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Here's the next chapter!


Working with Julian and a few other cheap no namers had never compared to the stakes she was facing now, Elena quickly realized.

Damon had been right, and though she despised the thought of using it, she was grateful to have a weapon for protection hanging off of her leg.

The target location Alaric had brought her to was not exactly what she had imagined, despite having seen the layout on screen.

She knew the building was owned by an institution called Augustine that she vaguely recalled Julian mentioning in passing, who were clearly big money.

Their storage center though, operated beneath a lab which required ID access.

Two guards stood just beyond the glass doors, talking to each other as she'd guess they did every night; their hands swinging near their gun belts.

The plan was to avoid those two.

Knowing that Alaric was somewhere in the shadows, keeping an eye on things, gave her the boost of confidence she needed to pretend this was just like any other extraction.

She strapped the small pack of gear that she needed onto her back and planned out her course based on what she had learned from the computer program.

The cameras oscillated, but there was a pattern, allowing her to sneak through and around their view, until she was glued so tightly to the wall at the side of the building, she might as well be a part of it.

Using the night as a cover, Elena slinked along, staying out of sight until she reached the predetermined destination.

A back emergency exit that would scream loudly if she was not careful unlocking it.

With the skill of having years to practice, she whipped the tools she needed from inside the bag and got to work.


"And you dare to insult me this way?"

Damon was sitting comfortably in his chair, leaning back with a casual expression as he awaited the lies that were about to be given to him.

Sure enough, Dianne Freeman, a sharp minded woman who was an acting Chairman for the Augustine administration, jumped right in.

"Of course not, Mr. Salvatore. It was not our intentions to offend you. We were simply exploring all of our options."

"I was not speaking to you," he reminded her, polite as they like, and focused on the smartly dressed man sitting to her left, "My question was for the good doctor."

The institution's CEO, Richard Augustine, was well into his seventies, and funded the entire operation that his family had started generations back.

He and his wife were both in attendance tonight, though the latter had sat quietly through the first course, and appeared to be a simple decoration, as Elena's twin was at his side.

Katherine was acting her part well, showing her face and flashing smiles, but not drawing too much attention.

Stefan sat close to her on the opposite side, for safety, but the whole of the dinner so far had been focused on Damon's semi feigned agenda.

"So how about it, Dick," he glowered, moving on with the point, "Any explanations as to why you are involving the Whitmore family in our arrangments?"

Richard was walking around with a cane these days, but his lack of physical endurance did nothing to dull the sharpness of those grey eyes.

"It's not personal, Salvatore, it's business. Simple as that," the man said slowly, "An...associate of the family came to the board to propose a deal that could cut costs for my organization. It would have been ill advised not to hear him out."

"The board did not know that you had a vendetta with the family," Dianne cut in once more, and nudged the other present member, Markos Barsoumian, to back her statement.

Markos had been quiet thus far, his eyes drifting from Damon to his comrades, but he spoke now in defense of his boss, "Of course we did not. Nor did Dr. Augustine."

Dianne nodded, "We would have advised against the meeting otherwise. Our meaning was not to upset you-"

"Upset me?" Damon turned his full attention to the woman, who cowered back into her seat, "Darling, this is not upset. If it were, I would have skipped the unpleasantness of this dinner and gotten the answers I desire in a much more creative manner."

As she recoiled at his insinuation, Damon chuckled and glanced back at the doctor, "Do you always allow your employees to speak for you?"

"They are only stating facts," Richard insisted, "The Salvatores have always been an established connection to the Italian trade and I would not like to falter on that arrangement. However, it is not good business to ignore the possibility of other profitable relationships."

Unlike his minions, Dr. Augustine had been a part of this game too long to be intimidated by mere threat, and Damon would have admired the man's backbone, deteriorated as it may be, if he were not so annoyed.

"You mean you are getting greedy," he inclined and rested an arm across the back of "Katalena"'s chair.

His peripheral caught a flash of those brown eyes as they flickered over at him, but he did not return the regard.

In doing so, he was able to pretend it was not the twin with him, but Elena.

And if she was here, close enough that his fingers could brush the edge of her arm, then she was not in danger and he could focus on the job at hand.

She needed him to focus.

"Price cutting means diluted production," he reminded the elder, "And a lack of quality breeds dangerous results for the consumers. How long do you think it will take for your clientele to turn elsewhere for their needs? Perhaps I will be there to aid them."

While threats of impending torture had gotten nowhere with the doctor, the idea of losing buyers was apparently more daunting.

"But you run the import," Richard exclaimed in a hushed tone, "Not distribution! You would change that just to spite me?"

Damon smirked, "Nothing personal, mio amico. It is just good business."

It was with perverse satisfaction that he watched as Dr. Augustine turned redder than the sauce on his chicken parmigiana, which sat nearly untouched on the plate in front of him.

Not that the food was unpleasant, for such an expensive knockoff of his heritage, with herbs more bland and a sad medigan Italia decor.

There was even a shining chandelier.

However that was easy to ignore as grey eyes searched Damon's face, trying to decide whether or not he was bluffing.

And those minions were just as lost, glancing nervously to their boss.

Finally, the doctor let out a huffy breath, "If I turn down the Whitmore's offer, you and I are square? Things can continue on as they have always been?"

Damon pretended to think it over, "As much as I would like to agree with that, we have a problem here, Dick. You have lost my trust, and frankly, have also shown me that I do not particularly need you."

Those dentures grit together as the man grinded his jaw, "I asked for a period of consideration from the Whitmore's. I came to this meeting willingly. I have told you I will decline them. What more could be needed to prove my allegiance?"

This little cat and mouse game was spiraling to a close, and Damon had the vermin right where it was needed…

But Alaric had not texted. Which meant Elena was not yet safe.

He had to stall a little longer.

"How about a forty percent cut of your profit," he threw out, and was rewarded with paling faces, "Unless of course, you can make a compelling enough argument to lower the price of continuing our partnership?"


It was amazing what a good plan paired with impeccable skills could do.

Elena had followed the procedure that she, Damon, and Alaric had mapped out to perfect execution, and was now exactly where she needed to be.

Opening the safety lock box on the basement level of Augustine Institution's Lab and Research Facility.

She had gotten lucky that the SentrySecure had a keyhole beneath it's combo code locking mechanism.

Though maybe it wasn't too surprising; Augustine's security was clearly based on the building itself, rather than the storage box.

She'd had to break through two doors, a security scanner, and an intertwining ventilation system just to get to the room housing the safe.

And it wasn't like her exit was going to be any smoother a journey.

So hurry it up!

Having learned to school her inner panic years ago, Elena shoved the rushing voice aside and focused on the task.

The trusty tools in her hands had yet to fail her, and she doubted tonight would be any different.

A little more maneuvering….and a loud click proved her right.

The lock sprang and she grinned as she pulled the bag off her back, then checked her watch.

Seven more minutes left on the camera system's relooping override.

Time to grab her loot and get out.

The product was there, looking exactly as Damon had described in a medical looking container.

Despite the crunch for time, Elena picked it up and flipped the lid open, wanting to be certain.

Little bags, each filled with a powdery substance, lined the inside, and she swallowed deeply.

Of all the places that this line of work had taken her, and all the priceless objects she had held in her hands, this was the last thing she could have imagined being involved with.

Am I really acting as a drug mule right now?

A half second of hesitation was all she allowed herself, then images of Nadia, sick in a hospital bed, got her feet moving.

The whats and whys were none of her business; this was simply a means to an end.


There were exactly sixteen minutes of haggling over percentages and prices before Damon felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

He waited until one of the servers had returned to refill the wine glasses around the table before pulling it out.

A single text from Alaric with a thumbs up symbol.

He breathed a sigh of relief and met Stefan and Katherine's gazes with the smallest inclination of his head.

Then he turned and interrupted Markos' newest proposal mid sentence, "How is this, since we have a long standing history, I will offer leniency this once. For the remainder of the fiscal year, five percent of your profit will be added to the price of my imported goods. And I know how much the product is worth, so do not try to cheat me."

From forty percent, to thirty two, to twenty five, to eighteen, Damon had dragged out as long as he could, and the drastic drop caught his partner's attention.

"That would be...quite generous," Augustine said carefully, as one might test a predator to see when it was going to leap.

Damon smiled coldly, "I am glad we can agree. However, if you do decide to engage further with the Whitmore's, understand that this offer, and all future ones, will cease to exist and I will respond to your lacking loyalty however I best see fit."

Instead of waiting for a response, Damon pushed back his chair and stood, then lended an arm to Katherine to help her up.

He motioned for her to head toward the exit with Stefan, who extended an escorting arm.

As they departed, the others frowned.

"So...that's it?" Dianne asked hesitantly.

"Yes, that is all."

Damon reached into his pocket and removed a few bills from his money clip.

"Thank you all for attending," he said dryly, throwing the hundreds down, "Dinner is on me."


Elena's heart was pounding, even after she and Alaric returned safely to his car and were driving down the busy freeway, passing headlights offering plenty of illumination throughout the vehicle.

"You are truly impressive," Alaric said again, "I was honestly expecting more fireworks."

She shrugged, willing the adrenaline in her system to get on it's way, "The facility had gone more for quantity instead of quality when it came to their security. Pair that with the briefing you prepped, and it was as easy as walking in and walking out. I just hope there were no silent alarms we missed."

"If there were, we never would have made it off the property," Alaric said, which she supposed was a good point.

"At least it's done."

He nodded an agreement as his phone began to ring.

Using one hand to direct the car, he clicked his screen with the other and answered, "Hello? Yep. Smooth sailing on this end. Uh huh….yeah. Sure."

The conversation was short and vague, then the cell was being pushed toward her, "He wants to talk to you."

No need to ask who he was, of course.

"Damon?"

She heard his exhale over the line, "You are alright?"

"We're fine," she assured him, "It went quick, without issue, and the retrieval was a success. We're heading across the bridge over Southtown, and we'll be at your place within the next half hour."

Another sigh, "Bravissima, cara mia. You have done well."

"Because I'm getting paid well for the effort," she reminded him with a smirk, "And know that I'm willing to hold your product hostage until you make good on the cash."

His voice changed, warming as he chuckled, "You think you could keep from me what is mine?"

"For a while," she mused, "I mean, what are you gonna do? Call the police?"

A low "Mhmmm" came back at her, and Elena had to swallowed as he decided, "No. But perhaps I will just hold you hostage until you render me what I want."

"Or," she threw out, "You could just pay me the agreed upon amount and no one has to hold anything hostage."

That won her another laugh, this one more genuine, "I can not fault your logic."

"I know. It's flawless," Elena gloated, well aware that she was starting to sound flirty, and recalled the choice she had made before the night's events had transpired.

She cleared her throat, "So, uh, Stefan will take Katherine to get our car?"

"Yes," he said, "They will leave for the mall from my estate. I will remain there to wait for you with all of the agreed upon cash."

So they would have time alone…

"Okay," she swallowed thickly, "Then...I guess I'll see you there."

The amusement had left his tone as well, "Tell Ric to drive fast."


The Vault Room on Damon's second floor was exactly that; a vault.

A solid metal door with a top of the line locking mechanism that made the damn thing near impenetrable.

Which, of course, was half the reason he had purchased this place in particular, was it not?

He bagged the money he had promised Elena as payment, then reset the keypad and exited to the hall.

The house was quiet, now that the other two had left, and he was counting down the seconds until his intruder was within his grasp again.

Talking to her over the phone had been a temporary appeasement, but his chest had been flipping nonstop since the evening had begun and he knew that it would not return to normal until he saw for himself that Elena was safe.

Which brought about his next delima...

She can not walk away from me. I am not ready.

The very idea of watching her leave made his heart race and his breath shorten.

He did not understand the reaction.

However, short of another job, there was nothing on the table to make Elena stick around.

Her car was still wired, so he would know where she was, of course, but a mere location was not good enough.

He wanted more than just to see her from a distance. He needed…more.

Damon's fist was clenched so tightly, his fingers were starting to ache from the strain he was forcing on them, and he knew he had to step back.

Slow down. Take a breath. Think.

There was always another solution, he just had to think of something.

Another job would be ideal, but he had no further requirements and in all honesty, he was not sure he could handle another night like the one he had just endured.

No...using Elena's skills, however honed they might be, was not something he would prefer.

Too much of a risk; besides, he did not want to give her more "business" as a leverage to keep distance between them.

But what did he want, then? What exactly was he expecting Elena to give him?

The self reflective question produced no answers, which only made his fist clench again.

The speed of his inhales increased.

Fuck, he was still on edge.

As he entered the office and sat the bag on the desk, he eyed his liquor cabinet; but he already knew there would be no drinking this one off.

And clearly fucking a rando at the club had done little to dull his true desire.

Whatever the jumble of his mental intentions, at least his body knew what it wanted, and he had a feeling that a single pacification would not be enough.

No, he needed hours and hours in which to properly tend to this problem, and by the time he had finished, Elena would well and truly belong to him.

Oh, he could just imagine how perfect she would be, with that firecracker mouth and her tight little body.

He had already felt what it was like to make her cum, and needed to feel that clenching against his tongue, and eventually, his cock.

A little vacation, somewhere far away; that was what he needed with her.

Some place secluded and private where he and Elena could-

All at once, an idea hit him, stopping him dead in his tracks as the sheer simplicity of it started unfolding in his brain.

Yes...perfect.


Am I really going to do this?

Elena had repeated the same question at least half a dozen times over what had remained of the ride to Damon's estate, and each time, she had received the same answer.

Even though the part of her mind that was clinging to common sense was throwing up a million red flags, the bigger, and apparently more thirsty, part had made an indisputable argument.

If she went home tonight having never allowed herself to fully experience the raw, primal desire that she had felt in Damon's arms, the possibility of what could have been would always be there in the back of her head; haunting her.

And then she really never would be rid of the man.

Better to give in, just this once, and get it all out of her system before shutting that door forever.


She reiterated this conclusion as they arrived at the estate, and even in near darkness, the grand expanse of the mansion was a vision.

Nothing but a few twinkling lights could be seen from the outside, though one of the windows was filled with a distinctive silhouette that stopped her breathing.

Alaric didn't seem to notice as he pulled up next to that beautiful blue car Damon had been driving earlier, and killed the engine.

She got out and waited as he grabbed the night's spoils from the trunk's hidden compartment, before heading toward the house.

They had almost reached the front door when the thing opened.

Damon looked just as good as he had earlier that evening, only now the suit jacket was gone and the tie that had adorned his neck was loosened in a lazy way that really shouldn't be as sexy as it was.

His eyes drank her in, then turned to his Head of Security, "You've got the product then?"

Alaric lifted the container, "It all seems to be here."

"Good," he commended, "Take it to the vault, will you? And stick around for a moment. I need to talk to you."

Where Alaric had been quite expressive in the car, now he only nodded and offered no retort before doing as he had been told.

And just like that, she was alone with Damon.


"I suppose now would be a good time for you to say thank yo-" she started, but before she could finish getting the sentence out, he had crossed the space between them, yanked her into his arms, and was kissing her in the same motion.

It was so wild and unexpected, she gasped against his mouth, and he growled against hers.

Her hands shot to his shoulders, neither pulling him closer or pushing him away, but the touch caused him to shiver and he leaned back.

"Grazie," he whispered and Elena had to shake her head to clear it.

"What was that for?" she demanded, just as out of breath as he was, and they both knew she wasn't referring to the offering of gratitude.

"Because," Damon's hands lingered on her face, his fingers tracing the outline of her features as if he had never noticed them, "It was a very long evening, and I needed it."

She paused at his admission, not sure how to interpret it, but more than willing to continue along the path he was laying out.

However, before she could say so, or just pull him back in for another mind blowing lip lock, Damon had let her go and was pulling away.

"Come inside," he said, then offered her a hand, "I have your payment."

Elena's mood, which had started to drop, perked right back up as she pressed her palm into his and allowed him to lead her toward the door.


Damon was reeling from the mere contact of Elena's skin against his own.

Her hand felt so small in his, and he loved the fact that she had not hesitated in taking it.

When his fingers tightened this time, it was not pain he felt, but warmth, and it eased every muscle throughout his entire body as he led her down the hall to his office.

The fear of the night had completely bled away, and the little smile on Elena's face now was more reassuring than anything else could have been.

She was safe and she would not be disappearing from his life any time soon, not if he could help it.

"There," he motioned to the desk, where he had put the bag.

Elena actually squeezed his palm before letting go and going over to the thing, treating him to a lovely view of her back side in those tight clothes.

His gun harness was still fastened around her thigh and he had never been so jealous of a piece of leather in his life.

He forced his brain to focus as she opened the bag and did a quick count.

"Wow," she laughed a little, "You were serious. This is really fifty-thousand dollars, isn't it?"

He nodded and she redonned the zipper, "Then...I suppose it's my turn to thank you?"

Damon crooked his head, "What for?"

"For coming through," she said with a hint of real genuinity, "I'm sure it's nothing for you, but that money is really going to help my family...so, thank you, or guratsee? That's how you say it, isn't it?"

Damon smirked at her butchered attempt.

"Grazie," he corrected gently and she smiled back at him, "Yeah, that's what I said."

No, not really.

But he did not contest her, especially not as her eyes drifted down to his lips in that same moment.

The heat between them sparked, despite the near innocence of the action, and Damon knew he had to move to his next point before he completely forgot himself.

"So," he cleared his throat, and took a step closer to the object of his fixation, "You are satisfied with your end of the bargain?"

Elena's breath became more shallow as he stopped directly in front of her, but she nodded.

"Good," he said in relief, "Because I may have an offer of continued employment."

His intruder blinked as she processed his declaration, then frowned, "Continued employment? You mean another job?"

"Eh," he wobbled his head, "Of sorts."

Elena leaned away from him, propping herself on the edge of his desk, "I, um, I was under the impression that this was a one and done kind of deal…"

Now she wasn't the only one frowning, "You are not interested, then?"

"I didn't say that," she responded quickly, but backtracked right after, "You'll have to give me more details first, though."

His brain whirled around the fact that she was actually going to consider his offer, and he jumped on the point.

"The job I need will be much more simple than the one tonight. Far less dangerous as well," he promised, "I need you to pick something up for me. In and out of a secured and armed warehouse. I will supply you with the building's blueprints. Nothing bad should happen, even if you are caught."

Her lips pursed, "What am I supposed to be picking up?"

"A bag," he said simply.

"Which contains?" she prompted.

"Not important."

Elena stared at him, "Something illegal?"

"No," he assure her.

She crossed her arms, "For the same price?"

"I did say less dangerous," he reasoned, "So half. Twenty-five thousand?"

"Thirty," she argued, though the smirk forming on her lips made him think she might be teasing him.

He narrowed his eyes, playing along, "Thirty, really?"

She shrugged.

"You won't tell me what's in the bag, and well," she motioned around the room, "It's not like you can't afford it."

"Hard bargaining, cara mia," Damon consented with a laugh, wondering if he might go broke trying to hold on to this woman, "But alright. Thirty it is."

His reward was a full blown grin that nearly put him on his ass with how mesmerizing it was.


"Wait, what is the catch this time?" she demanded, suddenly becoming serious again.

Damon reached out and touched the silky ponytail that swished with her question.

A light pull and her hair was loose, cascading down over her shoulders as he slowly stroked along the length.

God, she really was beautiful...and she did not pull away, even as his brushes continued.

"You do not get your money unless the retrieval is made," he started, which seemed unsurprising to her, "And...the warehouse is in Rochester."

The joking air disappeared then and she backed away from him, "Rochester? But that's...what? Five, maybe six hours from here?"

"Indeed," he agreed, letting his hand fall, "It will require a little road trip and an overnight stay."

Something flashed across Elena's expression, but she schooled it before he could work out what it was.

"Overnight," she repeated, crossing her arms again, then lifted a brow, "And I'm getting paid less?"

"Well," Damon mused, "I will be providing the car and our hotel accommodations, so it is still fair, no?"

Elena did a double take, staring at him hard, "Wait? You're coming as well?"

"Of course," he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, though it felt pretty far from it.

It was what they needed though.

A night. Away. Alone.


A knock on the door grabbed both of their attention, even as the offer hung between them.

Damon cursed internally, but called out, "Open."

Alaric's head poked in, hesitantly, and when he saw them, he relaxed and entered.

"Everything's where it should be," he announced, "I need to get home to Jenna soon, though."

Damon nodded, feeling deflated now that the moment he had shared with Elena was over.

"Of course," he forced out, "Just one moment."

He glanced back down at his little intruder, but she was already moving, grabbing the bag of money and straightening...readying to leave.

"Consider it?" it shamed him that he was so very close to begging, but the tone got her attention.

Those brown eyes met his and softened.

"I will," she promised, and even lightly touched his arm, "Let me think it over. I'll text you when I make a decision."

Figuring that was fair enough, he nodded and grabbed her hand to place a short kiss against the knuckles, before stepping out of her path to the door, "Wait outside by the car and Alaric will give you a ride home. You do not mind, do you, Ric?"

"Nah," his H.O.S smiled easily, "She's not the worst company."

On that they could agree.

Elena smiled politely and offered a thanks, before walking out the door and Damon's gaze dropped to his feet so that the image of her departure would not be burned in his mind.


"You okay, Boss?" Ric asked, once they were alone, "Need anything else?"

Damon took a settling breath, then plastered a stiff smile on his face, "As a matter of fact, I do."

"What's up?"

He took a page from Elena's book and leaned his body against the desk, "You remember that warehouse where we were storing the extra import?"

The reply was immediate, "Yeah, up in Rochester? You're using it mostly for the guns and ammo now, right?"

"Precisely," he nodded, "I will need you to head up there in a few days. Lock up anything dangerous and put a bag in the file safe beneath the cabinet along the wall in the office there."

"Sure," Ric agreed easily, but hesitated for a brief second, "What's in the bag?"

Damon couldn't help but smirk, "Thirty-thousand dollars."


Wooo. So Elena has a new "job" coming up, wiiiith a little road trip ;) Should be fun!