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Chapter 30: The Revelation
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2025-05-27 00:04:59Davina's POV:
A few days later.
The early morning shift at "The Daily Grind" was a stark contrast to the late-night world of the Devil's Club. The air was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries, the clientele a mix of sleepy locals grabbing their caffeine fix and students hunched over laptops. I moved behind the counter, the unfamiliar weight of the apron around my waist, the clatter of ceramic mugs a welcome change from the clinking of champagne flutes and the heavy bass vibrations.
It was a means to an end, this second job. Every dollar I earned here was another step, however small, towards the impossible mountain of Ezra’s debt. The tips were meager compared to the Devil’s Club, but the exhaustion
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Davina's POV:The night was a brutal teacher. The warmth of the day evaporated quickly, leaving behind a biting chill that seeped into my bones, despite the thin jacket I still wore. The city, which had pulsed with life and laughter just hours before, now seemed indifferent, its shadows long and menacing. Every rustle of leaves, every distant siren, sent a jolt of fear through me.I wandered aimlessly, the streets my only companions. Shopfronts, their shutters drawn, stared blankly ahead. The occasional passing car illuminated my tear-streaked face before speeding away, its occupants oblivious to the young woman huddled in a doorway, her world shattered.Sleep offered little respite, a fitful, broken series of uneasy dozes punctuated by the cold, the hard concrete, and the gnawing fear of the unknown. Each time I drifted off, the faces of Mom and Lexi, etched with hurt and anger, would flicker behind my eyelids. Dexter’s smug smirk was another unwelcome vi
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Davina's POV: A few days later. The early morning shift at "The Daily Grind" was a stark contrast to the late-night world of the Devil's Club. The air was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries, the clientele a mix of sleepy locals grabbing their caffeine fix and students hunched over laptops. I moved behind the counter, the unfamiliar weight of the apron around my waist, the clatter of ceramic mugs a welcome change from the clinking of champagne flutes and the heavy bass vibrations. It was a means to an end, this second job. Every dollar I earned here was another step, however small, towards the impossible mountain of Ezra’s debt. The tips were meager compared to the Devil’s Club, but the exhaustion
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