Cassiopeia Forbes has spent years distancing herself from Mystic Falls-a town steeped in memories of her younger sister, Caroline, and the mother she never truly connected with. Leaving at just nine year old to live with her father, Cassie vowed nev...
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**Cassie's POV**
We pulled up to the Salvatore house, the tension between Elijah and me still lingering from our earlier argument. As we reached the front door, it opened, revealing Damon standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.
"Good evening," Elijah greeted smoothly, ever the gentleman.
Damon nodded, forcing a smile. "Thank you for coming. Please, come in."
He turned to me, his eyes briefly locking with mine. "Cassie."
"Damon," I replied, my voice carrying a hint of doubt as I gave him a questioning look.
Before we could step inside, Elijah paused, his tone turning cold as he addressed Damon. "Just one moment. If you have less than honorable intentions about how this evening is going to proceed, I suggest you reconsider."
Damon's smile didn’t waver, but there was a dangerous edge to it. "No, nothing dishonorable. Just getting to know you."
Elijah’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if assessing Damon’s words. "Hmm. Well, that's good."
With that, Elijah and I stepped inside. The moment we were in, Elijah turned back to Damon, his voice low but laced with threat. "Because, you know, although Elena and I have this deal, if you so much as make a move to cross me, I'll kill you and I'll kill everyone in this house. Are we clear?"
Damon’s response was curt, his voice tight with barely contained annoyance. "Crystal."
I shot Elijah an angry look, silently pleading with him to ease up. He caught my gaze, his expression softening just a fraction. "I don't make the first move, Cassie. You have my word."
I nodded, though the knot in my stomach tightened.
Elijah noticed Jenna and smiled warmly, walking over to greet her. As he did, I turned to Damon, my eyes full of concern.
"There's nothing," he said quickly, dismissing my worries.
But I wasn’t convinced. "Please don’t do anything stupid," I whispered, my voice tinged with anxiety.
He offered a reassuring smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "I won’t."
As Damon shut the front door, I noticed a man standing near Alaric—the same one I’d seen with him at the Lockwood mansion. He walked toward me, his expression curious.
"I'm John Gilbert," he introduced himself.
"Another Gilbert," I replied, my tone dry.
"Yep, Elena’s biological father."
That information hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew Elena was adopted, but I had no idea about this. "Oh," I managed to say, trying to process it.
John’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied me. "You’re the sheriff’s daughter, right?"
