Owning the Mafia Don

ProserpinaContent (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

I will never know how I made it through the hours of waiting for the axe to fall. I ate the stale bread and the lumpy cereal, barely aware of the taste. Staring around me, I figured out that it was mid-morning when the door opened.

Another woman entered a little while later, this time a woman who was in a long skirt and had her head covered with a gaily coloured scarf. She spoke in a dialect that I did not understand. Her black eyes, narrow and slightly slanted, were rimmed with kajal, the traditional black eye make-up, worn by women in some parts of the world.

She flashed a look of disdain at me and indicated that I should bathe. In her hands, she had a bar of some coarse soap, a towel and shampoo. I rose to my feet, dread in every pore of my body.

I stepped inside the tiny bathroom and washed myself as best as I could, lathering my hair with the shampoo. To my horror, she stood in the doorway, watching me, totally unconcerned at my efforts to hide my nudity from her cold eyes.

She gave a scornful laugh when I was done, indicating that I was to follow her and wear a dress that she had flung on the bed.

I stepped out, my body barely covered by the thin towel

When I lifted up the dress, I gasped in shock.

It was a long gown, made of some transparent fabric, in a pale peach colour, emblazoned with gold sequins. It had long sleeves and a low neck. I knew that I would be exposed if I wore it; it was as transparent like a thin veil!

I dropped it on the bed, shaking my head, vehemently.

“I will not wear it!’ I said.

The woman’s brows drew together and she made to hit me, raising her hand. But I gripped her wrist. I would be damned if this female tried to frighten me, I thought fiercely.

It was one thing to be gawked at while I was bathing; it was another thing altogether to be getting myself into this flimsy thing that would reveal every part of me!

I glared back at her and said, firmly.

“I . WILL. NOT. WEAR. THIS .’

She stood staring at me for a while. Then she stalked out.

I watched her go, fearfully.

***

After a while, I spun around as the door was flung open.

Oleg stood there. His cold, pale eyes moved over me, menacingly.

‘So you refuse to wear this?’ he snarled and stepped in.

But the woman I had seen earlier, the one with the mane of red hair, rushed in.

She gripped his huge biceps and said, in her accented English.

‘Oleg, we have good offers for her. Do not lose your temper and hit her.’

She turned to me and smiled slyly.

‘Some of the men who are bargaining for this woman will beat her up anyway. We need to keep the goods unsoiled till then.’

Oleg looked as if he was about to push her away and do what he wanted. But then, she slid her hand to his crotch and smiled at him, whispering something in his ear. The change in him was gradual.

He kissed her passionately and for a horrible moment, I thought they were about to make out there, in front of me.

Then, raising his head, he said in a dangerously quiet voice,

‘I will return in five minutes. If you do hot change, you wh*re…’

The woman pushed him out gently.

She turned to me as she shut the door.

“Wear it.’ She ordered me crisply, her soft look vanishing.

I knew when I was defeated.

I turned away from her and shed the towel.

Then I noticed that there were no undergarments.

I turned to her. She was on the phone, her redhead bobbing as she spoke.

She looked up and frowned at me.

‘What is it?’ she hissed.

“Undergarments, I whispered. “where are they?’

She smiled at me, a mean, nasty smile. And then, almost pityingly, like one would address an imbecile,

“You are just wearing the dress. When you are going to be paraded, the customers need to see what they are purchasing.’

She smiled, evilly as I felt the blood pounding in my heart.

***

Lucien

He arrived at the Club, hell-bent on knowing more about Sophie’s sketchy instructions. But the woman, half terrorised a the sight of him, could not give any more details. It was in Columbia, she said. But that was all she knew.

Exasperated and at the end of his tether, he stormed out but Danielle came chasing after him.

“Boss,’ she panted, “Do you think that wh*re would know?’ he spun on her.

‘Which one?’ he snapped, knowing that each passing moment meant Proserpina was getting more and more into danger.

“Catalina.’ she shot back.

He frowned as he stopped to think.

That was true; having been a reigning porn star, she would know where Dmitri kept the women he was planning to sell. She had, after all, worked for him for a long time. And it was open knowledge that Dmitri Rudenko was the man who financed some of the most x-rated porn movies on the Dark Net.

He decided to take the chance and strode into his office, hell-bent on finding the elusive Catalina. She would know, and f*ck, if she tried to keep any details hidden, he would kill her.

But he needed to drop in and see his children before he flew out of town.

The children were in the hall, waiting for him when he entered.

Ria immediately ran into his arms, trying hard not to cry as she hugged him tightly. Little Claude also tottered closer and made to climb into his arms. Piers, as always, hung back, trying to act like a responsible adult.

Schwartz had come along with him. His friend looked handsome, the scruff on his unshaven cheeks and the rumpled jacket only adding to his looks. The locks of blonde hair fell across his forehead in an appealing way. He went to Piers, and smiled at him, earning a small , half-hearted smile in return. Lucien stood up, with Claude in his arms and holding Ria’s small hand in his.

Lucien acknowledged the silent, unobtrusive presence of Aiyana Laughing Water. She stood in the background, dark and watchful, unsmiling as always, observing him keenly.

“I need to talk to my children,’ he said gruffly as he strode towards the study. His men and Beston were around.

Schwartz nodded and headed for one of the bedrooms ‘for a wash,’ he said. The woman watched them, and then she turned on her heel and headed upstairs.

‘Pappa…?’ said Ria tremulously.

He shook his head wearily, drawing the little girl to his chest. He noticed that Claude put out a hand to stroke his elder sister’s golden curls gently. Gone was the constant war between the two. Piers had come closer; now he stood, leaning against the walnut desk, listening carefully.

“I have some news about her.’ He said, hugging the little toddler.

The pain in his chest made him refrain from saying her name out loud, His Woman.

‘I need to go to another place to find her. But I will be back soon.’

‘Where?’ said Piers, the question shooting at him like a bullet.

He sized his son up.

“It would be better if you do not know, Piers.’ He said, a quiet air of authority in his voice.

Piers bit his lip and it wrenched his heart.

He looked so much like his mother at that moment that Lucien’s heart went out to him.

***

Months ago.

Proserpina was lying on the bed, worrying her lower lip as she watched him.

‘Lucien,’ she said softly, ‘will you ever be able to give up this life?’

He scowled as he looked at her. He had been ordering a hit on a rival and had just finished giving the instructions.

‘You came to me knowing who I was and knowing what I do for a living, woman.’ He said it gruffly, turning to her.

They had just made love passionately, although she was carrying his children again. A phone call had broken their peaceful rest as they lay in each other’s arms, sated and exhausted.

As always, the sight of her naked, delectable body stirred him, and he felt his c*ck harden eagerly, wanting to plunge into her wet, warm sex.

She blushed as she rightly read the look on his face and tried to pull the covers over her but he gripped her hands, raising them over her head.

‘Lucien,’ she demurred softly, but he knew that she wanted him too.

Grunting, he rolled onto her pliant, soft body, parting her legs roughly as she tried to put up a token resistance. He lowered himself onto her, noting the way she gasped, and her muscles readily enveloped his thick c*ck, eager and wet.

“Lucien,’ she whispered throatily, protesting lamely, and he slanted his lips over hers, shutting out her misgivings effectively as he rammed his large member into her again and again, revelling in her submission.

“This is who I am,’ he grunted as he watched her, pounding into her.

“This is what you will put up with, woman.’ He murmured as he lowered his head to her breast, and she was soon spiralling out of control, clutching his arms and whimpering as he took her.

***

Now he looked at his son and saw a change come over the boy’s face. His mouth was working as he stared at Lucien in undisguised hatred.

‘She was kidnapped because of YOU!’ shouted Piers, backing away, his face dissolving in a mask of anger and hurt.

“Because YOU are a killer and a …a gangster…! I hate you, I hate you!’ he tore out of the room and Lucien sat still, caught unawares and deflated.

Ria quickly ran after him, stopping at the door to say,

“Pappa, he did not mean it. We love you…It is just that we miss Mumma so!’

And she had darted after her twin, calling his name.

***

The people outside the room had heard the commotion too.

Beatrice came in, with Schwartz.

She picked up the baby, who was now in tears.

“Ain’t no matter. Them kids is hurting, is all.’ She said as she shuffled away, the baby in her arms.

The men who loved Proserpina stood in the darkened study, each lost in his private hell.

Thinking of the woman they both loved.

Wondering what she was going through…