[Hazel]
Thirteen hours ago, I used to believe Elijah Davenport was one of the best kinds of humans.
Now?
Now I’m a hundred percent sure he’s the worst.
Help, my foot! That smug billionaire didn’t come to Mystic Falls to support me—he came for revenge. This was a setup. A whole-ass plot he’s been planning with a wicked little smirk behind those fake Superman glasses.
“Can’t we just get a cart?” I huffed, dragging his three designer trunks and my own bag behind me like some underpaid bellhop.
Meanwhile, Elijah floated ahead of me like a carefree bird, hands stuffed into his pockets, humming to himself like we were on a Sunday stroll. If anyone were watching us right now, they’d think I was the assistant and he was the boss. And technically, they'd be right. But that’s not the arrangem
