"There's a lot of money involved here, Elena. And sometimes people resort to bad things to protect their 'enterprises', he drags out the word. "Do you know how to shoot that gun you keep in your bag?"

"Yes, I know how to use a gun! My dad took me to a shooting range every weekend until he thought I was good enough to handle it. He wanted me to know how to defend myself when I moved out of the house."

He shrugs. "Good to know."

If he's trying to discourage her, he isn't doing a very good job. "Do you want my help or do I take you in right now?" she reaches for her handbag.

"As long as you do what I say. You tell nobody...wouldn't want to tarnish my image by looking like a good guy."

"Can't have that," she rolls her eyes. "Where do we begin? To look for him I mean..."

"Where to begin?" he repeats... his eyes grow wide when Eloise the cat unexpectedly jumps on his lap.

"What about Dahlia's? I mean, I don't know why but the mayor frequenting a whore house doesn't seem like such a big deal other than the fact that he's married. All men do that?" She arches an eyebrow at him.

"All men do not do that!" Damon snaps, clearly affronted by her accusation. "And it is a crime if he's using city funds to pay for his dalliances."

"Did Ric know which girl? Does Richard Lockwood have a favorite? Maybe he let something slip? I would think he'd be smarter than that, he is the mayor after all but it's a possibility..."

"Ric didn't mention anyone in particular."

"Well, what if you were to go there, posing as a client? You could put in some colored contact lenses, maybe wear some nicer clothes? Perhaps you could get in there without being recognized as the intrepid Damon Salvatore?" she laughs in amusement.

"Ha ha," he rolls his eyes, "But you might be onto something," he gets up and moves in front of the mirror Bonnie has on her wall. Pulling out a comb, he parts it on the other side. "I wonder about putting some temporary color in it?" he looks over his shoulder at Elena.

"Yeah, I don't think so," she scoffs, remembering how she loved to run her fingers through his sweat dampened hair. "You'd be better off with wig or hair piece."

"Okay, why don't we go shopping then or better yet, you go shopping, there's a bench warrant out, if a cop sees me, I'll get arrested."

"So what's to stop you from taking off, leaving me high and dry again if I say yes?"

"I'm many things, Elena, not all of them good but I'm not a liar. You have my word I will stay here."

Elena considers him for a few minutes. "Don't make me regret this," she eyes him intently for several seconds then picks up her bag and leaves the apartment, snapping the door shut behind her.

"Would you stop that!" Damon snaps when Elena tries to draw his brow hairs in a little thicker with her pencil.

"Shush! You don't want to be recognized do you? That'll put another target on your back. Rumor has it that Dahlia has enforcers."

"Fine, I'll shut up," Damon looks at himself in the mirror, hardly recognizing the reflection that's staring back at him. In addition to a wig, she also picked up some brown non-corrective contact lenses.

"There you go, you look so handsome Trey."

"Trey?"

"Yes, I like that name."

"You're enjoying this a little too much." He furrows his brows at her.

"What was your first clue? Are we about ready to go?"

"You're coming?"

"Yeah," she picks up her bag.

"Why?"

"Because I have a vested interest in your whereabouts. I'll wait in the car."

"Jesus Christ, Elena," Damon shoots out his arm, wraps his hand around her wrist and pulls her against him. Then he kisses her. His mouth is hot on hers, open and inviting, and she doesn't care that she should make him slow down.

She doesn't want to.

She kisses him back trying to make up for all the time she's missed.

His hands move to her waist and tighten. She's pressed right up against him now, neither of them breaking away even as the kiss gains momentum. She's moaning into his mouth and it's still about the best sound he's ever heard. Her tongue is playing against his, moving and sucking, then licking her lips and diving back in. Elena was, and always will be, intoxicating.

When they break apart, Elena's bosom is heaving much to Damon's delight.

He brushes his mouth against her ear, "I still got it," his eyes twinkle and he walks out the door with a purposeful swing of his very fine ass.

Still a little dazed, Elena follows behind...

Roosevelt Street starts down by the river, just north of The Golden Coral Restaurant and runs in a northeasterly direction. Crammed with small inner city businesses, bars, crack houses and three story row houses, the street stretches on for a few miles, leading them out of the city and into the countryside.

Damon tells Elena to drive past Dahlia's the first time around. It's big old house, very similar in structure to the one in 'The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas'. There's no advertising but then she supposes it doesn't need much. Everyone in town knows what goes on there, but since it's out of city limits, the local police leave her alone.

"Turn around and drop me off. Wait for me at the scenic area," he points the road that leads to a State park.

"Won't she be suspicious when you walk down the road?" Elena asks, pulling onto the gravel road that leads to Dahlia's house.

"You think she watches how every customer leaves her place?" he quirks his brows.

"How would I know but if you're going to ask some questions, you better be able to answer them."

"I intend to ask for Richard's girl."

"And how do you know her?"

"I don't, I'm going to ask for the mayor's favorite chick."

"And you really think that won't raise alarms with Dahlia? I hear she's a pretty imposing woman."

"I don't know, I've never been to a house of "ill repute" before," he scrunches his face up.

"Damon, this is dangerous," she looks at him. "Just be careful, okay? You're worth nothing to me if you're dead."

"Gee thanks, Elena, I'm so glad you care," he gets out of the car.

"I was kidding alright, just watch yourself," she nods at him and waits. As soon as he goes inside, she turns around and drives to the scenic overlook to wait for him...

Damon walks inside, using a little of his inherent Salvatore swagger so as not to arouse any suspicion. The smell of sex seeks immediately envelopes him. He's surprised at the décor', the floors are black wood and the parlor has a large white piano along with a life sized statue of the Venus de Milo. The curtains are sheer white as he moves further towards the reception desk, he notices the deep burgundy paper that covers the wall leading up the stairs.

He shivers a little bit.

"Mr. Silvestri, how good to see you again!" Dahlia offers her hand and without missing a beat, Damon brings it to his mouth and places a soft kiss on it. However he's a little taken aback as he's never been in this establishment before.

Does he have a look-alike running around somewhere?

"You look lovely as always," Damon lays it on thickly.

"Thank you, April is waiting for you in her room..."

"April?"

"She's the only girl who's free right now."

"You do know how to make a customer feel welcome," he charms her with his eye-thing.

"Why do you think my clients keep coming back, Mr. Silvestri?"

"The ambience, the hospitality, the discretion perhaps?" Damon winks at her.

"Exactly. Now if you'll follow me, I'll take you to April," she starts up the stairs.

Damon pats his pants pocket just to reassure himself he has what he needs as he follows behind the woman.

Elena drives to their rendezvous point, locks the car, and walks around the nature area, continuously looking at her watch. The minutes pass slowly...

It doesn't take long for anxiety born out of her frustration to get the better of her, she hops back in the vehicle and drives back towards Dahlia's place.

She parks on the road a short distance from the house which still gives her a good view of it. Across the street, a shadowy figure pulls back from a third-floor window, the movement catches her attention. Someone is keeping their guard up. Not surprising given all the rumors she's heard about the place.

As she watches, a handful of men are guarding the perimeter which makes her wonder what else is going on inside there that Dahlia needs so much security?

Elena turns away for a second when suddenly she hears a knock on the window. A hulking mountain of muscle is looking down at her. Swallowing thickly, she rolls down the window a couple of inches.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Why don't you tell me why you're parked here?" he asks, his voice silky smooth, his lips curving into a dreamy smile. The overall effect is eerie, the voice and smile at odds with his stealthy, calculating eyes.

"I'm waiting for my brother, he went inside to well... you know," she smirks playfully. There is something about his eyes, black holes where everything gets sucked in and nothing comes out, almost as if they're a hiding place for evil.

"He needs his sister to wait for him?" The guy looks at her in disbelief.

"He lost his driver's license for six months, DUI. You ask a lot of questions, it's really none of your business, so you can just run along now... I'm not bothering anyone or anything."

"I'm keeping my eye on you," he quirks his brows then turns on his heels and jogs away.

Angry now, she turns on the ignition, makes a wide u turn then drives back to the spot where she's supposed to meet Damon.

"April, this is Mr. Silvestri, you know what to do," Dahlia nods at both then gracefully descends the long staircase, her skin appearing maroon as the pale light reflects off the gaudy wallpaper.

"Come on in, Mr. Silvestri," she grabs his arm and practically throws him on the bed. April is a tiny little slip of a woman. Glittery eye shadow and red lips adorn her face, and she's wearing a little black negligee leaving little to the imagination.

"Now what should we talk about?" April wastes no time in starting to unbutton his shirt...

Huge thanks to all of you and to those who post anonymously since I can't respond to those reviews. And thanks to you, Eva. Love you more. ;)

Chapter title: 'This Masquerade' by George Benson.

Have a wonderful day.