Leo remained where he was, his back again st the cool pillar. The idea of going upstairs to the historical wing by himself grew more appealing. He wasn't Caroline's employee, obligated to wait in one spot just because she said so. He was his own person. He could make his own choice and go where he pleased.
Just then, the mansion's large front doors opened. Elena Gilbert entered with her guardian, Aunt Jenna. They both stopped just inside the grand foyer, taking in the scene. A waiter immediately glided over to them, holding out a silver tray filled with slender glasses of wine.With well-mannered grace, Elena and Jenna each took a glass, holding the stems carefully between their fingers.
Aunt Jenna turned to Elena, scanning the busy room. "I should go say hello to a few people I promised I'd see," Jenna said, taking a small sip of her wine. "You should try to enjoy yourself, okay? Mingle a little."
Elena gave a quiet, acknowledging nod. "I will. Don't worry about me."
With a final reassuring smile, Jenna moved into the crowd, leaving Elena standing alone near the entrance. Elena took a slow breath, her eyes immediately beginning to search the faces in the room. She wasn't looking for anyone in her friend group. She was looking for one specific, handsome face that had been stuck in her mind.
Her gaze traveled over the clusters of guests near the fireplace, the piano, and the dance floor. Then, she spotted him.
He was standing next to a large, smooth pillar and the wide leaves of a potted fern. He stood perfectly still, both hands tucked into his pants pockets, detached from the lively flow of the party around him. He was simply watching everyone else, a faint, bored frown on his face as he observed the crowd.
A small smile touched Elena's lips. Seeing him there alone, looking so separate from the glittering scene, made something in her chest soften. She knew Caroline was probably nearby in the room, but at this moment, it didn't seem to matter. Leo had already been clear that he only saw her as a friend. The thought brought a familiar, resigned ache, but it also removed the pressure. She could just go talk to him.
Holding her wine glass carefully, Elena began to make her way through the crowd, moving steadily toward the quiet boy in the shadows by the pillar.
The familiar feeling crept up the back of Leo's neck—the distinct, sharp sense that someone's attention was fixed on him. It was a feeling he knew well. He stopped leaning against the pillar and turned his head, his eyes searching the bustling crowd near the mansion's main entrance.
His gaze moved past clusters of chatting guests and waiters with trays until it suddenly locked onto a single figure.
It was Elena. A part of his mind had already assumed she was upstairs in the closed-off historical section. Finding her here instead, in the middle of the bright, noisy ballroom, was unexpectedly better.
She was wearing a dress the color of a ripe persimmon, a vibrant, solid orange. It was a cocktail dress that fell to just above her knees, simple and elegant. The top was strapless, a clean line across her chest, and it looked like it was made of smooth silk that caught the light from the chandelier. She looked… different. Striking. The word beautiful formed in his mind before he could stop it.
The unexpected sight of her, and the sudden, strong reaction it caused, made him pause for a half-second. His expression, which had been bored and closed, opened briefly in genuine astonishment. He quickly got hold of himself, his features settling back into a more neutral, polite look. He wasn't frowning anymore, but he wasn't smiling either.
Across the room, Elena saw his eyes land on her. She saw the brief change in his face—the surprise, the quick once-over, the momentary stillness. Her happiness grew more.It wasn't a triumphant feeling; it was just a simple, pleased awareness that he had noticed her.
She continued walking toward him, navigating the final few steps through the guests. When she reached him by the pillar, she offered a small, soft smile. It was a friendly and slightly shy greeting type.
"Hey," Elena said, her voice warm. She gave him a small, genuine smile. "You look good."
"Thanks. You too," Leo replied. His eyes met hers for a brief, steady moment before he glanced toward the grand staircase at the far end of the ballroom. He kept his voice low. "We should go upstairs. I heard there's some interesting historical stuff up there. Old diaries, portraits. It's supposed to be closed off, but the balcony is open." He made a slight gesture with his hand toward the second floor.His curiosity was real—he wanted to see what was up there. But he also had another, private reason. Somewhere in that forgotten part of the house, he still needed to find the Bennett family locket. This was the perfect chance to look for it.
Elena's heart gave a little jump. She nodded quickly, trying not to seem too eager. "Yes," she said, her voice soft but firm. "Let's go see." Inside, a wave of quiet relief washed over her. This was what she had secretly hoped for when she decided to come tonight—a chance to be alone with him, away from the crowd and away from everyone.
They both turned and started walking toward the wide staircase, moving along with the general flow of guests who were drifting between the ballroom and the other downstairs rooms. As they walked, Leo's eyes quickly scanned the crowd. He spotted Caroline near the large piano. She was standing with a well-dressed couple, her body angled toward them. Her head was tilted back in a light, charming laugh at something the woman had just said. She was completely focused on the conversation, not glancing around the room at all. She didn't see him walking away.
A quiet sense of relief settled over him. This was better. He wasn't her servant, obligated to stand in one spot like a piece of furniture just because she had ordered him to. He had waited, like she asked. That was enough. The idea of staying put any longer just because she said so now it seems foolish.
Elena saw where he was looking. She followed his gaze for a second and saw Caroline laughing by the piano. A small, understanding thought formed in her mind. He came with her, she reasoned. Of course he's checking on her. It's just polite behaviour. She didn't feel jealous, just a mild acknowledgment of the situation. Then she turned her attention forward, focusing on the stairs ahead.
They reached the bottom step and began to climb the wide staircase. With each step upward, the bright, overwhelming noise of the party below them began to change. The lively music from the string quartet grew softer and more distant. The constant clinking sound of glasses touching became muffled. The layered hum of dozens of conversations blended together into a faint, indistinct rumble, like the sound of the ocean heard from far away.
As they climbed higher, that noise was replaced by a new, deeper silence. It was the quiet of the mansion's upper floor—an older, heavier stillness that seemed to soak up sound. The air itself felt different; cooler, and smelling less of perfume and more of wood polish and old paper.
When they reached the top of the stairs, the second floor revealed itself. It was completely different from the sparkling ballroom below. They stood in a long, wide hallway. The floor was covered with a thick, patterned carpet that swallowed the sound of their footsteps. The walls were a deep, muted color, lined with many tall doors made of dark, heavy wood. Some of these doors were closed tight. Others stood partway open, inviting guests to peek inside. Soft light spilled from these open doorways, illuminating the quiet hall.
They chose one of the open doors and walked inside. The room they entered felt immediately like a small museum. The walls were painted a plain, bright white, which made everything else in the room stand out clearly. Hanging on one long wall was a straight row of large, old-fashioned photo frames. Inside each frame was a black-and-white portrait of a person from Mystic Falls's past. The men and women in the pictures looked serious and formal, their clothes from another century, their eyes staring out from the past without smiling.
Along another wall were several glass display cases sitting on wooden stands. Inside one case was a rusty, metal surveying tool with a complicated dial. In another case lay a single, old-fashioned lady's glove, made of white lace that had faded to a yellowish cream. A third case held a small collection of tarnished silver coins, their details worn smooth with age.
But the main object in the room stood in the very center. On a low, sturdy pedestal was a large, square slab of marble. It was pale gray and looked very heavy and solid. It was clearly a memorial stone, the kind that lists important names. The surface of the marble was perfectly smooth and polished. Carved into that smooth surface was a list of names. The letters were deep and elegantly shaped, painted a dark color so they would be easy to read from a few steps away.
Elena and Leo walked across the quiet room until they stood directly in front of the large marble stone. Elena's eyes moved slowly down the list of carved family names, one by one. Suddenly, she stopped. She turned her head toward Leo, her expression one of soft astonishment. She reached out, pointing her finger at a name carved neatly near the middle of the list.
"Look," she said, her voice a quiet whisper in the still room. She sounded genuinely surprised. "Your family name is here, too."
Leo looked where she pointed. Carved clearly into the stone was his surname. A jolt of genuine surprise hit him. He hadn't expected to find it here. His own research had only shown a minor, distant connection to the Gilbert family. Seeing his name etched permanently into the town's founding history meant the connection was deeper than he'd thought. He would definitely need to look into this more.
Leo's gaze continued downward, tracing the elegant carved letters. Near the bottom of the list, his eyes stopped. Two names were chiseled side-by-side: Salvatore. Right next to them were the first names: Damon and Stefan.
He turned his head to look at Elena. She was also staring at the same spot on the stone. A small, puzzled frown had appeared on her face as she read the names.
Leo kept his voice casual, making his tone sound light and almost joking. "Elena," he said, nodding toward the carving. "That's a funny coincidence, isn't it? We have a classmate named Stefan Salvatore." He already knew the truth—it was no coincidence at all. This old stone was solid proof, left behind in the flow of time, of what the Salvatore brothers really were. But that proof didn't matter to him anymore. He had already dealt with them. This piece of history was just a curious artifact now, not a useful tool.
Elena didn't answer right away. Her frown deepened just a little.
Neither of them had noticed the quiet figure now standing in the open doorway. Stefan had just arrived upstairs. He heard his name and saw them looking at the stone. His heart sank. He heard Leo's question, phrased to plant doubt in Elena's mind. He knew he had to say something to control the flow, or who knows what Leo might decide to tell her.
"Actually," Stefan said from the doorway. He kept his voice calm and polite, carefully choosing words that wouldn't sound like a challenge. A deep-seated fear of Leo made him extra cautious not to sound offensive. He forced a small, humble smile. "They were my ancestors. Our family has been in Mystic Falls for a long time. It's… not that unusual. The names just happen to match." He offered the simple explanation calmly, directing his answer more toward Elena. He hoped the logical reason would ease her curiosity and, more urgently, would not provoke the dangerous young man standing silently beside her.
***
Bonnie will not be in this party .It will be the same as the show.