บททั้งหมดของ The Mafia's Lycan Slave: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

We’re already in Mr. Davide’s Ferrari with bags of Chanel products he bought for me concealed on its trunk, but the reflection of my lycan on the store’s mirror plus the employee’s words about Mr. Davide’s previous women being in that same store as me still bother me. “Are you okay, Mackenzie? You’ve been very quiet,” Mr. Davide says. Of course I can’t tell him about my secret, but what I can discuss with him is the disconcerting fact that he brought me to the same store where he also brought his s.ex slaves. I shouldn’t be starting this conversation, but it’ll eat me alive if I don’t hear an explanation for it. So I’d rather have an argument with him than to feel disturbed during our entire trip. I say, “I found out that you also brought your s.ex slaves to that same Chanel store.” He’s hushed, shifting his gaze between me and his Ferrari’s front glass. His jaw is also tensing, but he’s trying to relax it every second or two. His silence creates a far stronger unbending air b

The sun is already high when Davide and I head down to the hotel’s beachfront. He has his button-down polo that exposes his buff chest and his knee-length shorts that exhibits his long, muscular, hairy legs. While I’m in my two-piece Chanel swimsuit that’s hidden underneath a white, long flowy cover up dress. Davide doesn’t release my hand from the time we step out of the penthouse until the time we arrive at the beach. He’s really doing his best to make me feel that I’m a girlfriend and not some kind of entertainer to him, which I really, really appreciate. We settle ourselves in one of the series of lounge areas a few meters from the sea. The lounge is a low, wooden platform, which has two beach beds that’s covered in white mattresses, a glass table and a transversely arched canopy. As I’m comfortably sitting on one of the beds, Davide pulls out a bottle of sunscreen from the tote bag I brought with me. He then waves it in front of his face and asks, “Do you want some?” “Sur

Little by little, after some time of battling the fear that’s smoldering in my chest, I finally hear other noises aside from what my heartbeats are producing.“Mackenzie! Mackenzie!” Davide’s voice pirouettes in my ears, completely abating the aggressively loud thuds of my heart. Davide quickly squeezes the coat inside the box, then slumps the lid on the box, before carefully pulling me down back to my seat. “Water, please!” he yells. A few moments later, a staff member enters the room with three bottles of water in his hands. He offers me one, then lays the other two on the table, before stepping out again. Since I can’t properly think or move, Davide assists me in ripping the bottle’s cup. My hands tremble as I inch the bottle’s rim close to my drying lips. The coldness of the water that speeds through me alleviates a huge lump of the heat in my chest, giving me the ability to breathe well again. The blurriness in my eyes also disappears and the first one they capture when the

The doctor redoes Mackenzie’s test and it comes out just the same - her blood is way hotter and her heartbeats and pulses are way faster than a regular patient’s. But as the doctor told me the first time, they can’t determine the reasons behind these abnormalities. “Davide, if you like, we can send Mackenzie’s blood sample and medical report to different laboratories here in France, so we could know if we should worry about her situation or not. If you still don’t get a satisfying result, then we can send her medical sample to the best laboratories in the US,” Vivienne says. Her suggestion is the only thing I can cling on to to reduce the anxiety that’s crisscrossing through my nerves. “That’s a good idea. I’ll do that. I can’t settle on the doctor’s words that Mackenzie isn’t sick when there are obviously abnormalities in her body. We have to treat whatever rare illness Mackenzie has before it’s too late,” I reply. The thought of losing Mackenzie generates moisture in my tight-

MACKENZIE’S POV: My legs slide down from Davide’s hips as he pulls away from our passionate kiss. I level my soles on the wet tiled-floor while still dangling my arms over his broad shoulders. The love that’s coursing in and out of me is so welcoming that letting it go will be very regretful. I want this to last… I want this to foreve-... Davide opens his eyes and a reaction, I’m not expecting in a million years, emerges through him. His eyes, widening. His gray pupils, trembling. He's as if seeing a nightmare right in front of him. The love that overflows in and out of me quickly dries out while panic starts to gush through. I flump down my arms from his shoulders, then step away in wobbling steps. “Davide, are you okay?” The fear on his face continues to darken. His breaths are also becoming rough and unsteady. “Davide, what’s happening? Talk to me!” Again, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he rushes out of the bathroom in staggering steps. Thudding and screeching from the bedroom