Entangled with the Mafia Don novel Chapter 23

Davina's POV:

The hum of the rented car, a beat-up hatchback that blended seamlessly, was the only sound for the first twenty minutes. Nathan drove with a quiet intensity, his jaw tight, his gaze fixed on the winding road. Beside him, I sat wrapped in a borrowed anonymity, the jeans and oversized t-shirt he’d pulled from a duffel bag feeling like a clumsy disguise but a welcome shield against the memory of the club costume. He’d even found a baseball cap, which I pulled low over my eyes, hoping to disappear.

"We need to get you something else to wear," he’d said earlier, his voice low and urgent as he’d pulled over to a quiet side road. "Something less… conspicuous." He’d produced the duffel bag, a small act of kindness that felt monumental in its significance. "These should fit. Nothing fancy."

Then, the keys. "I rented a cheap runaround. Used Cecilia’s name. Figured it wouldn’t raise any flags for a day or two." The mention of Cecilia, after what I’d witnessed, had sent a fresh wave of nausea through me, but I’d bitten back the retort. Nathan had simply said, "She… owes me a favor. Let’s just leave it at that."

We’d arrived at a secluded, almost forgotten parking lot, the asphalt cracked and overgrown with weeds, a few abandoned vehicles rusting under the morning sun. A beat-up, older model hatchback sat in a far corner, waiting. "Alright. This is it," Nathan had said, his voice quiet.

I’d changed quickly in the back seat of his car, the rough denim and cotton a welcome embrace after the flimsy silk. Pulling the baseball cap low, I’d felt a sliver of something akin to safety. "This feels… safer," I’d admitted, the words barely a whisper.

He’d handed me a small, basic mobile phone, a burner. "Prepaid. Use it for emergencies only. And change your number. Don’t try to contact anyone on your old phone." His eyes had held a deep, worried concern. "What about you? What if he comes looking for me?"

"I’ll be careful. He doesn’t know I am the one who helped you. And by the time he figures out you’re gone, you’ll be far away from here." He’d pressed a thick envelope of cash into my hand. "It’s not much, but it should get you started."

"You’ve done enough, Nathan. More than enough. Thank you."

A heavy silence had fallen, thick with unspoken goodbyes and the weight of the unknown. "Be careful, sis."

But then, beneath the familiar names, a new notification flashed. An unknown number. My blood ran cold, a prickling sensation spreading across my scalp. I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the message icon, a terrifying premonition gripping me. With a trembling hand, I tapped it open.

The message was short, brutal, and utterly chilling.

"Thought you could run, little ghost? I see you. Don't make me come find you. "

My breath hitched, a strangled gasp escaping my lips. My eyes darted to the window, then to the flimsy door, as if he could materialize through the walls. He knew. He knew where I was. The anonymity, the disguise, the burner phone – it had all been for nothing. His reach was longer, his grasp tighter than I could have ever imagined. The cold dread that had been a constant companion since this nightmare began intensified, a suffocating blanket that threatened to consume me entirely. There was no escape.