Entangled with the Mafia Don novel Chapter 43

Ezra's POV:

The scent of bacon still lingered in the air, mixing with the heady aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Davina, still wearing my shirt that swallowed her frame, was a domestic vision I hadn't known I craved. She turned from the stove, a soft smile gracing her lips, and my gaze dropped to her bare legs, a subtle reminder of our night. I crossed the kitchen, drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

"Morning," she murmured, her voice a little husky from sleep.

I didn't reply with words. Instead, I pulled her close, her small body fitting perfectly against mine. My hand found the back of her neck, tilting her head up, and I kissed her, slowly at first, tasting the coffee and the sweetness that was uniquely her own. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, a hungry claim. Her fingers, still holding the spatula, tangled in my hair, pulling me closer still. The world outside, the looming conflict, the heavy burden of my decisions, all faded into the background. All that existed was the feel of her lips, the taste of her, the undeniable pull between us.

Then, the sudden, sharp sound of the kitchen door swinging open, followed by a derisive scoff, shattered.

"What in God's name do you think you're doing, Ezra?!"

My body tensed instantly. I broke the kiss, stepping back from Davina, shielding her instinctively. My father, Lorenzo De Luca, stood in the doorway, his face a mask of thunderous rage, his eyes sweeping over Davina, who was still wearing my oversized shirt, her cheeks flushing crimson. His gaze lingered on her bare legs, then flickered to me, burning with accusation.

"And you," Lorenzo snarled, his voice cutting through the air like a whip, his gaze now fixed solely on Davina. "You think you can just waltz in here, warm my son's bed, and unravel years of strategic planning?" He took a step into the room, his presence dominating the space. "You're nothing but a distraction, a common whore from the club. A used one at that, if memory serves from Ivan's unfortunate incident." His words were a venomous assault, calculated to humiliate and destroy.

Davina flinched, shrinking behind me, her fragile peace instantly dissolving into raw shame. "Father!" I growled, my voice a low, dangerous rumble, a warning note that rarely needed repeating. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, my desire to snap his neck warring with the need to protect Davina from his toxic presence.

But Lorenzo wasn't finished. His eyes, cold and hard, fixed on Davina, ignoring my threat, his fury directed at her as the perceived cause of my defiance. "You think this is a game? You think you can just entice my son to break his sacred vows? To cancel an engagement that seals the fragile peace we just brokered with the Sokolovs after your little stray incident?!" He emphasized "stray" with a cruel sneer, twisting the knife.

The blood drained from Davina's face. Her eyes, wide and horrified, shot from my father's sneering face to mine. "Engagement?" she whispered, the word a fragile breath. Her gaze was locked on me, searching, accusing, the light draining from them like a dying ember. "Ezra... what is he talking about?"

My carefully constructed facade crumbled. I saw the dawning realization, the stark pain blossoming in her eyes. The consequences of my call to my father, the ramifications of my attempt to protect her from one kind of danger, had just delivered a fatal blow from another.

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