The cold concrete floor scraped against my knees as I struggled to get up, but his boot landed on my back, pressing me down. I couldn’t breathe. My vision blurred, a sickening pulse pounding in my skull.

 

"Stay down," his voice rasped, low and menacing, dripping with disdain. Dominic Mikaelson loomed over me like a shadow—a demon in a suit, his icy stare boring into my soul.

 

"I didn’t do anything," I gasped, wincing as his boot dug deeper into my spine. "I just want to see Damon."

 

He barked a laugh, cold and unforgiving. "Damon? You think my son wants anything to do with you? A filthy little whore like you?"

 

My chest tightened, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out his words, trying to remember the way Damon looked at me, the way his touch used to feel. But it was useless. Dominic knelt down, his hand tangling painfully in my hair, yanking my head back.

 

"You’re nothing but a mistake," he hissed, his breath hot and foul against my ear. "You thought I wouldn’t find out? Thought I wouldn’t know about your little accident?"

 

My blood ran cold. He knew. Somehow, he knew.

 

"Please," I whispered, fighting the tears that stung my eyes. "Please, don’t.."

 

He pulled me up by my hair and slammed me into the wall, my skull cracking against the brick. Stars burst across my vision. I tried to swing at him; jab, kick, anything, but my body was too weak, too fragile. My hands shook as I aimed a punch at his face, but he caught my wrist mid-air and twisted it painfully behind my back.

 

"Stop fighting," he snarled. "You think your little wrestling tricks scare me? You’re just a desperate, knocked-up brat who thought could trap my son."

 

I gritted my teeth, trying to wrench free, but he was too strong. Dominic slammed his fist into my stomach, and I folded over, pain ripping through me. My hands instinctively covered my belly, my mind screaming to protect the baby.

 

"You ruined him," he spat. "My son, tainted by a gutter rat like you."

 

He shoved me to the ground, and I clawed at the floor, forcing myself up despite the agony radiating from my abdomen. My vision swam, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me broken.

He knelt behind me, his hand gripping the back of my neck, and I felt bile rise in my throat. When he tore at my clothes, panic surged through me, and I thrashed against him. I screamed, scratching, biting, anything to make him stop.

 

"You’ll learn your place," he growled, forcing me back down as I sobbed, the ache in my stomach intensifying.

 

"You’re nothing, Cassie. Nothing but trash."

 

I jolted upright, gasping for air, my chest heaving as I clawed at my own skin, trying to tear away the filth that still lingered. The room spun around me, drenched in darkness.

 

"Help me...COLTON!!!!!" I shouted

but it was just my bedroom, my old bedroom, safe and familiar.

 

My hands were trembling, drenched in sweat, and my throat was raw from screaming. I felt hollow, my soul fractured into pieces too small to ever fit back together.

 

"Damon," I whispered, voice quivering.

 

"Damon..." But he wasn’t here. He hadn’t been here for months.

 

The door slammed open, and Dad rushed in, eyes wild and frantic. His gaze swept the room, searching for a threat, but his shoulders relaxed when he saw me.

 

"Cassie!" he panted, moving closer. "What happened? Are you okay?"

 

I stared at him, feeling the familiar rage bubble up from somewhere deep inside once again, somewhere very dark. A low, almost feral laugh spilled from my lips, and I couldn’t stop it. The sound was foreign, twisted, and I relished the way it made Dad flinch.

 

"He thinks he can get away with what he did to us," I snarled, my voice not my own, it was deeper, colder, like shards of ice slipping from my tongue.

 

Dad froze, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Who? What are you talking about? Did someone hurt you, Cassie?"

 

I met his gaze, eyes blazing, and I saw his unease deepen. "I am not Cassie," I hissed, lips curling into a smirk. "My name is Vanity."

 

My darkness finally has a name.

 

Dad took a cautious step closer, confusion flickering across his face. "Vanity? Cassie, what are you—"

 

But I just smiled—a wicked, dangerous smile that made his breath hitch.

 

He turned his head toward the hallway and yelled, "Summer! Get in here!"

 

My lips parted in a slow, predatory grin. Vanity was here now. And somehow, Dominic Mikaelson would pay.

 

Mom appeared in the doorway; her face etched with concern. Her eyes narrowed as they fell on me, sensing something wasn’t right. I could feel her scrutiny, the way she read me like a predator sizing up a threat. For a moment, I admired her—the ruthlessness in her gaze, the quiet but fierce determination to protect.

 

Dad sat at the edge of my bed, his eyes wide and helpless, and it struck me—I'd never seen him like that before. He always knew what to do, how to protect us, but now, he looked lost.

 

It almost made me laugh.

 

Mom took a step closer, her tone cautious but firm. "Cassie, what’s going on?"

 

A slow, sinister smile spread across my face as I looked her up and down, sizing her up just as she was doing to me. I felt a kinship with her—a familiar darkness. She would do anything for her family, just as I would do anything to protect Cassie.

 

Cassie's voice cried out in the back of my mind, weak and afraid. Stop! Please, stop! Let me out! I fought against the tide, trying to push forward. 

but I shoved her back down, whispering, Rest now. I’m here to fight.

 

Tears welled in my eyes, and I heard myself whimper, "Daddy..." My voice wavered, breaking through the harshness. Dad leaned in closer, his hand reaching for mine.

 

"Cassie? Sweetheart?" he whispered, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. His calm voice anchored me, and I clung to it, fighting to surface.

 

I'm coming, daddy..I'm coming.

 

My body shook, torn between wanting to push him away and needing to be held. Vanity snarled in frustration, but dad didn’t let go, wrapping his arms around me, his voice low and soothing. "We’re right here, Cassie. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together as family should."

 

Slowly, I sank into his embrace, letting the warmth break through the cold that gripped my soul. Vanity’s presence faded, and I buried my face in his chest, sobbing.

 

Mom knelt beside us, her hand gently stroking my hair, and I let out a shuddering breath. Relief flooded through me as I whispered, "Mom...Dad...I’m so scared."

 

Dad pressed a kiss to my forehead, holding me tighter. "It’s okay, baby girl. We’re here. You’re safe."

 

But deep down, I knew Vanity was still there—lurking, waiting. And for the first time, I was terrified of myself.