Chapter Ten | Mikaelson vs. Mikaelson

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Elijah

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Elijah

Niklaus and I flew out of the cab the second it pulled up to the mansion.

Kol was pacing outside the door, phone in hand, harsh lines creasing his face.

He had arrived about ten minutes earlier, rushing back home once I alerted him that something was wrong.

Shortly after his arrival, he called to inform us that the front door guards had been locked in the shed, and Evelyn and Amelia were both missing without a trace.

"It's my fault, Elijah. I should have waited until you came back before leaving..." Kol shook his head, and I could feel the weight of his guilt.

"Later," I snapped. "Right now, we find them."

"Sir? I found this by the front door." One of our employees, Aiden, held up a yellow sticky note. The M on this one appeared to be written in actual blood.

I grabbed it from his hands, while my brothers crowded around me.

"That's not blood, Elijah. It's jam. Just another one of Father's little intimidation tactics," Niklaus assured me.

He flicked the paper, and the scent of strawberries wafted over to me. I sighed in temporary relief.

My eyes landed on small type at the bottom of the paper. It was so small I'd nearly missed it.

720 Imperial Drive

"There's an address. Come on, we'll take the Bentley."

I pulled out my phone to make a phone call I'd been anticipating, as we piled into the car.

***

After following the instructions on the GPS and driving far above the posted speed limit, we arrived at an old abandoned warehouse.

"What the bloody hell is this?" Kol hissed as we stepped outside.

Although our first instinct was to rush inside, I held up a hand.

"Brothers, use your best judgement. We cannot let our emotions overpower common sense," I reminded them in a hushed tone.

They each had the tendency to act without thinking, and I would not let their tempers be the reason one of my girls got hurt.

I spotted a door and we moved quickly, stopping to look for any unwanted company before trying to turn the handle.

The moment I reached for the doorknob, the door swung open, and I was greeted by a familiar face.

"Elijah," he smirked.

My hand curled into an angry fist.

"Oliver. I always knew that someday my knuckles would end up buried in your jaw."

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