A/N: Wow! You guys! Can you believe it? It's me! With an update to this story! Almost exactly TWO YEARS after my last update. I don't know what to say. I had a rough time continuing this. A lot has been going on in my life and I have not been following the last season of TVD, so my muse had a bit of a dry-spell. But I couldn't leave this story alone. I need to finish it. So, here I am, back with a new chapter. Honestly, this is also due to some amazing people still leaving me the most wonderful reviews and writing me amazing messages. After all this time. I really appreciate it and please know that your feedback is what has pushed me to update at last.
I also have a confession. I've re-read the first 21 chapters recently because, honestly, I didn't fully remember everything anymore. And I have gotten lost a few times along the way. There are storylines that I will not pick up again. For example the one about Damon's fiancé and everything that entails. I'm really sorry. I know it sucks to bring stuff like that up and tease you guys and then not deliver. I don't have a good excuse except for: It's really hard to publish chapter by chapter, over the span of several years (my bad, I know) and not get sometimes carried away in a somewhat different direction than I had planned in the beginning. At this point, I honestly just don't want to slow the plot down anymore. I feel like this much exposition and backstory this late in the game would only be annoying. I'm already unhappy with the last chapter and wish I could have dealt with all that a bit more elegantly. Just know that I do have all of that backstory in my head. If you're really interested, send me a message and if I have the time, I'll write out a quick outline of what happened in Damon's past and send it to you ;)
Anyways, as I said before, I'm still considering turning this into a non-fanfiction novel. I'm actually dying to get started on that and fix all the mistakes I've made here XD. I already have a couple of pages of a new beginning. So if you're interested in reading that, let me know. I'm collecting FF followers who will get a free copy when (if ever) I finish it :)
TL/DR: I'm back! Let's go...
The twenty-second chapter, in which a nation celebrates
The trip into town was excruciating. To get from Roissy airport to the center of Paris was a forty minute drive on a good day and today was not a good day. Traffic was heavy. The town car was creeping along the autoroute through the dismal outskirts of the French capital. Elena was staring out the window as one decrepit two-story house was followed by the next.
"Are they okay?" she finally asked, turning towards her sister in law.
"They're doing grand. This is the best vacation they've ever been on. They got to climb the Tour Eiffel and eat ice cream in front of Notre Dame and all that without nagging parents. They've never been happier."
Elena's stomach churned, but she hoped that her children really were blissfully unaware of what was going on. If they could somehow come out of this unharmed and untraumatized, she was willing to endure any pain in their stead.
"Why did you do it?" she managed to press out, voicing the one question she had not been able to find a satisfying answer to on her own. She couldn't believe that it was just about the money.
"The money, of course," Vicki said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"But you have money," Elena returned.
"Not the kind of money we would have had, had Mason not messed up the Michaelson deal," Vicki explained matter-of-factly.
"But still enough," Elena replied, her voice getting louder. She couldn't believe her sister in law's callousness. "We are family."
"Let's be honest, family doesn't mean a whole lot to any of us."
"How can you say that?"
"Oh please. Mason always thought less of Tyler. He put him in check, didn't let him live up to his full potential. CMO – what a stupid, condescending type of position is that for the co-heir to the Lockwood Empire?"
"That's not how it was. Tyler was a great CMO. He always knew how to read and influence people. It was a natural fit."
"It was an insult, that's what it was," Vicki said indignantly.
"It wasn't meant as one," Elena tried. "I know Mason loved Tyler. And he was proud of him."
"Well Tyler doesn't need Mason's patronizing big-brother pride. He deserves his respect. And now he has it. Now you guys know that we're no push-overs."
Elena stared at her sister in-law, not believing her ears.
"You kidnapped our children to prove a point?"
"No, we are finally taking what we deserve."
The town car crept along the narrow streets of the 8th arrondissement, the banking quarter north of the Champs Elysees. The streets had slowly gotten more and more crowded. By now it had become difficult to navigate through throngs of tourists. As they rounded a corner, a police officer motioned at them to wait and let a tank cross a little further down the road.
"What's going on here?" Elena asked, looking around.
"It's Bastille Day," Vicki explained. "We just missed the big parade."
Elena's heart skipped a beat. The entire city had to be teeming with police and army for the celebrations of France's national holiday. Her head spun around. There had to be a way to alert them, to get someone to help.
"I know what you're thinking," Vicki said quietly, her voice relaxed. "Don't think it."
"What are you talking about?" Elena tried.
"It'd be such a shame if something happened to the kids now. It's almost over, E. You almost have them back."
"I wasn't…"
"I really do like them, you know. Jeremy has a great sense of humor. And Jenna is so open and trusting. It's really heartwarming. So don't screw this all up now. I really don't want to hurt them. Okay?"
Elena gave up and nodded.
The car came to a halt in front of the imposing portals of Société Banque de Berne. Elena looked up along the sand brick walls so typical for the French capital. "Sécurité et Prospérité" was written in angular golden letters above the entrance. Elena hoped that this was a good omen for her children's future.
"We're here," Vicki announced. "Just follow my lead."
As they entered the grand entrance hall, they were hit by a wall of cool, scentless air. Their steps on the marble floor, shiny from centuries of feet shuffling across it, echoed off the sheer walls. A young woman smiled at them, as they neared the reception desk.
"Bonjour, bienvenues a Société Banque de Berne. Que puis-je pour vous?" the receptionist greeted them.
"We would like to make a withdrawal from a savings account," Vicki replied.
"Of course," the woman smiled, not missing a beat. "Let me get one of our account managers for you. Please wait here." She indicated a half circle of brown leather chairs to her right. "May I offer you a drink?"
"No, thank you," Elena replied.
"Yes, I'll have a coffee," Vicki interjected. "We're not in a hurry."
The woman left and Vicki and Elena sat down in two of the large chairs.
A young man in a grey suit entered the bank, carrying a quick burst of heat and noise with him, before the large doors shut both out again with a heavy thud. Another receptionist quickly appeared at the welcome desk and the two men exchange a few words in French, before leaving for the far side of the room.
The opening of another door broke the silence and the clinking of heels preceded the visual of a woman in a navy blue costume walking towards them.
"Good afternoon," she greeted them with a heavy French accent, while extending a thin but strong hand to them. Her handshake hurt, large rings on all five fingers pressing into Elena's bones. "My name is Mme Gerval. Please follow me."
They followed her across the big hall and through a solid door, padded with leather. As soon as it shut behind them, they were suddenly swallowed up by silence. The floor was covered by a thick beige carpet, the ceiling was low, and the walls were coated with textile wallpaper. After walking past a row of identical doors, Mme Gerval unexpectedly turned and pushed through another identical door, opening into a spacious office with a dark blue carpet and a carved wooden desk, over which a large abstract painting was hanging on an otherwise empty wall. A cup of coffee was waiting for Vicki on a smaller side table.
"Please, have a seat," the woman invited them, pointing to two chairs in front of her antique desk. "How can I help you?"
"We would like to make a withdrawal," Vicki reiterated. "Ten million dollars."
Elena tried not to flinch at the number and looked at Mme Gerval for an indication of surprise. But her obliging smile never waivered for a second.
"Of course. What is the account number, please?"
She was looking at both women expectantly. "Oh right. I was holding it for you," Vicki suddenly exclaimed and rifled through her purse to produce a scrap of paper which she pushed irreverently across the desk. Mme Gerval started typing something in her computer.
"Alright. You will be withdrawing money from you and your husband's joint savings account today?" she asked, looking at Elena.
"Yes," Elena confirmed, wondering where this account came from. Why did she and Mason have a joint savings account that she had never heard of?
"Wonderful. We just need your identification, Mrs. Lockwood." She smiled. Elena turned to Vicki, confused. Vicki, in return, motioned with her head, prompting Elena's heart to sink. She hadn't brought her passport, or any other kind of identification. Why hadn't Vicki told her this? "Here," the woman said, bringing Elena's attention back to her. She was pushing a small black box across the table. It was made from plastic and a cord was attached to the back of it, leading to somewhere underneath the desk. A small glass plate shimmered on the box's lid. "Your fingerprint, please," the account manager prompted her.
Elena shot her hand forward, relieved to be able to comply. She pressed her thumb onto the screen which was immediately illuminated by a red light from inside the box. After a few seconds the woman nodded. "Thank you. Would you like the money transferred or cash, Mrs. Lockwood?" she asked, looking up at Elena. Elena turned towards Vicki.
"Cash, no?" Vicki answered, almost sounding disinterested.
"Yes, cash,"Elena confirmed.
"Of course," Mme Gerval agreed instantly. "For cash withdrawals over five million we only have Euros in stock. I hope that is okay for you?"
Elena looked at Vicki who gave her a terse but approving smile. "Yes, great." Elena confirmed.
"Cash withdrawala also need to be confirmed with your eight digit pin, please." She looked up at Elena again, her hands poised above the keyboard, ready to type in the code she was expecting Elena to dictate to her.
Elena felt Vicki next to her stiffen uncomfortably. Maybe she hadn't known about this condition. Elena had no idea what the code could be. She felt her thoughts start to spin. She would have to guess. What were the odds for guessing an eight digit code correctly? She knew that she didn't stand a chance. What if she couldn't name the correct sequence of numbers? What if she wasn't able to withdraw the money? What would happen to her children? It wasn't her fault that she wasn't able to correctly guess an arbitrary number. Vicki and Tyler had to understand that. On the other hand she knew that they didn't have a choice. They couldn't just let the kids go, not anymore. Not without anything in return. She felt panic start to rise up inside her.
"I'm so sorry, I can't remember," she said, trying to bring a lightness she didn't feel to her voice. "Pregnancy brain," she exclaimed by way of explanation, touching her flat belly and smiling at the woman across the desk from her apologetically.
"Of course," Mme Gerval replied. "No problem. I will give you your clue word."
There was a clue word. Elena had to hold her beath to keep from sighing in relief. The woman was watching her intently for a second, before turning her attention to the computer. Her smile seemed less friendly now, more guarded.
"It is Jenna," the woman told her, her eyes fixed on Elena. She was suspicious now, Elena was sure of it.
She felt Vicki relax next to her. She had to have had the same thought as Elena: her daughter's birthday. But Elena was hesitant. She had no idea why Mason had opened a secret bank account with a Swiss bank. He hadn't told her about it, but he also hadn't tried to hide it from her specifically. She was a joint owner. At the same time he was definitely hiding it from someone. And if he was hiding it, his daughter's birthday was not a clever pin code. It was too easy to figure out. She was racking her brain. Jenna's first day of kindergarten, the day Jenna took her first steps, the day they took Jenna home from the hospital… There were too many options.
"E?" Vicki tried to hurry her.
"Yes," Elena replied, nodding, wondering how to stall. It had to be a date that only she would know, one that no one else would be able to figure out.
And then it hit her. She was thinking of the wrong Jenna.
"It's 1-2-2-3-2-0-0-8."
"What?" Vicki exclaimed. "That's not Jenna's birthday!"
"No, it's not," Elena confirmed quietly. It was the day the woman Jenna was named after had died. It was the day, shortly after she and Mason had met, that her phone had rung and she had been called to the hospital as Jenna's emergency contact. When she had arrived, Jenna had already passed away. It was the day she had called Mason, the guy she had met at a bar, who had gone home and probably forgotten all about her, and had cried on the phone and told him everything about her past. It was the day he had gotten into his car and driven for eight hours straight and fulfilled his promise – he had come for her and taken her with him. He had introduced her to his parents two days later, under their Christmas tree, and she hadn't left him since.
"Thank you," the account manager said tersely, typing in the numbers. "That was correct."
"Ha!" Vicki exclaimed, unable to hide her relief. Mme Gerval eyed them coldly. She was obviously aware that something was wrong here. She pushed a few last buttons on her keyboard before getting up.
"Please follow me," she instructed.
The two women followed her quietly, both eager to get everything done as quickly as possible now. Vicki's nonchalance was gone. She was desperate to get the money and leave. Elena could tell from the tension in her posture and the force in her steps.
As they reached the big entrance hall, a young man wheeling a small armoured cart walked towards them from the other end of the room, meeting them by the reception desk. Mme Gerval pulled a small key from her jacket pocket that was chained to her costume by a thin but robust chain. She unlocked the armored cart with in and then typed a short code into the safe that was locked behind the cart's bars. When it opened with a short beep and a click, she pulled four suitcases from it and laid them on top of the reception desk. She opened them to allow Vicki and Elena to verify the contents – tightly packed bundles of five hundred euro bills.
"I trust you have security to accompany you? Or would you like us to call for an escort?" Mme Gerval asked.
"No, we're fine," Vicki assured her and threw the first two suitcases shut.
"Very well," the account manager accepted. "Mrs. Lockwood, we need you to confirm the receipt of the funds, please." She pushed a document towards Elena across the reception desc and indicated the signature line with one of her impeccably manicured fingers.
As Elena signed, Vicki threw the remaining two suitcases closed and pulled them awkwardly off the table. They dropped to her sides heavily. "You take the other two," she instructed Elena, before starting towards the exit, the suitcases dangling like weights from her hands.
As Elena reached for the other two suitcases, she suddenly felt the light touch of Mme Gerval's hand on her wrist. She turned her head and was met with two eyes boring into hers intently. "Is everything alright?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Elena read her lips rather than heard what she said.
Elena's eyes shot back at her sister in law's retreating frame. From the corner of her eyes, she saw two security guards taking casual steps towards the exit from both sides, large guns already at the ready. An image of Vicki being overpowered by these men shot through her head. She could simply shake her head now and Vicki would be overwhelmed within seconds. They would be able to detain her, to keep her from alerting Tyler… But what would happen then? How would they find Tyler? How would they find her children? Maybe the driver outside had instructions to call Tyler when they didn't come out of the bank in a certain amount of time. She couldn't take any chances. Elena fastened her grip around the handles of the suitcases.
"Yes," she replied just as quietly, putting on a smile she hoped was convincing enough.
The other woman removed her bejeweld fingers. Elena could tell that she didn't believe her, but hoped there was nothing they could do without an indication from her that something was wrong.
"Thank you for everything," Elena added and pulled the suitcases from the desk, hurrying to follow Vicki out of the bank. The suitcases were heavier than she had expected. Each had to weigh around 20 pounds. She felt the handles bite into her fingers but bit her teeth together, hauling their loot – because that's what it was – out to the waiting car.
Vicki had just finished loading the first half of the money in the trunk, helped by their driver. She grinned at Elena as she walked towards them, the bright sun blinding her. It had gotten late and the sun was hanging low in the sky, sending glittering late-afternoon rays down the narrow street.
Vicki stepped into the car and motioned to Elena to follow her, apparently not wanting to linger any longer than necessary. As soon as Elena shut the door behind herself, Vicki clapped the driver on the shoulder.
"Go, go!" she cried, a bright smile on her face. A laugh escaped her, as the car lurched forward and then started heading north. "We did it! Can you believe it? We did it!"
Elena nodded, unable to share in her elation even though she did feel relief wash through her. "When do I get to see Jenna and Jeremy?" she asked.
Vicki sobered, a displeased frown flitting across her brow. She looked at Elena for a second, as if trying to gauge the situation, then heaved an annoyed sigh. "Fine," she said, pulling her phone from her purse. She held it out in front of her, waiting for the other end of the line to get picked up while running the fingers of her free hand through her hair as if to straighten it in front of a mirror.
Suddenly her face brightened again, indicating that the call had connected. "We did it, baby!" she exclaimed.
"That's great news," Elena heard Tyler's voice come from the little device.
"She wants to see the kids," Vicki said, unable to hide her annoyance. Then she scooted over slightly and angled the phone so that Elena could see the screen.
"Hi Elena," Tyler said into the camera, his face suddenly hardened, uncomfortable.
"Where are they?" she asked, trying to make out where he was. All she could see were heads and shoulders of an endless sea of people passing behind him.
"Hey guys," Tyler said, his face growing softer again. "Guess who wants to speak with you." At that he lowered himself, crouching down somewhat and holding his phone further away to allow for the visible space around him to grow. And suddenly a small, smiling face popped onto the screen. Jeremy, his blond hair ruffled and a broad, chocolate-covered smile on his face, stared looked at her.
"Mommy!" he exclaimed, his grin growing wider, raising one hand to wave at her ecstatically.
Tears shot into Elena's eyes. She hadn't been prepared for the deep pit her heart would fall into, nor the incredible hight it would be shot up to.
"Jeremy," she whispered, just as a second curious face pushed into the frame. "Jenna."
"Hi Mom," Jenna waved, mimicking her little brother.
"Where are you guys?" Elena exclaimed.
"Mommy, it's so cool! We went all the way up!" Jeremy exclaimed, before Tyler stood back up and her children were suddenly lost from view again.
"Come get them," Tyler said, before flipping the phone so it looked straight up towards the sky. Directly above them, the four feet of the Eiffel Tower shot up towards the blue above them, their heavy beams entangling overhead to form the first platform. Then the phone went dark.
Elena looked up at Vicki. "We have to go to the Eiffel Tower," she said, frantically turning towards the driver and then towards the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the landmark, trying to figure out where it was, how far away they were.
"No," Vicki corrected her. "You have to go to the Eiffel Tower."
"What?" Elena exclaimed.
"Là-bas," Vicki told the driver, indicating for him to stop at a light a little further down the road that opened into a large square.
"No, you have to take me. I don't know where to go!" Elena insisted.
"It's the Eiffel Tower," Vicki replied dismissively. "Get directions." With that, she pushed Elena's door open just as the car was coming to a halt.
Elena stared out at the strange streets. She had never felt so lost. But she couldn't give up now. She put one foot on the sidewalk to step out, as an idea shot through her head. She hesitated for only a second, before turning around and wrapping her arms around her sister in law for what was probably the last time.
"I forgive you," she said to the woman whose torso was stiff against hers, before letting go and stepping out of the car.
Before the door was fully closed again, the town car was rushing down the busy street again, disappearing forever in the bustling Parisian traffic. Elena looked around. She had no idea where she was. Tall sand brick buildings lined the sides of all seven roads leading away from the square she was standing on, the setting sun let the windows opposite her shimmer in rose and yellow hues, a group of French teenagers pushes past her, laughing loudly, but the Eiffel Tower was nowhere in sight.
Ouf! Let's go. Home stretch ;)