Entangled with the Mafia Don novel Chapter 5

Davina's POV:

His gaze flicked dismissively towards my father, a cruel twist forming on his thin lips. "So, the ghost finally makes an appearance." His voice was low, a smooth baritone that held an undercurrent of menace. "Little Lydia's ghost. Her spitting image.. I almost believed the old man."

My blood chilled. Lydia. My mother’s name, a name rarely spoken after the divorce and the subsequent silence from my father. "What are you talking about? Who are you? What are you doing in my father's room? And how do you know my mother?" I demanded, my voice trembling despite my attempt to sound defiant.

My father’s eyes snapped open, wide with a raw, naked terror that eclipsed any anger he had shown before. Fresh crimson bloomed on the bandage around his head, a stark contrast to the white linen. His hands, gnarled and bruised, clutched the blanket so tightly his knuckles were bone white.

"Ezra," he choked out, his voice a ragged whisper that seemed to tear through his injured throat. "Please... she doesn't know anything. Leave her out of this."

Ezra’s dark eyes flicked back to me, a chilling amusement dancing in their depths. "Doesn't she? Family secrets have a way of surfacing, Malcolm." a chucke escaped his lips sending shivers down my spine "Though, if I recall the story you spun, this little one and her older sister took a rather permanent vacation thirteen years ago. A tragic plane crash, wasn't it? So convenient."

Thirteen years ago. The year my parents’ marriage imploded, the year my father vanished from my life. A cold dread washed over me, a horrifying puzzle piece clicking into place. "Dead?" I whispered, the word barely audible. "That's not true... Lexi... she's alive..."

The door swung inward, and Nathan stood framed in the doorway, his brow furrowed with concern. "Davina? Is everything alright? I just wanted to make sure you were okay after..." He trailed off, his gaze sweeping over Ezra, my father’s terrified face, and the fresh bloodstains. His protective instincts kicked in instantly. He stepped forward, placing himself between Ezra and me. "Who are you? And what are you doing in here?"

Before Ezra could utter a reply, two figures materialized behind him, hulking silhouettes that seemed to absorb the dim light. They moved with a brutal efficiency that spoke of practiced violence. One of them, a man with a shaved head and a neck thicker than my thigh, moved with lightning speed, his fist connecting with Nathan’s jaw with a sickening crack. Nathan’s eyes rolled back, and he crumpled to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

A strangled cry tore from my throat. "Oh my god, Nathan!" I try to kneel next to my brother that is bleeding. "Help.." my voice cut off.

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