Owning the Mafia Don

He stared at the wall in front of his eyes but in his mind, he was thinking of Dmitri Rudenko

The man with the bright red beard and bald head, the tall, thin man who had been his rival, who had only been a business rival till both of them began to eye the same contracts.

Things had gotten out of hand when Lucien Delano had been able to gain an edge over the East European gang lord. Dmitri had never forgiven him.

He had decided to go after Lucien by hitting where he hurt, attacking and killing the family of his Underboss, Schwartz.

it had been his only recourse, after all. Lucien had discovered that Shark had been in cahoots with Rudenko.

That only left Schwartz, who had been happily married.

Lucien Delano who had been unattached and busy moving from woman to woman, whore to whore, unattached and hard of heart, had been harder to hit.

So he had taken out Schwatz’s family.

An incensed Lucien had gone after him.

He knew that Dmitri’s younger brother was very close to the gang lord. So he had moved in and killed the man, with his bare hands But seeing the distress it had caused Schwartz, he had immediately retaliated; Dmitri Rudenko’s younger brother had been killed by Lucien himself.

Beaten and defeated, Dmitri Rudenko had left the States and stayed in Europe, licking his wounds. Lucien had actually begun to believe that the man would never return to settle scores. But things had not happened in that way.

*

Soon after the death of Shark, he revealed himself, also openly showing that Shark had been his mole in Lucien’s camp.

First, he had tried to come after Lucien’s twins; when that had failed, he had managed to get the help of Worthington, and now he had snatched Lucien’s wife, the one woman who he loved above all else, Proserpina.

Lucien groaned, raking his hand through his hair.

What had the poor girl done to deserve this? He could still picture her when he had dragged her into his life of crime-an innocent eighteen-year-old who had loved him from the first time he had f*cked her; she had stood with him despite his cruelty and his indifference. And now she was paying the price of her love and her loyalty.

He was to blame for this entire mess, for putting her life in jeopardy, especially now, when she was carrying their second set of twins.

He snarled and knocked a glass decanter onto the floor, uncaring as the whiskey seeped into the carpet.

He shut his eyes, picturing her, the lovely dimpled smile, the long brown hair with the reddish undertones, and her deep brown eyes with flecks of gold, filled with love as she looked at him.

As he had taken her on countless occasions, using her to pleasure himself, the soft, warm body was the only woman he wanted now…

And as though with vengeance, he remembered the last picture of her. Lying on a grimy mattress, looking weary and drugged.

*

With a roar, he flung the papers and everything on his desk to the floor, swearing and shouting like a crazed person.

He kept throwing and smashing, like a bull in pain. Finally, Schwartz stepped forward and held his arms tightly, restraining him.

‘Mate,’ he said, his voice rough with sorrow.

‘You have to think of the wee ones at home.’

Lucien sank into a leather armchair and sat, his elbows on his knees.

His children-what would he tell them? Suddenly, the need to have them in his arms was too great. He rose to his feet and said in a strained growl,

“Schwartz, cancel the fight; I’m going home to my children.’

Danielle, who had rushed in on hearing the commotion, with Aiyana close on the heels, said,

“It’s been taken care of. We have Gasper the Gorilla filling in for you.’

She muttered savagely under her breath as she turned, shoving Aiyana out of her way,

“The b*oody f*cking show must go on.!”

*

Aiyana

She had backed away from any direct confrontation with Lucien’s friend and the one who managed the day-to-day running of the Club, Danielle.

Instead, she took a deep breath and helped Danielle who was obviously hurting. She seemed to love her friend, Proserpina deeply.

*

Later, as they stood, having a drink of chilled beer in Danielle’s cabin, the woman with the silver-blonde hair said gruffly,

“Hey, sorry, back there, I kinda lost it.’

She sighed and barely acknowledged Aiayana’s murmur.

‘That kid, Proserpina,’ she gestured with her chin,

“I have seen her since the time she got married to Lucien. She absolutely loved the Boss. And he, fool man that he is, had to wait a few years to figure that one out!’ she huffed in disgust.

And went on,

‘That woman is the most innocent, the sweetest, and unbelievably kind person ever. She even took care of Sophie’s half with a nephew like he was her own.’

She scrubbed a hand over her eyes and went on, taking a swig from her bottle as she spoke,

‘Me and Grace, we love her; she is so simple and she made the Boss a better man.’

And then, jumping up, knocking her bottle onto the floor, she shouted,

“The girl is pregnant, damn it. She’s going to have twins!’ And then sinking back onto the chair she said in a hoarse whisper,

‘I wonder how she is…’

***

Proserpina

When I opened my eyes again, I was drenched in sweat. Stiffly, I placed my hands on the bed and sat up slowly. For a long while, the world seemed to be spinning. I placed a hand on my stomach and shuddered.

“My babies…’ I whispered.

*

There was the sound of a door opening, and I looked around me in panic.

Part of the wall shifted, and I saw that it was a door.

A man entered, and my heart stopped. I sat, trembling, clutching my hands in my lap, staring at him.

Dmitri Rudenko.

*

Lucien

It was late evening when he returned to his house. The huge sedan, accompanied by his cars with bodyguards, turned up the driveway and entered the grounds of his fortified house. Security personnel were patrolling the grounds, rifles in hand.

The late evening sun, gentle and mild, flooded the well-manicured lawns. He scowled as he thought of the times he had seen Proserpina sunning herself in the garden during the late afternoons or working on her assignments with the utmost seriousness, All of it came crowding back and he felt a tightening in his chest.

As he stepped out of the basement parking lot, surrounded by his men, he was swept up to the first floor. There was a clenching in his chest when he saw his children. Ria rushed at him, hurtling herself at him. Throwing her arms around his neck as he knelt to gather her in his arms, she sobbed frantically.

‘Pappa, Pappa, where is my Mumma? Where is she? Where???’

It broke his heart, and he bowed his head as Piers came to him, winding his thin arms around his father’s neck.

*

Baby Claude was whining, aggrieved at not having seen his mother. Lucien stood and scooped up the little fellow in his arms, then, holding Ria’s little hand, he went into his study with Piers, Beatrice, a weeping Beatrice, bringing up the rear.

*

The twins crowded around him, lost and frightened. He sat at his desk, one of his men having followed him in positioning himself near the windows, a discreet distance away from the family that was huddled around the table. Three others were also in the room, impassive-looking as they waited, alert and watching.

Too late, he thought bitterly as he kissed the fragrant cheek of his daughter, too, too late for my woman…

*

Lucien took a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance of baby Claude, the smell of baby lotion, of baby powder, and milk. Once again, he felt guilt, a pang of deep, unnerving guilt.

He had exposed these innocent children to a threat; he had robbed them of the steadiest influence in their guileless lives, their loving mother.

“I need you to listen to me,’ he said gently to his elder children. Ria was crying, her lower lip trembling, and her body shuddering as she clung to him. She pointed a finger and said, between sobs,

‘Bea said a bad man took away my Mumma.’ She hiccupped, turning to point at the unfortunate housekeeper,, who quailed under the intensity of the fierce look he shot her and said, and then she whispered,

“Pappa, please, please bring her back.’ His son moved closer to his twin and wrapped an arm around her small shoulders.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

‘Don’t cry, Ria.’ He said in a brave man’s voice, ‘Pappa is doing everything to find her, right Pappa?’

The eyes behind the spectacles were hopeful, and Lucien smiled tenderly.

He was lucky to have them in his life; he thought and silently thanked Proserpina for having brought them up so well.

He nodded, holding little Claude to his chest, the little fellow sitting ramrod stiff and quiet for once.

‘Your mother will be back with us soon, I promise…’ he whispered.

*

Lucien turned his gaze on the old housekeeper.

“Why did you tell the kids?’ he snarled and felt his son stiffen.

‘I did not!’ bawled the old woman whose cheeks were wet, as she blew her nose loudly.

“It was that young lad, Philippe. He was bawling his head off !’ she stood, her hands on her hips, red-rimmed eyes glaring at him.

But he could see that she was miserable.

‘That kid adores Proserpina and when he heard it from his dad, he was howling and…’

Lucien scowled.

News travels fastest at the grassroots level, he thought grimly.