MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

Elena waited patiently for the right moment to approach Duncan Salvador. Days turned into weeks as she carefully observed his moods, looking for the perfect opportunity to bring up Damien's request.

Meanwhile, across the city, Damien grew increasingly restless. He paced his room - or rather, wheeled back and forth in his chair - his mind churning with possibilities and plans. Every knock at the door sent a jolt of anticipation through him. But as the days stretched on with no word from Elena, that anticipation slowly soured into frustration and doubt.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of crimson and gold, Elena found Duncan in his private garden. He stood motionless, admiring a blood-red rose, its petals unfurling in the fading light.

"My lord," Elena said softly, approaching with measured steps.

Duncan turned, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Elena. Come, join me. Isn't it beautiful?" He gestured to the rose. "Such delicate beauty, yet with thorns sharp enough to draw blood. Much like our kind, wouldn't you say?"

Elena nodded, seizing the opportunity his good mood presented. "Indeed, my lord. Speaking of our kind, there is a matter I wished to discuss with you."

Duncan's eyebrow arched slightly, but his smile remained. "Oh? Do tell."

Elena took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "It's about Damien Durello, the vampire who once held significant influence in the five houses and of course, in ancroft."

"Ah, yes. The one I instructed Tessa to ignore. He isn't what my time" Duncan mused. "Now, what about him?"

"He seeks an audience with you, my lord," Elena said, watching Duncan's reaction closely. "He's... intrigued by the power you represent."

Duncan chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Is he now? And what would I do with a fallen prince, my dear Elena?"

Elena paused weighing her response. She pressed on, her voice taking on a note of urgency. "Please, my lord, hear me out. Damien's ambitions align with our own. He could be a valuable asset if restored to power. And..." she hesitated, then forged ahead, "I fear something terrible may befall him if he doesn't regain his strength soon."

Duncan's eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into his gaze. "You seem unusually invested in this, Elena. Why do you care so much about Damien's fate?"

Elena swallowed hard, knowing she was treading on dangerous ground. "I... I owe him a favor, my lord. A debt from the past that I feel compelled to repay."

For a long moment, Duncan said nothing, simply studying her face. Then, slowly, he nodded. "I see. Our kind must honor our debts, it's true."

Elena continued. "Yes, my lord. Damien is cunning, ambitious. With proper guidance, he could be a valuable asset to our cause."

Duncan considered this, idly tracing the edge of a rose petal with his finger. "Perhaps. Or perhaps he seeks to manipulate us for his own gain. Ambition can be a double-edged sword, after all."

"True," Elena conceded. "But if anyone can see through his schemes, it's you, my lord. And if he proves unworthy... well, I'm sure you can find a fitting use for him."

A slow, predatory smile spread across Duncan's face. "Indeed. Very well, Elena. Arrange the meeting. Let's see what the fallen prince has to offer."

As Elena bowed and turned to leave, Duncan called out, "Oh, and Elena? Make him wait a little longer. Let's see how he handles... anticipation."

Elena bowed her head, masking her mixed emotions. "As you wish, my lord. Thank you for your understanding."

As she turned to leave, Duncan's voice stopped her once more. "Oh, and Elena? Do remember where your true loyalties lie. Debts are one thing, but betrayal... that's quite another."

The threat in his words was clear, sending a chill down Elena's spine as she hurried from Duncan's presence.

Meanwhile, across the city in the luxurious suite at the Grand Plaza Hotel, Damien Durello was reaching the end of his patience. He wheeled his chair back and forth across the plush carpet, his frustration palpable in the air.

"Where is she, Mimic?" he snarled at the shapeshifter lounging on the sofa. "What game is Elena playing at?"

Mimic shrugged, her form rippling slightly as she shifted positions. "Perhaps she's simply being cautious, my lord. Salvador isn't known for his patience or forgiveness."

Damien slammed his fist on the arm of his wheelchair. "Caution be damned! Every day we wait is another day my enemy grow stronger. I need this meeting, Mimic. I need Salvador's power if I'm to reclaim what's mine."

Mimic sat up, her eyes serious. "And what if Salvador refuses? What then, my lord?"

Damien's face darkened. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Days passed in tense silence, Damien growing more agitated with each sunset. Finally, on the fortnight, a sharp knock at the door broke the monotony.

Mimic answered, her eyes widening in surprise. "My lord, it's... it's Drake."

Damien wheeled around, his heart racing. Drake, Elena's most trusted knight, stood in the doorway, his imposing figure filling the frame.

"Damien Durello," Drake's deep voice rumbled through the room. "Lord Salvador has considered your request. He will grant you an audience."

Relief and anticipation warred in Damien's chest. "When?" he demanded, unable to keep the eagerness from his voice.

Drake's lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "Tomorrow night. At the old cathedral on the edge of town. Come alone, and come prepared to prove your worth."

With that, he turned and left, leaving Damien and Mimic to exchange worried glances.

"My lord," Mimic said softly, "are you sure about this? It could be a trap."

Damien's eyes gleamed with a mixture of fear and determination. "Trap or not, Mimic, this is my chance. Perhaps my only chance. We proceed as planned."

As night fell the following evening, Damien sat before his mirror, carefully applying the cosmetics that would hide the worst of his weakened state. His hand trembled slightly as he worked, the weight of what was to come pressing down on him.

"Whatever happens tonight," he murmured to his reflection, "there's no turning back now."

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