บททั้งหมดของ Entangled with the Mafia Don: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

Chapter 1: The Call

Davina's POV:The flaky layers of the croissant shattered with a satisfying crispness as I bit into it, the buttery richness melting on my tongue. This tiny corner table at "Le Petit Bonjour" had become my sanctuary, a place where the lingering anxieties of job applications and the general uncertainty of post-graduation life could be momentarily forgotten in the simple pleasure of a perfect pastry and a strong latte.My phone, nestled beside my half-eaten breakfast, vibrated insistently against the wooden tabletop. I frowned, glancing at the unfamiliar number displayed on the screen. Usually, my calls were from recruitment agencies I barely remembered applying to or my mom checking in. Hesitantly, I swiped to answer.“Hello?” The voice that answered was flat, devoid of any warmth or inflection. “Davina Wilson?”A knot tightened in my stomach. It wasn’t a voice I recognized. “Speaking.”“Your father, Mr. Malcolm Wilson, is in the hospital. He suffered a heart attack.”The buttery sweet

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Chapter 2: The Heart Attack

Davina's POV: My blood ran cold. "What? But... I just received a call. Someone said he had a heart attack and asked for me." My voice rose slightly, the sterile calm of the reception area suddenly feeling suffocating.The nurse shook her head gently. "I understand you're concerned, but hospital staff hasn't made any calls regarding Mr. Wilson this morning, other than routine updates to his emergency contact. Can you give me your name?""Davina Wilson, I'm his daughter" I said with a trembling voice.She turned her attention back to her monitor and started punching some buutons on her keyboard. She stopped and looked bac at me. "Ms. Wilson, you are not Mr. Wilson's emergancy contact and we never contacted you.""But... who else would call me?" The question hung in the air, heavy with a dawning unease. If it wasn't the hospital, who knew he was here? And why would they lie about a heart attack, only to say he asked for me? A shiver, colder than the air conditioning, ran down my spine. T

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Chapter 3: The Stepmother

Davina'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

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Chapter 4: The Silent Shadow

Davina's POV:The further I walked from City General, the more the initial shock began to morph into a gnawing unease. Every passing car seemed to slow a fraction too long, every pedestrian who glanced my way held my gaze for just a moment too long.It was probably just paranoia, the lingering residue of the day's bizarre and unsettling events. But the feeling persisted, a prickling sensation on the back of my neck that whispered I wasn't alone. That someone was following me. Just as I was trying to rationalize my growing anxiety, my phone buzzed in my hand. It was an unfamiliar local number. Hesitantly, I answered."Hello?""Davina? It's Cecilia." Her voice sounded strained and composed."Cecilia? How did you get my number? What's wrong?" My heart lurched. Had something happened to my father?"Look, I... I'm so sorry about what happened earlier," she said quickly, her words tumbling out in a rush. "My mother... she's just been under a lot of stress. It wasn't right of her to treat you

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Chapter 5: The Little Ghost

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. "Pleas

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Chapter 6: The Deal

Davina's POV:The world became a chaotic blur of streetlights and the rough fabric of Ezra's suit jacket digging into my cheek as he unceremoniously hauled me over his shoulder. My frantic kicks and feeble punches against his broad back were met with a chilling indifference, as if I were no more than a troublesome package. Each step he took through the sterile hospital corridors echoed the shattering of my former life.The automatic doors of the emergency exit hissed open, revealing the cool night air and the dimly lit expanse of the parking lot. A sleek, black car he approached seemed to exude an air of silent menace, its tinted windows like vacant eyes. With a grunt that spoke of exertion rather than concern, he swung me towards the rear of the vehicle. I landed with a jarring impact on the plush leather seats, the sharp pain radiating from where my head struck momentarily stealing the breath from my lungs.Scrambling into a sitting position, my chest heaved with a mixture of terror

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Chapter 7: The Text

Davina's POV:The familiar creak of the front door hinges as I pushed it open felt jarringly out of sync with the turmoil raging within me. The warm, comforting scent of Mom's lavender potpourri, usually a balm to my frayed nerves, now felt like a suffocating reminder of the normalcy I was being forced to abandon.My mother, Lydia, was settled in her usual armchair in the living room, the soft glow of the table lamp illuminating the worried lines etched around her eyes as she looked up from her well-worn paperback. The moment her gaze landed on me, her brow furrowed deeper, her green eyes, the same shade that often mirrored my own anxieties, widening with immediate concern."Davina, sweetheart? What in heaven's name happened? You look like you've been crying," she said softly, her voice laced with the familiar maternal worry that had been a constant hum in the background of my life. She reached out a hand, her touch gentle and questioning.I managed a weak, shaky smile, a pathetic atte

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Chapter 8: The Devil's Club

Davins's POV:Andrea's hand on my arm was surprisingly firm as he steered me through a narrow, dimly lit corridor behind the pulsating heart of the 'The Devil's Club'. The bass of the music vibrated through the soles of my cheap, unfamiliar heels. The air grew thick with a cloying mix of sickly-sweet perfume, the acrid tang of stale cigarette smoke clinging to the velvet drapes, and an undercurrent of something else, something musky and unsettling that made my stomach churn.The heavy velvet curtains at the end of the corridor were pulled aside by a burly man with a vacant stare, revealing a cavernous space teeming with a different kind of energy than the main floor. Here, the lights were lower, casting long, suggestive shadows. The air was thick with anticipation, the murmur of conversations punctuated by sharp bursts of laughter and the clinking of expensive glassware.A woman with vibrant red hair pulled back in a severe ponytail and a kind smile that didn't quite reach her eyes ap

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Chapter 9: The VIP Room

Davina's POV: The heavy, ornate door to the VIP room clicked shut behind me, the sound a definitive punctuation mark on the chaotic energy of the club floor. Here, a thick, almost suffocating silence reigned, broken only by the distant, muffled throb of the bass and the soft murmur of Ezra's voice. The room was opulent, draped in dark velvet and illuminated by strategically placed amber lamps that cast long, languid shadows across the plush furnishings. Ezra was a silhouette against the rich burgundy of the oversized velvet couch, one arm draped casually across the back, the other holding a half-empty glass of amber liquid. He gestured with a languid flick of his wrist towards the low, intricately carved wooden table in front of him. "My drink, Davina." My breath hitched in my throat, the lingering s

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Chapter 10: The Contract

Davina's POV:His command brooked no argument, his eyes, now devoid of any emotion, fixed on me. The three women unbothered to what he said, kept pleasuring him in more ways that I could possibly imagine. He gestured to a thick stack of papers bound by a black leather clasp on the table beside him. "Your contract. You'll sign it now." My heart sank like a stone in my chest. This was it. The official sealing of my servitude, the legal binding to this terrifying new reality. I leave the glass full of ice on the table and with trembling hands, I picked up the expensive pen he offered. The dense legal jargon on the pages blurred before my eyes, a suffocating litany of my obligations to him, the precise duration of my forced service, and the dire, chilling consequences of breaking the agreement. The crushing weight of my family's safety pressed down on me, a suffocating burden that left me with no other choice. With a shaky hand, I signed my name at the bottom of the last page, the ink a d

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