91

Isabella

Damon sat beside me in the van as we pulled out of the underground parking lot. It was still dark outside, and upon inspection on my phone, I saw that it was barely 4:38 a.m.

"We have a long drive," he said to me. "At least an hour and a half journey, and I want us to get there quickly." Damon was currently scrolling through his phone and then texting with quick movements of his fingers.

Suddenly, heat rushed to my cheeks as I thought about his fingers working on me the night before. I reached the conclusion last night that he had been holding back on me, but for a good reason.

"If I do everything I want to do to you, you're going to run away. I don't want you running away from me, princess," he taunted last night.

Paula and Michael were in the van behind us, with Miguel also with them, while Alessandro sat alone in the backseat. I counted nine men close to Damon.

In my mind, the only ones I was familiar with were Philippe, Miguel, Alessandro, and Michael. Another one