Entangled with the Mafia Don novel Chapter 44

Davina's POV:

The slam of the heavy front door echoed in my ears, a brutal punctuation mark on the shattering truth. One moment, I was in Ezra's arms, the next, his father's venomous words had ripped open a gaping wound, exposing a betrayal so profound it stole my breath. Engaged. The word spun in my head, a cruel, mocking dance with the memories of his tenderness, his powerful body, his whispered promises from hours, or perhaps mere minutes, ago.

I ran. I didn't know where I was going, only that I had to escape the suffocating walls of his house, escape the ugly truth that clung to me like the very shirt on my back. His shirt. The symbol of our intimacy, now a stark reminder of his deception. The fabric, once comforting, felt like a shroud of humiliation.

The morning sun, once promising, now felt like a harsh spotlight on my bare legs, my disheveled hair, my tear-streaked face. I navigated the familiar, yet now alien, streets. The city, usually bustling with early morning life, felt indifferent to my shattered world. People strolled by, laughing, oblivious. Their normalcy was a stark contrast to the earthquake rocking my soul.

Tears streamed down my face, hot and relentless, blurring the shops and cafes into a watery haze. Every step was a fresh stab of pain, each breath a choked sob. He had used me. He had taken my first, my innocence, all while promised to another. And the debt… the debt was tangled in it all. Was I nothing more than a convenient diversion? A conquest before a proper alliance? The thought twisted my stomach. A common whore from the club. Lorenzo's cruel words echoed, magnified by my own despair.

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Hours bled into one another. The morning sun climbed, then slowly began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. My feet ached, my throat was raw from crying, and the chill of the evening air began to bite at my skin. I wandered aimlessly, through quiet residential streets, then back towards the main thoroughfares, a ghost in a city that refused to stop moving. Hunger gnawed, but it was nothing compared to the hollowness in my chest. I had nowhere to go. I couldn't go back to the club, not yet. I couldn't face Ezra. I couldn't face anyone.

I was huddled on a bench near a dimly lit park, shivering, when a car pulled over silently beside me. The window glided down, revealing Andrea's familiar, concerned face. His usually impassive expression was etched with worry, his dark eyes sweeping over my disheveled state.

"Davina," he said, his voice quiet, devoid of his usual formality. "Thank God. We've been looking everywhere for you."

I flinched, instinctively recoiling. "Looking for me?" My voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. "To drag me back? No. I'm not going back to him. Not now. Not ever." The thought of facing Ezra, of confronting the depth of his betrayal, was unbearable.

Andrea sighed, a heavy, tired sound. "He's… frantic. He's been looking for you everywhere. He wants you to be safe. I'm not here to force you. But you can't stay out here like this. It's not safe for you, especially not in that condition." He glanced pointedly at my bare legs and the oversized shirt. "Where do you want me to take you?"

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