Copy cat:

Justin:

I intended to grab my bag to get the hell out of this place, Vlad was very clear. Ours was a one night stand, unimportant sex. He said he hates me, that he hates my smell, my voice, even that my very presence makes him sick. He hurt me. He broke my heart and shattered my stupid hopes in the cruelest way.
He is in love with the Greek cow. He told me, dropped each word, slowly, as if they were stab wounds. For a moment everything was dyed red before my eyes, a vertigo took over my body, I wished with all my might that the ground would open up and swallow me.

So many years of dreaming, so many wasted efforts to arouse her interest...and it's all because of that bloody red-haired bitch!

I had gone out into the hall when I saw her disappear inside the lounge, I walked slowly and silently to the door of the lounge and listened to the argument they were having inside.

—I know that Justine was your wife. The woman you went crazy for, the woman you think you hate but still love. - whispers the redhead.

—Where did you get that idea from, little dove?- Vlad asks.

— When I took the envelope containing the necklace out of your safe, I saw the marriage certificate. It was not difficult for me to understand that she is the reincarnation of your late wife.

I feel like all the blood that runs through my veins freezes. This obsessive fascination I have for Vlad had always seemed strange to me. I've tried to forget him, I've had lovers, even my cousin indulges my sexual desires frequently and yet I can't get the vampire out of my mind, and now I understand why.

We were married in another life.

— Haven't they taught you that it's wrong to stick your little nose where it isn’t your business? There are things in my past that don't concern you. - Vlad says in a cynical tone.

—This does, Vlad. You love her, even if you deny it, I know it. I feel it in the sadness that fills your eyes every time you talk about her and how she betrayed you. I think, you should try to patch things up between you.

Hmm, interesting...

— I will not do it. Justina and I were forced to marry to strengthen an alliance. I don't want to repeat that mistake, I don't want her in my life. It's you I want, little dove. I want to bury my past and hope for a happier future, by your side.

The rage eats away at my mind again, I am a prisoner of an unprecedented fury. All right, the Greek bitch knows. She knows that if she disappears from the scene I will have every chance of winning Vlad back. I´m convinced that fate has brought us together again, has given us a second chance. Then it's time for you to be gone, Miss Amíntoros.
I walk away from the door and wait patiently, hidden in the shadows of the hallway.

Eleni:
Vlad leaves the lounge, and I release all the air that had been trapped in my lungs. The necklace seems to be choking me. The contact of the cold gems against my skin has made me nervous. I've been kind of paranoid lately. Feelings of ill omen invade me constantly.
And now Vlad's threat has been very clear. He's not willing to give up on me. I smile sadly as I walk out of the lounge. At another time, under other circumstances, his words would have been the most romantic thing he´s ever said to me, but this is all a horrible mess, a nightmare; from which he will not allow me to escape.
— The only good thing about all this is that you are willing to step aside.
Justine's voice snaps me out of my dark thoughts. Horror! He must have heard it all, the model approaches, impeccably dressed, perfectly coiffed, impeccably made up. She looks perfect, beautiful, regal... and looking at her hurts. How could Vlad not love a woman like that? She is tall, elegant and rich. Surely they were the perfect couple hundreds of years ago and I´m convinced that they will be again, once I´m gone.
I don't protest, I don't even make an effort to keep going. I've given up.
—My only regret is that I will win the bet with my cousin too easily. You were never a strong rival, you never had the slightest chance and now that I know that Vlad and I were destined from the beginning, I feel a little sorry for you.
I see her pout, reach into her bag and pull out a black pistol, which she points at me in seconds.
I take a few steps back and Justine smiles. It is the smile of a madwoman.
—Goodbye, Miss Amíntoros. - She murmurs.