caroline's friend that got me hired?"
"I guess so." Bonnie answered, returning to her bed and falling back on it in a playful way. Elena made some steps into the room and closed the door behind her, glad that her roommate was likeable. Sitting on her own mattress, she came quickly to the realization that it was the softest mattress she had ever touched.
Lying back on it, she looked at Bonnie with an expression of amazement. "If these are the maids' rooms, I wonder how their rooms look like."
Bonnie giggled. "You mean the Salvatores' right? Well, I've never been to the second floor, but I know that their rooms have the size of half a floor. They're huge."
Bonnie was apparently a talkative, extrovert person, in contrast to her, who rarely opened up to people anymore. However, Elena knew that they could easily become friends. Bonnie seemed very loyal and trustworthy and she already relished her time with her.
"Sage has told us," Bonnie continued, "that Stefan's room is kind of simple, with a lot of musical instruments, bookshelves and plants. Well, mr. Damon's looks like a fucking palace according to her."
"Sage?" Elena asked.
"Oh, she's mr. Damon's personal maid. She and Valerie, Stefan's one, have single rooms on the second floor. I don't like either of them to be honest. Sage especially is a bitch. She's been trying to get in mr. Damon's pants for years."
Elena giggled and scoffed shortly after. "Does she seriously believe that a millionaire would sleep with her?"
Bonnie furrowed her eyebrows. "Depends."
Elena shook her head, indicating Bonnie to explain what she meant, utterly confused.
"Well," Bonnie said. "Stefan has had relationships and slept with some of the maids here. He's the crush of pretty much everyone. He's so sweet and handsome and he talks to us, he's even friends with some of us. You'll see he's the best. If I was straight, I would be so in love with him."
Elena smiled at her. Stefan had seemed very generous to her, and she was surprised and simultaneously glad that it was actually true.
"Damon is an asshole." Bonnie continued, taking a disgusted expression. "He never talks to us, unless he needs something and he's rude as fuck… He's like super hot, but there's something seriously wrong with his head. He only cares about money."
Elena nodded. "I've seen pictures. He doesn't look kind."
Bonnie scoffed. "Because he's not. I once brought him the wrong temperature of tea and he almost kicked me out of here."
Elena smiled at her, giggling shortly after. "Asshole."
"Tell me about it." Bonnie answered, liking Elena as well. Reminiscing, the girl looked at Elena before saying, "Caroline told you that I have tobacco allergy, right? Smoke gives me allergies."
Elena was startled for a minute, but then remembered that Caroline was behind all of this. Of course she would do everything in her power to prevent her from smoking. "She didn't." Elena said, internally pissed. "I will smoke in the morning in the garden, it's okay."
"Thanks." Bonnie said.
Elena really liked Bonnie and wanted to share a room with her. Thus, for the next few hours and since it was Sunday, the two of them lied on their beds, bonded and talked about miscellaneous stuff; their experiences, their relationships, their friends.
It felt good finally talking to someone who caused her to smile.
The pitch black night came quickly, as Damon Salvatore had already returned to his mansion and, unbothered, to his room.
Damon's bedroom was nothing like a prevalent one. It was a little palace, fully equipped with valuable furniture, golden chairs, silk curtains, sheets and quilts, marble tiles and precious, vintage, dark walls. Its colors were solely dark and gold, just like his soul, in a way.
Silently sitting by the hot fireplace, Damon Salvatore, with his laptop on his lap, was occupying an isolated, petite corner of the room. The black coffee next to him, the substitution for the one he'd thrown down in his office that morning, was ensuring that he wouldn't be able to sleep that night.
As if he ever fully slept, anyway.
He was exhausted. Exhausted of shouting and yelling to every single person that questioned him or his will, exhausted of the judgmental looks he received from the people around him, the indication and verification that he was a terrible human being.
Checking the monthly statistical report of his company's profits, Damon was hardly satisfied. He could do way better, he knew he could. And if not, he would do anything in his power to achieve his aim.
"A true man must do everything in his power to get what he pleases, Damon. Nobody or nothing should prevent him from achieving his goal."
Damon nodded to himself. He would do anything to keep this company alive. After all, it was all he had left. His fucking money.
Contemplating the amount of staff he was going to fire in order to economize, his door knocked twice. No, he wouldn't deal with his brother that day.
"Do yourself a favor and don't step in here, brother." he stated furiously, utterly mad at him. "Go to your fucking charity if you want to, but not here."
However, his door, slowly and hesitantly opened, revealing numerous golden locks and a contained smile, as Olivia's impeccably sculpted figure made its entrance into the room.
"Surprise?" she giggled with an awkward expression, frowning at the spectacle of Damon being focused on his work. "It's so late, why are you still working?" she questioned, making her way towards him with petite but suddenly more confident steps.
"Because I want to?" he retorted, never leaving his eyes off the screen. Olivia slowly approached him and winked at his sat figure, as she positioned herself meticulously behind him. Bringing her hands on the crook of his neck, she started tenderly massaging his shoulders. "My boyfriend is working and he's so tired, what can I do about that?" she smirked playfully, bringing her lips to his neck and kissing it.
"Liv..." he whispered, before feeling her lips whispering sensually into his ear. "Maybe I could... distract him?" she said, as her hands travelled to the lower of his back and eventually reached his waist, grasping the fabric of his white shirt.
The temperature was scorching and Olivia soon achieved her goal, as they both started to heavily make out by the fireplace. Their relationship was just that; sex until they were both on their edge. And Damon never complained. On the contrary, he cherished sleeping with her, he always got pleasure. The fact of the matter was, however, that the pleasure lasted during sex and crumbled into dust shortly after.
As he was forcefully taking off her Victoria Secret underwear, that masculine voice kept repeating into his head.
"A true man must do everything in his power to get what he pleases, Damon. Nobody or nothing should prevent him from achieving his goal."
And that was the pleasure he would eventually obtain. Money. Power. Because nobody could hurt him as long as he had them. They were honestly like walls to Damon. The more the power, the higher those walls were. And the higher they were, the harder was to knock them down.
Taking off his underwear, he felt nothing, absolutely nothing. His body was moving, but his mind was elsewhere; on the exact same spot, but at another point of time and with the body of another woman beneath him. And at that time, he felt everything. Every single bit of anxiety, love and passion running through his veins.
Olivia's moans were not hers, though. Neither was her body.
Don't blame him, Olivia Parker was a gorgeous woman; tall, fit, pretty, smart and rich, the dream of every man. But for some eerie reason he could not identify with her.
Hours later, Olivia was peacefully and heavily sleeping by his side on the soft mattress, as her breath was softly hitting his skin. Damon was not asleep, though, not it in the least.
He hardly ever slept, anyway.
"Fuck." we whispered, his eyes open wide and focused on the dark ceiling, reminiscing of her again. He knew that he shouldn't, but he couldn't control it either. It hit him like a current of memories, and Damon felt like drowning in it.
"Fuck." Katherine whispered, her eyes open wide and focused on the dark ceiling. "You are good at this."
Gasping for air, Damon looked at her flawless face. He couldn't fathom how beautiful Katherine Pierce was; her smile, her personality and, most importantly, the way she could make him feel within a snap of her fingers.
He didn't even reply to her- he couldn't even believe that she had eventually given herself to him, and their first time was surpassing every fantasy. He was already desperately in love with her.
With a look of wonder, he observed her, as she stood up from the mattress. Her body completely nude and revealed to his stare, Katherine walked around his room with slow, curious steps. Her soft fingers touched the surface of every single dark, wooden piece of furniture, from his old piano to the armchairs, and she finally positioned herself on the old, black couch.
Damon finally knew what happiness felt like. She was everything he ever wanted.
Incapable of stopping looking at her, Katherine noticed and smirked at him. Her fingers touched the edge of the sofa and drew invisible circles on it; she knew she was driving him crazy.
"You know..." she said with a playful tone, "you have all this money now, why do you keep all those pieces of old furniture?"
Damon froze as she looked at him with a cynical tone, the smirk never leaving her face and she added, "Maybe it's because they remind you of E-"
"-you know that's not true." he cut her off fast and her smirk widened, her eyes glowing with excitement.
"Well..." she answered, "Why don't you change it then? I was thinking of something, golden? Maybe golden and black?" she stated, making her way back to him, licking her lips as she winked at him.
And of course, a touch of hers was enough for him to give in, so blinded in love as he was.
Who was he to resist an angel?
Looking at the ceiling, Damon finally knew that there were no such things as angels. In the world he was born, there were only devils, deceivers, and frauds. And if he wanted to survive, he had to be one of them- even better than them.
His room was too much for him to handle. He needed fresh air. And deep down, Damon knew he wanted to punish himself for his naive choices in life.
Starting with Katherine.
Carefully not to wake up Olivia, Damon stood on his feet and wore his boxers, before throwing his silk, blue robe on his bare body. No, he was not going to get drunk at a random rich party that night, his past was haunting him and solely drinking couldn't cure that.
He grabbed a bottle of rare bourbon from his collection and started gulping, as he slowly walked towards the heavy door and, careful not to make any sound, got out of it. Stefan was definitely asleep and so were the staff and the maids, and Damon was glad that for once in his life he didn't have to deal with the burden of people surrounding and staring at him.
Someone was always staring at him; for his looks, his money, his fame.
He was sick of it.
Elena couldn't sleep.
No matter how many times she tossed and turned on her brand new, velvetlike mattress, sleep seemed impossible and unachievable to her.
Not without a cigarette, at least.
Had she known that she couldn't smoke in her own room, she probably would not have accepted the job in the first place. Cigarettes were her relief, the cure to her depression and her means of tranquility; as an addict, Elena was dependent on them.
That might also be an understatement, because she was literally over dependent on them.
She decided on not resisting her reality anymore and accept the fact that she could not survive without the sentiment of nicotine running through her vines, and slowly- yet hesitantly- stood up from the bed.
She couldn't smoke in her room. Bonnie was allergic and she apparently wouldn't risk her health for her own, selfish reasons. She had to go elsewhere, but simultaneously not get herself in trouble.
She couldn't get fired, she couldn't allow it. At least not now.
Not now that she was surrounded by riches. Elena was never destitute, but never had above average income either. And after her parents died, the money Caroline lent her was no more than the vital; hardly enough to buy good cigarettes or drinks.
This was her chance to finally have a satisfying life.
And also she had promised Caroline she'd stay in the mansion for at least a month. Caroline would be happy if she achieved that. Liam would be happy. And she would have her cigarettes.
Wearing her favorite black velvet jacket, the one had seen in a window three years ago and wouldn't shut up about, so Liam had no other choice but to buy it for her, she carefully and hesitantly opened her door, making sure she didn't wake Bonnie up and noticing how dark the corridor was outside.
The other maids were apparently better-behaved than her, but Elena couldn't help it. She was always the curious, naughty girl, and at the moment her sense of adventure in combination with her deprivation of cigarettes were dominating her.
The corridor was dark and relatively cold, and Elena covered her petite waist with her hands in order to walk past it. The doors around her were closed and no voice could be discriminated from their interior, meaning that every maid was asleep- all but one.
Careful in order to step lightly, Elena reached the luxurious escalator, her fingers united with its marble surface. She shivered- the marble baluster was cold. And at that precise moment, she hesitated. Was it worth the risk? The soft, red rug below her bare feet was soft and tantalizing, while Elena could already distinct the sound of a big clock's hands ticking.
Tic toc.
Elena took a deep breath as she went up the stairs, looking cautiously around her. The breathtaking living room was fortunately vacant- and how couldn't it at such time of the day- but Elena couldn't risk smoking there. Someone could walk by at any second and it would be naive from her part if she opted for that.
She took a breath as she went up the scales once again.
The floor she reached was utterly unbeknownst to her, but Elena could easily figure out by the size of the walls that Damon's and Stefan's rooms were in it, as Bonnie had said. A room in that floor had the size of her whole house thrice, and Elena wondered again how their rooms looked like. Probably like palaces.
Such a shame she would never find that out.
Not wanting to get caught but any of the two extremely powerful men, Elena went up the stairs once again.
The upper floor was way darker than all the other ones. And way more intimidating. Elena instantly knew that she shouldn't be there.
It was dark and she could not figure out anything, but the furniture she could discern and touch were not like the others; every single object in that floor was not decorated with golden or silk details. She touched some of the surfaces, figuring out that everything was wooden, black, obsolete. And dusty.
So dusty that it was apparent that no maid was allowed to clean it or even be on that floor.
Elena shivered. She shouldn't be in here.
On the other hand, however, she knew that nobody would find her up there. Who would be in a dirty dark floor at that time of the day?
Nodding to herself, Elena's feet stepped on the new floor. Its tiles were not marble; they were wooden and did a spooky sound as Elena's toes came into contact with them. She hesitantly made some steps deeper, towards an unknown direction. She couldn't discern anything into the pitch darkness, but still, she determinedly walked further until she could see nothing.
Nothing at all. Darkness. Loneliness.
Elena didn't waste any further time. Her palm travelled into her pocket and grabbed her pack of red Marlboros, along with a miniscule lighter- and instantly lit it.
Elena couldn't see anything, but at the moment the stick was united with her lips, she was not daunted anymore. She eventually felt like breathing again; all of her pain and worry went away in an instant and she felt like herself again.
She didn't plan on staying there for long. She took drags rapidly, her eyes closed, as her nostrils were filled with the unpleasant smell, which, however, was odoriferous for her.
She thought of Liam's hands around her body. His soft breath into her ear and his lips on the crook of her neck. She thought of his palms driving all over her body, of his own body above hers on his bed back home. She needed that desperately.
The smoke was thick and her deep thoughts led to her losing track of time, and Elena found herself lighting another cigarette.
She started thinking about her parents. Of the times she would sneak into their bedroom when she felt lonely and felt safe into their warm embrace. Jeremy would as well from time to time. Especially when he had those scary nightmares or had thunders. Elena remembered cuddling with him until late at night, syncing her own breath with his own.
And suddenly, she was dizzy. She was weak, and above everything, she was angry.
The one cigarette she was supposed to smoke had turned into four, and her sorrow and despair had become an overwhelming wave of fury.
She couldn't help it.
Why did all of that crap have to occur to her? What did she do to deserve that mess? And why the hell did she have to work in a mansion to make a living? She hated it- all of it.
She even hated the cigarettes. The drinking. Her razor blade.
But she couldn't help it either.
The smoke around her was thick and it made her giddy, and Elena felt like passing out. Supporting herself on one of the wooden armchairs, her butt softly positioned on its edge, she subtly felt like being back home. In her petite, messy apartment, smoking all day long without caring about absolutely nothing. A blank, a void, a never ending nightmare.
"Katherine?" a soft, male voice whispered from afar, however, taking her aback. She couldn't think straight, as dizzy as she was, but she could figure out that someone had seen her- in a place she shouldn't even be at in the first place.
"Shit", she whispered under her breath, as she heard footsteps approaching her. The room was pitch black, but she could hardly discern a figure coming towards her way.
She was so fired.
Elena couldn't think, but her first instinct was to run. Run away, while she had the chance. If she was lucky enough she could evade the person.
"Katherine?" the voice repeated, louder this time, cracking. He was closer to her- Elena could feel it. She had to run, and rapidly. Supporting herself on her two feet, her instinct led her to walk fast towards an unknown direction.
Her lighter fell on the floor as she did so and her rapid walking soon transformed into jogging, as Elena ran into the darkness, dizzy and utterly lost.
It all happened so fast and unfortunate for her. A loud bump onto one of the furniture, probably a couch, and Elena had fallen on the floor with a loud bump. The distinctive sound of a switch turning on, and a small lamp opening to reveal a figure standing across her.
The pain on her right knee was acute, and Elena would under normal circumstances cry and scream, but she was concentrated elsewhere. The light was dim, but she could clearly see the man standing across her. With a bottle of bourbon in his hands, he gulped from it, intently looking at her as he did so.
But the most frightening thing was that she knew who that man was.
And if her distorted mind wasn't playing games with her, across her was Damon Salvatore.
Taking a second gulp without muttering a word, Elena looked at him, as she slowly raised her head at him. He was definitely good looking at the photographs, but seeing him in person was a whole new experience.
He was wearing a silk, blue robe, and it wasn't difficult for her to take notice of his impeccable, glowing skin. Sculpted, perfectly shaped body ending to sturdy shoulders and arms. His lips were rose and glistering, as he was drinking the content of the bottle, and his eyes...
When she looked into his eyes, she felt it. The fear. They were mesmerizing, beautiful and cerulean blue, but every bit as daunting. The way he was looking at her was just enough to make her tremble.
"Isn't this convenient?" he said after some time, his voice soft but sarcastic, as he took another sip of the substance. "Even my fucking maids don't listen to me."
Elena felt so weak under his stare. He was literally talking to her; one of the most reputable and well-known millionaires of the world. The one she was specifically scared of before she got there.
How ironic was that?
"I'm..." she whispered, subtly closing her eyes because of the pain and her terrible headache, "I'm sorry."
The millionaire before her didn't even flinch though. His jaw clenched, his eyes wide open, he looked down to her with an expression that indicated... disgust.
He bit his lips before taking another sip. "Do you fucking think that your apologies are of any importance?"
A look at him or a sound of the manner he was talking was enough for Elena to verify her point. Damon was cold, impolite and at the moment, definitely drunk. Elena could figure it out effortlessly by the tremor of his toes and fingers, by the crack of his voice. She'd been there miscellaneous times, she knew that sensation.
She shook her head at him. "I didn't have where to smoke, I'm sorry. My roommate is allergic."
He smiled ironically at her, "then what the fuck about not smoking at all?"
Trying not to flinch or look intimidated by him, like her dad always taught her, Elena had to take responsibility for her actions. No, Elena wasn't one for crying. She was the one who always punished herself in order not to do so.
"You're right, sir." she said dauntlessly, looking at him, staring deep into his eyes. "I shouldn't be here. I will go back to my room and sorry for bothering you."
Damon didn't even nod, however. Staring at her, he scanned her from head to toe with a judgmental and cynical look, not the one she was used to be given by men. Sure, he was rich and had every right to be mad at her, but Elena knew how to distinguish good people. And Damon Salvatore was certainly not one of them.
"Good." he muttered, turning his back at her, starting to leave the floor. "I expect you to be sent back home by tomorrow."
Elena nodded to herself, expecting it. Nothing good ever happened to her, and if luck was never in her favor. She should have known that.
In second thought, maybe it was for the best, anyway. Yes, she wouldn't have extra money or an income, but her life was horrible anyway. She would be in Liam's arms tomorrow and all of this would be an old, misty memory. Especially after a few times of getting high.
The light was dim, and as Elena was sat on the cold floor, she could catch sight of Damon leaving, without even looking back at her.
"Ehm..." she whispered, causing him to stop in his tracks, his shoulders fallen and his drink still in his hand. "Maybe I could have a second chance?"
She heard another laugh springing from his mouth, an evil laugh that caused goosebumps to appear on her skin. "Honey, I don't do second chances."
She nodded again, not a bit surprised by his behavior. She didn't like him and at the moment, Bonnie's words came to her memory, that he is a typical asshole that only cares about money. She had met hoards of people like him, and Damon seemed the type of the man that had no mercy for anyone- especially for insignificant, mediocre people like her.
"Ehm." she interrupted again, already getting on his nerves, "Could you give me a hand then? I hurt my knee, I can't stand up."
She was sure he heard her, but Damon didn't move an inch. On the contrary, he started walking towards the opposite direction once again. "Hello?" she repeated, earning a scoff from him.
"No way, I'm not touching you." he replied, not even stopping to look back at her.
Elena was starting to get really annoyed now. "And how the fuck am I supposed to stand up?"
"Not my problem." he answered sharply, already far from her.
Elena was dizzy and his insensitive, typical asshole behavior aroused her sentiments of annoyance, which easily transformed into anger. She was fired, hurt and he had no right to treat her with such hostility. Money or no money, he was still a human being.
"You don't have to be that much of a dick, you know." she said louder, angry at his impolite behavior.
The sound of the footsteps stopped, as Elena saw him stopping in his tracks. Damon's face shifted, as he furrowed his eyebrows.
Nobody ever insulted him.
Ever since Katherine got out of his life and those walls were erected, nobody dared to insult him- they all always wanted something from him. Listening to someone actually honestly speaking was something abnormal to him- he was shocked to say the least.
Elena heard the sound of the wooden tiles cracking louder from second to second, as Damon started walking back towards her with slow steps.
In absolutely no time, he was standing across her once again, looking at her with a surprised expression, which really baffled Elena. His lips formed a wide smirk, as he looked at her and with startled eyes, said, "Did you just talk back to me?"
Nobody ever did that- maybe sometimes Stefan. But Damon was a man of power; nobody ever insulted or simply talked back to him, he was the one who always did so. People usually looked up to him or simply kept their mouths shut, even if they wholeheartedly despised him.
She raised her shoulders, as she winked at him ironically. "Not my problem."
Damon's amazed and taken aback expression was something uncustomary, even to him; for an instant, Elena enjoyed it. She had spent a short amount of time with him but she was sure that she already hated him and his behavior.
His eyes travelled to her body for the very first time, and Elena felt a peculiar sensation as he did so. His look was consuming, and when his eyes landed on hers, she felt something new.
It must be fear, right?
She didn't expect him to start approaching her, however. Elena froze on the floor, as Damon Salvatore starting moving towards her, slowly, leaning down across her on the floor.
He was so close to her, and Elena felt his fresh breath heating against her cold skin, as goosebumps appeared on it. Under the dim light, she could see everything; every single distinctive characteristic of his gorgeous face. He was handsome, she couldn't deny it, but why did that matter when he was an absolute monster?
But, would he really help her to stand up? His hand immediately went towards the lower of her back, and Elena felt it soon after next to her thigh, causing a cold shiver to run down her spine. Her vision was blurry, but she could see the smirk that had formed again on his face as he got away from her once again.
"What the hell?" she told him in annoyance, observing the packet of her cigarettes that was previously in the pocket of her jacket, now in his free palm. "You have no right to take my stuff?"
"Do I?" he said sarcastically, shaking his head at her stupidity. "I own you, honey. Those cigarettes are mine." he added, as he grabbed a stick from the packet and grabbed Elena's lighter from the floor, lighting it up.
He started leaving again.
"I freaking hate you!" Elena shouted, earning a smirk from him. He didn't believe he was having a conversation of this sort with a maid. "You fired me, they're mine! Also you didn't even help me to stand up!"
"You stink?" he shouted back at her, a few meters away from the stairs now.
"Asshole!" she answered, wrapping her hands around her head that started hurting indefinitely.
She got no response, he had apparently left. And Elena was still on that floor.
So that was the infamous Damon Salvatore, a gorgeous man that looked like an angel, but was nothing like it. But that was not her main concern at the moment.
What would she tell Caroline? That she got fired because she acted like an immature brat on her very first day? She wouldn't repay her and her dreams of having her own money were in absolute vain.
"Well done, Elena." she whispered, as she wrapped her arms on the furniture around her, trying to support herself in order to stand up.
Damon sat down on his bed again, finishing his cigarette. It was honestly so long since he last did one, but at the moment, he needed it. Olivia was still sleeping peacefully next to him, but he was too surprised to think about her or anything else.
What was that? Yes, he was mad that people disrespected him, but that was on a whole new level. That fucking maid had gotten on his nerves.
What was wrong with him, though? He never really talked to his maids, so what urged him to have a whole conversation with that girl up there? She had broken his rules and secretly hid to the place that meant most to him, but he wondered why he did not get furious as he normally would.
And above it all, why did he sort of like it? He had absolutely no idea who that girl was, her name, where she was from and how long she worked for him, but she was deviating from the others. Yes, she was beautiful, with dark, straight brown hair and mesmerizing eyes, but nothing special. However, her temperament was something else; something confusing and even daunting for him. New.
She was just one of those poor, pathetic maids.
Was he becoming pathetic if he kept thinking about her that night?
heyy
I literally wrote 8k words, bc I was so inspired and I already love this book. Damon and Elena finally met and I'm so excited bc there's a lot to come… Trust me, it won't be easy.
Elena also arrived at the mansion and met Bonnie, who I absolutely love and have big plans for. The next chapter will be an introduction to stelena and I can't wait to post it.
I've read all of your reviews and you guys are so kind and supportive, your advice really helps me to improve.
Please give me feedback for this chapter bc I'm so insecure about my writing and want to know whether y'all liked it!
Thanks for reading and I'll post as quickly as i can!