Entangled with the Mafia Don novel Chapter 42

Davina's POV:

The first thing I registered was the warmth, a heavy, comforting weight draped over me. My eyes fluttered open, and the dim light of the room slowly revealed the dark, unfamiliar linens. I stirred, and the arm around my waist tightened almost imperceptibly, pulling me closer. It was Ezra.

His breath feathered against my hair, deep and even in sleep. I could feel the solid plane of his chest against my back, the powerful curve of his arm. For a fleeting moment, a wave of intense embarrassment washed over me, hot and stinging. What had I done? This was Ezra De Luca, the man who held my family's fate in his hands, the reason I was dancing in a club, the reason I was homeless. And last night… last night we had shattered every boundary.

But the embarrassment was quickly, powerfully, replaced by something else entirely. A profound sense of peace. Of safety. Of something akin to… love. It was bewildering, a dangerous, illogical emotion to feel for him, but it bloomed in my chest, warm and undeniable. His gentleness, his unexpected tenderness, the way he had taken care of me, had carved a space in my heart I hadn't known was empty. The lingering soreness in my body was a gentle reminder of the intimacy we'd shared, and it was a soreness I didn't regret.

I shifted slightly, careful not to wake him, and gently eased myself out of his embrace. The cool air on my skin was a sharp contrast to his warmth. I slipped out of bed, grabbing one of his large, impossibly soft shirts from a chair and pulling it on. It dwarfed me, falling to my knees, but it smelled of him, a comforting, masculine scent.

The kitchen was sleek and modern, gleaming chrome and dark wood. I found a pan, eggs, and bread, a surprising sense of normalcy settling over me. The rhythmic sizzle of bacon filled the silent house, a domestic sound utterly at odds with the dangerous reality of Ezra's world.

I cracked eggs into a bowl, whisking them with a quiet determination. For now, in this moment, I wanted to do something for him, a small act of gratitude for the kindness he had shown, for the care he had given. As the aroma of cooking food began to fill the kitchen, I found a strange contentment in the simple act of preparing breakfast for him, for Ezra, my first.

Ezra's POV:

The first rays of morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, painting faint patterns on the wall. Davina was still asleep beside me, her body curled into mine, her breathing soft and even. Her delicate frame felt impossibly fragile against my own. I lay there for a long moment, the scent of her, sweet and musky from our night, filling my senses. The memory of her small gasp, her whispered confession, the raw awe of her surrender, played on a loop in my mind. She was mine. I had claimed her, irrevocably.

But beneath the triumph, a different kind of sensation began to stir. A gnawing, unfamiliar guilt. Guilt for the debt that had brought her here. Guilt for the life I had forced her into. Guilt for Ivan, for the fear I had put in her eyes. And now, this. Her innocence, entrusted to me. I had taken something profound from her, and though she had given it willingly, beautifully, the weight of it pressed down on me.

My gaze drifted to the window, to the emerging cityscape of L.A. The alliance with the Sokolovs. The debt. My father’s relentless expectations. This was never supposed to happen. She was a pawn, a means to an end, not… this. Not the woman who lay trembling in my arms, who had surrendered her purest self to me.

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The thought solidified in my mind, stark and unyielding. This changed everything. I couldn’t proceed as planned. I couldn’t let Davina become a bargaining chip in my world. My decision was made with a chilling clarity.

Davina was now awake, she carefully, slowly, disentangled herself from my embrace, probably trying to not disturb my sleep. She walked out of the room and I slipped into a pair of sweatpants, my mind already racing. I walked out inside the bedroom, the vast space feeling colder, more empty now without her warmth beside me.

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