Entangled with the Mafia Don novel Chapter 27

Davina's POV:

The first rays of dawn, pale and hesitant, crept through the gaps in the cheap motel curtains, painting weak stripes across the worn bedspread. I woke slowly, a dull ache throbbing behind my eyes, my body stiff and sore from the night's enforced stillness. For a moment, disoriented and groggy, I didn't recognize my surroundings. The stale air, the harsh light, the unfamiliar scent of expensive cologne… then the memory of the previous night crashed down on me, a suffocating wave of horror and shame.

My eyes flickered open, and the first thing I saw was Ezra.

He was asleep, his face relaxed and strangely… peaceful. The harsh lines of anger and control were softened in slumber, revealing a glimpse of the man beneath the mask. For a fleeting moment, I saw a vulnerability there, a hint of something… human. But the illusion shattered as quickly as it formed.

And then I realized. I was in his embrace.

My back was pressed against his chest, his arm draped possessively across my waist, his hand resting lightly on my hip. The realization sent a jolt of revulsion through me. All through the night, I had been held captive, not just by the physical restraint of the cuffs, but by his proximity, by his… touch.

I tried to move, to put some distance between us, to escape the suffocating closeness. But the chain, the cold, heavy chain that bound us together, rattled mockingly, reminding me of my captivity. My movements were restricted, each inch of progress met with the unyielding resistance of the cuffs. I shifted again, more forcefully this time, desperate to break free, to put as much space as possible between us.

The movement stirred him. His eyes flickered open, his gaze instantly alert, possessive. He tightened his grip on my waist, a subtle, almost imperceptible possessiveness. "Where do you think you're going?" His voice was rough with sleep, but the underlying threat was unmistakable.

I didn't answer, my gaze fixed on his face, my body tense and rigid. I tried to pull away again, but the chain was too short, my movements too constrained. I fell back against the pillows, defeated, my heart pounding against my ribs.

Ezra loomed over me, his gaze intense, his dark eyes studying my face with a disconcerting intensity. There was something… different in his expression this morning. A strange mix of anger and… something else. A flicker of… fascination? A possessive hunger that made my skin crawl.

The air crackled with an unspoken tension, an electric charge that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. His gaze lingered on my bare skin, a slow, possessive caress that made me feel exposed and vulnerable. I wanted to recoil, to cover myself from his hungry eyes, but the cuffs held me captive, bound to his presence.

For a long, agonizing moment, we remained like that, locked in a silent battle of wills, the air thick with unspoken desires and a simmering, dangerous power. Then, with a sigh that seemed to release some of the tension in the room, Ezra reached for the key, unlocking the handcuffs.

The sudden release was almost disorienting. I scrambled away from him, my movements clumsy and hurried, desperate to put something on me us as possible. I grabbed my discarded clothes, pulling them on with trembling hands, my gaze fixed on the floor, avoiding his eyes.

"Get dressed," he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. "I'm taking you home."

The drive back was silent and fraught with tension. Ezra didn't speak, his gaze fixed on the road, his expression unreadable. I sat huddled in the passenger seat, my body tense and rigid, the lingering memory of his touch making my skin crawl.

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