Thanks a lot awesome, lovely, amazing, talented people. Thank you for taking some time out of your busy lives to read my stories. You don't know how happy you guys make me when you review.

And now I will have to mention that I don't own Vampire diaries which I don't wanna do, but I will have to. Now on with the story…

Chapter Ten

Leave me out with the waste
This is not what I do
It's the wrong kind of place
To be cheating on you
It's the wrong time
She's pulling me through
It's a small crime
And I've got no excuse….

-9 Crimes by Damien Rice

Damon Salvatore wanted to tear the heart out of this idiotic receptionist. Did he look like a stalker? Why couldn't these people just give him Elena's address?

'Damon?' Fuck, it was Elijah Mikaelson. It looked like his day had taken a turn for worse.

He turned to see the Prince of heartless bastards strolling towards him. There was intent in those eyes, a purpose that made Damon's hackles rise. What did this man want now?

'Did you say Elena Gilbert?' the question was casual but Damon could read the urgency in his tone and those eyes that had seen every degree of debauchery a human could think of.

'Yes.'

'And would you humor your old friend and explain how you know the lady?' Elijah smirked, but it seemed forced.

Did he not remember the girl he had humiliated? Did he not remember his so called lessons that had prompted Damon to discard the only good thing that had ever happened to him? It looked like years of partying had caught up with the playboy prince if he did not remember the girl who was still the topic of avid interest in parties after alcohol was freely consumed.

Damon Salvatore hated Elijah Mikaelson. Beneath the façade of civility, politeness and friendship, he hated Mikaelson. Why was Elijah showing so much interest in Elena all of sudden?

He walked away from where the Prince Mikaelson was standing without giving a backward glance. He heard the footsteps behind him as he walked towards the pool. And unsurprisingly Elijah caught up with him in less than few seconds.

'What was that about?'

'I am in no mood to entertain you Mikaelson. Just leave me be.' Damon spat.

'After you tell me what lovely Miss Gilbert means to you. And why were you asking about her address from the hotel receptionist. Was she staying here?' Had he missed the owner of that seductive voice and cold rationality while he was pursuing his Elena?

His Elena? When had she become his Elena?

Elena?

Oh lord! Not Elena Gilbert he had thought of finding, right? Surely she couldn't be just staying in the same hotel as him. And surely he hadn't fucked her and felt as if his ugly soul had died and taken a new birth? His Elena couldn't be 'The Elena Gilbert of the ugly truth' right?

Damon was watching Elijah closely and that tell tale gleam in his eyes was something that Damon had been a witness to countless times before. So, the bastard didn't remember who Elena was? It would be his pleasure to refresh Elijah Mikaelson's memory, and to crush that speculative gaze in his eyes that hinted at lust.

'So you don't remember Elena, do you Elijah?'

'Oh I do old friend. I remember all the delicious ways I had her last ni-.' And the end of his sentence was cut with an abrupt fist smashing in his jaw.

What the fuck? His head was still ringing from the abuse of his poor bones on the hands of Damon Salvatore's fists when he felt another smashing in his eye. He literally saw stars. This bloody won't do. If Damon wanted a fight, then he was more than charged to deliver one.

'You bloody bastard. You seduced her, didn't you?' Damon was shouting, his fists plummeting Elijah repeatedly and he was being plummeted in return.

'Seduced? More like she seduced me. She was the best one night stand I have ever had.' He came to his defense forgetting that his defense sounded way too taunting to count as defense.

'You bastard. You bloody bastard, you don't remember her, do you?' Damon slammed him into a wall.

'How the fuck do you want me to remember her when I have never met her before coming to America this time?' he snarled, backing Damon in a corner and letting his hands do the rest of talking.

They didn't care that they had attracted spectators, they didn't care they were on the verge of being plastered on the front page of every national newspaper across America and Europe if not the world. All they cared about was a slip of a woman with doe eyes and soft brunette tresses, seductive voice and an underlying innocence.

'Oh you met her Elijah, you met her all right. Seven years ago, you were the one who taught me it was foolish to settle for one inexperienced girl when I could have all the whores of Babylon on my feet, begging to be fucked. You were the one who poisoned my love, weren't you Elijah? You were the one who had delighted in dragging Elena Gilbert back to the room where I was fucking her twin sister. You were the one who had taken a taste of her lips and proclaimed she should search you out when she was experienced enough. Don't you remember Elijah?'

Why was his vision going dark? Why did he feel like vomiting? He could feel the bile rise up in his throat. It had never happened before. Was he growing a fucking conscience?

'Don't you remember the sick games you and Amara delighted in playing? Don't you remember the hitch of her breath when you used to listen her cry when Amara taunted her with all the details of what went in between me and Amara? Don't you remember your amusement Elijah? Don't you remember my cruelty? After all you were the one who nurtured it, weren't you?' Damon continued.

He wanted Damon to stop. He desperately wanted Damon to shut up. He could feel the world spinning and for a moment he wanted to sit down, he wanted to run away. He wanted to do anything that could help him escape this hellish feeling.

'She was just a game for you. Seven years ago, she was just someone who had the misfortune of being in your radius when you were bored with everything in your life. Her misery was your entertainment, her tears your amusement. And you say you don't remember her Elijah?' Damon's voice was bleak, a saga of everything he had lost.

Elijah felt himself stumbling. His one eye was swollen shut, his nose was bleeding, his knuckles were raw and yet he couldn't feel anything. After years of thinking he had been numb, today he truly was numb, and he found that he didn't like the feeling at all. He felt hollow, void of everything. What was happening to him?

'She is the whore in the circles of aristocrats who reveal in the fact that they have a blue blooded lineage. And you know who made her that? You did Elijah. You were the one who played the macabre game of deception because you couldn't stand her innocence and her naivety in my life or so you said. But it wasn't the case, was it Elijah? You were jealous of my happiness. Jealous that happiness had found me worthy and you, lacking.' Damon was lost in the poisonous memories that never let him breath; never let him die in peace. They never let him forget the travesty of his sins.

'Stop it.' he said, but his voice came in faint whisper of begging.

He never begged. Why was he starting now?

They didn't know when their bodyguards had hauled their collective asses in a suite, where Damon was sitting on floor, and his back against the wall. Elijah was few feet's away from the Grand duke of Luxembourg.

'Why should I stop Elijah? Did you stop when you were constructing a hell for me? Did you pause to think that maybe I loved the girl whose innocence you couldn't stand?' Damon whispered brokenly.

Elijah couldn't answer. All he could hear was Elena's breathy whisper of his name when she had orgasmed around him. All he could see was her eyes, those beautiful doe eyes that had beheld his as he had slipped inside her. He had never known peace, never known what heaven felt like.

She had been that slice of heaven, that balm of peace he hadn't known he had been searching for.

Had he destroyed her even before he found her?

But then he always destroyed things. What was new in that?

His heart hurt when he thought about Elena being at the mercy of his nastiness. He had no qualms about himself. He knew he was a monster, had always known he was a monster, but right now he didn't want to be one; didn't want to believe that his Elena had once been Damon's.

Elena. She had worn the marks of his passion on her body with the same confidence as one might wear diamonds or pearls.

'I wish I had listened to Stefan. I wish I had listened to my baby brother.' Damon sighed. 'You killed your own brother Elijah; you killed your own child. What chance had I against the ruthlessness that runs in lieu of blood in your veins?'

So what do you think? This Elijah is quite unpalatable, isn't he? Destroying lives left and right, what are we going to do with him? Let's wait and watch, shall we?

Review below and let me know what you thought about this chapter or what you think of story in general. Stay tuned for the next chapter of The Ugly Truth.

Love y'all.

-Eos