LOGINDavina's POV:
As I stumbled out of the dimly lit room and into the brighter hallway, a figure emerged from the shadows near the nurses' station. My father's wife, Federica. Her face, usually carefully composed, was a mask of cold fury. Her eyes, sharp and unforgiving, locked onto mine.
"Well, well," she sneered, her voice low and venomous. "Look what the cat dragged in. Back to pick over the bones, are you?"
My own emotions, raw and exposed from my encounter with my father, flared into anger. "What are you talking about, Federica? Your husband is the one beaten half to death! Instead of talking nonesense, maybe you should take better care of my father."
"What do you imply you little viper?" she hissed, taking a step closer. "Your reappearance can only bring trouble. You were better off staying away, just like your precious sister."
Her words were like a dagger in my heart, each syllable laced with years of resentment. "Don't you dare talk about my sister!" I retorted, my voice rising. "I came to see my father, because I was told he had a heart attacked and he wanted to see me. "
"Lies!" Federica spat, her face inches from mine. "You're nothing but a bad omen, Davina. Always have been. Your father would neverr want to speak to you. "
"You are one to speak, stepmother. If it wasn't of your loose morals, my parents would still be with my mother. His real wife." I said with all the rage I've been holding inside me for years.
Her hand shot out, catching me off guard. The force of the slap rocked my head, a sharp sting blooming on my cheek. Federica's slap landed with a sickening thwack, the force of it sending a jolt through my skull. The immediate sting was nothing compared to the burning humiliation of being assaulted in a public hallway, the shocked faces of strangers a blur in my vision.
"You venomous little leech!" Federica snarled, her breath hot and laced with years of pent-up hatred. "You think you can just waltz back in here after all this time and accuse me? No wonder your father left your mother. She couldn't raise her daughter to keep her mouth shut!"
"Don't you dare bring my mother into this!" My own anger, simmering since my father's brutal rejection, finally boiled over. "This has nothing to do with her! Your husband is lying in there, beaten! Shouldn't you be more concerned about that than slinging insults?"
"Concerned?" Federica's laugh was sharp and brittle. "This is probably your fault somehow! You always were trouble, a dark cloud hanging over this family from the moment you were born!"
Before I could react, two figures appeared as if from nowhere. Cecilia, Federica's daughter from her previous marriage, grabbed her mother's arm, her face etched with embarrassment. "Mama, please! This is a hospital."Cecilia's grip on her mother's arm tightened, her face pale with distress. "People are watching!" Her voice was a desperate plea, but Federica seemed beyond reason, her fury a raging inferno.
"Let me go, Cecilia!" Federica shrieked, trying to wrench her arm free. "She needs to know her place! She doesn't belong here!"
It was Nathan, my younger half brother, who finally managed to create some distance. His hand on my arm was firm but gentle, pulling me steadily away from the volatile scene. His expression was a mixture of apology and a quiet understanding of the toxic dynamic I was caught in.
"Davina, please," he murmured, his voice low and calming amidst the chaos. "Just come with me. There's no point in this."
I allowed him to lead me, my cheek throbbing, my heart pounding with a confusing mix of anger, hurt, and a growing sense of unease.
"Stay away from him!" Federica's voice echoed down the hallway, sharp and unwavering. "Stay away from our family! You're not welcome here!"
Nathan kept walking, his grip on my arm reassuringly steady. We didn't stop until we were outside, the relatively normal sounds of traffic and distant chatter a stark contrast to the emotional violence I had just experienced.
He finally released my arm, turning to face me, his eyes filled with a weary sadness. "I'm sorry, Davina. My mother... she's been through a lot."
"And what about me, Nathan?" My voice was raw, the carefully constructed composure I usually maintained crumbling under the weight of the day's events. "I came here because I thought my father was dying. Instead, I find him beaten, and his wife attacks me in the hallway. What exactly have I walked into?" My question hung in the air, unanswered, the weight of the unknown pressing down on us both.
"I'm so sorry Davina. It's not your fault." he said and run his hand through his hair. "My mum is not the easist person to deal with, I know that, and I'm so sorry for what she did to you. I will have a word with her. I promise you!"
A comfortable silence settled between us for a moment. He might be Federica's son, but he has nothing in common with that vicious woman. Finally, I took a step back. "Well... I should probably... go."
Nathan nodded again, his eyes filled with a quiet concern. "Take care, Davina. I'll text you for updates." he pulled me into a warm embrace.
"You too, Nathan."
I turned and started walking, away from the hospital. As I walked, my mind replayed the events of the past hour – the anonymous call, my father's battered face and hostile rejection, Federica's venomous words and the stinging slap. It all felt surreal, like a scene from a poorly written drama. Yet, the throbbing on my cheek was undeniably real.
Narrator's POV:
Unbeknownst to Davina, as she navigated the bustling sidewalks, a figure kept pace a safe distance behind. They moved with a practiced ease, blending seamlessly into the flow of pedestrian traffic.
Their gaze, though seemingly casual, remained fixed on her retreating form, a silent shadow. They had witnessed the confrontation outside the hospital, heard the raised voices.
Now, their boss gave a clear order, ensure Davina Wilson won't disappear again. Their reasons, were clear. But yet for Davina, like the anonymous call that started it all, remained a shrouded in mystery.
Why is Federica so cruel with Davina? Why is she accusing her? Who is the silent shadow stalking Davina?
Ezra's POVThe hum of the ICU was a rhythmic, soul-crushing drone, a constant reminder of the machines keeping Davina’s body tethered to this world while her mind drifted in a grey abyss. For forty-eight hours, I hadn't slept. I hadn't changed my clothes. I had only moved to do the one thing I knew how to do: destroy.I sat in the plastic waiting chair, my eyes fixed on a small television mounted on the far wall of the lounge. The news anchor, a woman with perfectly coiffed hair and a rehearsed expression of solemnity, was speaking over a graphic of the Sokolov crest."...a tragic end to one of the city's most prominent business dynasties. Authorities report that Tatiana and Ivan Sokolov, along with their remaining executive board, perished in what appears to be a coordinated series of internal disputes and structural failures. The Sokolov estate has officially filed for bankruptcy as the family line reaches an abrupt and mysterious end..."A thin, dark smirk pulled at the corner of m
Ezra's POVThe sound of the double doors swinging open was a guillotine blade. I didn't move. I couldn't. I remained pinned against the wall, my fingers curled into the cold tile, waiting for the words that would officially end my life. I could hear faint voices, but nothing could go through my head. The doctor stepped into the hall. He looked like he’d been through a war. His surgical gown was a map of crimson stains—Davina’s blood—and his eyes were heavy with a exhaustion that transcended physical tiredness."She’s stabilized," he said, the word coming out in a dry, raspy breath.For a second, the oxygen in the hallway seemed to return. Lexi let out a choked sob, and Lydia slumped against her, both of them gasping as if they’d been under water. But I didn't cheer. I didn't move. I saw the but in the doctor’s eyes before he even opened his mouth again."It was a miracle we got her back," he continued, his voice dropping into a somber, clinical tone. "Her heart stopped for nearly fou
Davina's DreamThe silence was the first thing I noticed.It wasn't the silence of a quiet room or a late night; it was the silence of an empty universe. The roar of the Atlantic, the scream of the wind, and the deafening crack of Tatiana’s gun had all vanished. There was no pain. The white-hot sledgehammer that had driven into my chest was gone, replaced by a weightless, numbing cold.I was standing in a place that looked like a cathedral made of fog. The floor was as dark and reflective as a frozen lake, and the ceiling was lost in a hazy, silver mist."Davina."I turned. A few yards away, the fog parted. A man was standing there, holding a small bundle in his arms. My breath—or what felt like my breath—hitched. It was him. Dexter. Lexi’s husband. He looked whole. He wasn't covered in the blood, or shot by Ezra's gun, that had taken him. And the bundle… it was the baby. The child Ezra’s world had swallowed.They looked peaceful. They looked like an invitation.Suddenly, the silver s
Ezra's POVThe double doors of the trauma suite were a slab of sterile, white plastic that felt like the gates of a tomb. Behind them, the muffled, rhythmic thumping of a chest compressor and the sharp, electronic chirp of a flatline monitor were the only sounds in the universe."Clear!" a voice muffled by the walls barked.I flinched as the sound of the defibrillator echoed—a dull thump that I felt in my own marrow. I was leaning against the cold tile of the hallway, my legs vibrating so violently I had to lock my knees to keep from collapsing. I looked down at my hands. They were stained a dark, crusty crimson. Her blood was under my fingernails, caked into the creases of my palms, drying on the sleeves of a suit that cost more than a common man earned in a year.It was all worthless. The money, the power, the fear I commanded—it couldn't buy a single heartbeat.The elevator at the end of the hall hissed open. Andrea stepped out, his face a mask of grim duty. But it was the woman be
Ezra's POVThe air on the pier tasted like salt and impending death.I had her. She was in my arms, shivering and broken, but she was mine. I was already calculating the miles to the safe house, the bandages and medications she’d need, the way I would wrap her in silk and never let the sun touch her skin again.Then, the shadow moved.Tatiana Sokolova stepped into the harsh, clinical glare of the SUV’s headlights. She looked like a specter of the ruin I had brought upon her house. Her face was the one of a desperate woman, her eyes two hollow burning with psychotic hatred."You bastards," she hissed, the silver revolver in her hand steady, glinting like a shark’s tooth.My blood turned to liquid nitrogen. I didn't think; I reacted. Every instinct I possessed—every ounce of the Mafia Don—surged to the surface. I began to pivot, my body already shielding hers, my hand reaching for the Beretta."Get in the car, Davina! NOW!"I felt her move. But she didn't run for the door.The world fra
Davina's POVThe world was a chaotic symphony of screaming engines and crashing waves. The transition from the dying freighter to the interceptor boat was a violent blur of motion, but through the spray and the darkness, I felt only one thing: Ezra. His arms were iron bands around me, his body a shield against the freezing Atlantic wind. As the boat surged away from the sinking Ivory Queen, the roar of the twin-turbo engines felt like it was vibrating inside my own bones.I was shivering so violently that my teeth ached, the wet silk of that cursed dress clinging to me like a skin made of ice. Ezra had draped his heavy wool coat over my shoulders, and I buried my face into the lapel, inhaling the scent of him—expensive tobacco, cold rain, and the metallic tang of gunpowder. It was the scent of my survival."Lexi," I rasped, the word barely catching in my throat. I clutched the damp fabric of his shirt, my fingers cramping. "Ezra, please... tell me. Lexi. Did they... is she—?"Ezra pul







