Entangled with the Mafia Don novel Chapter 14

Davina's POV:

The cool L.A night air, hit my bare skin like a physical shock. Goosebumps erupted across my arms and legs, a stark reminder of my near-nakedness and the volatile situation I had just fled. I stood just outside the Devil's Club's grimy back entrance, the heavy bass still throbbing in my ears, a persistent reminder of the gilded cage I couldn't escape. My breath came in ragged, trembling gasps, visible in the dim light filtering from the flickering bulb above the steel door. The cold seeped into me, a deep, bone-chilling cold that offered a perverse kind of solace, a physical discomfort that momentarily overshadowed the suffocating fear and anger still churning within me.

A moment later, the heavy steel door creaked open, and Ezra emerged, his imposing figure silhouetted against the warm, inviting light spilling from the club's interior. His expression was unreadable in the dimness of the alleyway, a mask of shadows and sharp angles.

"Davina," he said, his voice surprisingly calm, the earlier fury seemingly banked, though the underlying steel was still undeniably present. "Come back inside. You're freezing. You'll catch your death out here dressed like that."

I shook my head vehemently, clutching my bare arms to my chest, the flimsy white and silver costume offering less warmth than a whisper. "No. Leave me alone. Just... just go back inside." The thought of stepping back into that oppressive atmosphere, back under his suffocating control, filled me with a fresh wave of near-panic. The alleyway, cold and damp as it was, felt like a vast improvement.

He took a deliberate step closer, his presence radiating a quiet, undeniable authority that was both intimidating and, in a strange, unsettling way, compelling. "You're being foolish, Davina. You can't stay out here all night. It's not safe, and it won't solve anything."

"Yes, I can," I retorted, my voice trembling despite my desperate attempt at defiance. "Just... just leave me alone. Please." The word felt foreign and pathetic on my lips, a plea to a man who seemed incapable of understanding such a sentiment.

He closed the remaining distance between us in two swift, silent strides, his hand reaching out and gently but firmly cupping my chin, tilting my face upwards, forcing me to look directly into his dark, intense eyes. They held a gaze that seemed to pierce right through my flimsy defenses, seeing the fear and vulnerability I desperately tried to conceal. I trembled uncontrollably, the cold seeping deeper into my bones, but also a visceral reaction to his touch, to his unexpected proximity. There was a strange energy that emanated from him, a potent mix of danger and a raw, almost magnetic pull.

He seemed to notice my shivering, the way my teeth were beginning to chatter, a flicker of something unreadable – perhaps not sympathy, but something akin to a detached observation – crossing his sharp features. Without a word, his other hand moved to the lapel of his expensive leather jacket, shrugging it off his broad shoulders. Before I could even register his intention or protest the unexpected gesture, he gently placed the warm, heavy jacket over my bare shoulders. The weight of it, still retaining the faint warmth of his body and the subtle scent of his cologne, was surprisingly comforting, a small, incongruous act of unexpected consideration in the midst of the surrounding chaos.

We stood there for a long, suspended moment, the only sounds the distant, muffled throb of the club's music and my own ragged, uneven breathing. His hand still cupped my chin, his thumb gently stroking my cheekbone, his gaze locked intently on mine. The raw anger that had flared so violently between us moments ago seemed to have momentarily dissipated, replaced by a strange, charged silence, a fragile truce in our volatile dynamic. His dark eyes flickered down to my lips, lingering there for a fleeting second, and a confusing mix of fear, a reluctant, unwanted awareness, and a desperate yearning stirred within me.

The space between us seemed to shrink, the air crackling with an unspoken tension, a silent question hanging between us. We moved closer, an almost imperceptible shift, drawn together by a force I didn't understand, a dangerous magnetism that defied the animosity that had just separated us.

Just as his head began to tilt, just as I instinctively moved closer, a voice, sharp and assessing, cut through the cool night air.

"Ezra?"

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