Owning the Mafia Don

Proserpina

I lay on the bed, listlessly.

I felt Camilla’s eyes on me. She knew that I was feeling upset but I had realised that the big woman with the strong features and the brusque manner, was actually a kind, caring soul.

She came closer, holding my littlest child in her arms.

“Do you want to hold the baby?” she asked, “I know he is your favourite.”

It was untrue, I loved them all equally but I could see it was a clumsy attempt to make me cheerful. I looked up at her, meeting her bright black eyes and smiled.

The smile faltered as I saw the concern in her eyes and I began to cry.

Suddenly I was sobbing, great wrenching sobs, torn from my chest.

“It is alright, it is going to be alright, girl.” she cooed, holding me to her chest. I shook my head wearily.This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - ©.

“No,” I mumbled, “it is never going to be all right.”

I thought of Lucien, the steeliness in his eyes as he had said he would not share me…SHARE me? With Schwartz?

The shame, the pain in me on hearing that! It had been immense.

I had died a little then.

He could not share me, he said.

So, he believed in his warped mind, that I was something to be handed around and enjoyed?

Was that how he saw me, this man I had loved and trusted all this while?

Was this what I had waited for?

During those dark days, in that cold, dirty little cell, kept without food, humiliated and molested by Oleg, threatened by Dmitri Rudenko, publicly shamed and paraded half-naked, the only thought that had kept me going was the belief that Lucien Delano loved me, he would rescue me.

And then had come his impassioned outburst.

Was that how he regarded me?

Was that all he saw me as, a sex toy to be passed around among his friends?

The utter desolation in my heart made me want to crawl into a hole and die.

But the thought that came to my mind immediately was this: what would happen to my children?

All of them?

Lucien would retreat to being his old womanising self, ignoring my poor babes. I had seen how shallow he was.

He would drink himself into a stupor, falling into the beds of any whores who were available. Yes, many of them, I thought bitterly. The man had an insatiable libido, after all.

But I?

I was their mother. I had carried them in my womb, had nursed them, and had nurtured them.

I could not do that to my children.

The frustration and the impotence I felt made me cry harder. The woman held me, softly whispering,

‘No, girl, stop. You will make yourself unwell again.’

Her kindness only made me sob harder.

I shook my head, whispering, “No, no, no…”

And then, throwing my head back, I cried,

“Why did I not die there, in that hell hole, why did I continue to live, Camilla? Why? Why? Was it for this???'”

And I pounded my fists on my chest impotently.

***

Lucien

He stood in the doorway, having entered silently.

The words she cried out, her abject misery as she said them, made him stop.

He knew he had hurt her and this time, the damage was greater than any he had inflicted before this on earlier occasions.

Proserpina was weeping, her long brown hair in an untidy, tangled braid.

The big nurse named Camilla, stood beside her, her arms wrapped around Proserpina’s head, holding her to her bosom. The woman’s face was soft with concern.

Suddenly she became aware of Lucien. Her brows drew together in a threatening frown and he felt his temper rise.

Who was she to judge him? he thought furiously.

He stepped inside. Proserpina turned to him, her eyes pools of misery. She shook her head wildly, beside herself with unhappiness and desperation as she saw him.

“Go away,”she said, her voice low and full of pain.

He could see that his presence was agitating her.

“Go away, Lucien, just go away… go away…” She chanted feverishly, her voice increasing in volume, and she began to weep harder.

” Leave me alone, leave me… Lucien for the love of God, leave me…” She was now rocking herself to and fro hysterically, and he saw the alarm in the nurse’s eyes.

The nurse spoke a little loudly but he could feel the undercurrents of hostility radiating across as she snapped,

“Can you not see, Mr Delilah, how you are disturbing my patient? She has just undergone a major surgery not to mention a terrible ordeal where she suffered terribly.”

The unspoken criticism was evident,

It is because of YOU, only You that she is in this situation and you are only making it worse.

He turned and left, restraining himself from slamming the door.

Lucien Delano needed a stiff drink.

He had returned to the room in the house Martinez had arranged for them. It was just a stone’s throw away from the hospital but Lucien stood, sweating, despite the shower he had just taken.

Martinez had watched him, mildly curious when he had left his vigil at the hospital and chosen to stay at the house, drinking himself into a stupor.

Not in a mood to explain his actions to anyone, Lucien had swung away and walked into the room given to him, accompanied by his bodyguards.

In the privacy of his room, he stepped into the shower and concentrated on the hot water pounding his body. Later, he sat, a towel draped around his waist, drinking.

He had been drinking steadily for hours now.

***

It was late afternoon but he was quite drunk. He had lost count of the alcohol he had imbibed.

Martinez had called him.

“Shall I send up a woman, or maybe more?” he had suggested,

“You always used to enjoy relaxing with a few in the past…? And now that your woman is fresh from childbirth, she will not be able to cater to your…ummm…hunger…after all, a man has needs…”

His voice tapered away. The unspoken suggestion seemed to be that he, Lucien Delano, had more intense needs than ordinary men.

Martinez sniggered suggestively. “I can join in too and we can have some entertainment, eh? The more the merrier, yes? Like old times, eh? I have some new ones…’

Cutting the man short, Lucien had resisted the urge to slam the phone down. Instead, in a clipped tone, he had refused tersely.

Martinez was talking about the man he had been in the past, with his rapacious sexual appetite. After a meeting with the dealers, he would spend the night, drunk and ramming his c*ck into a variety of whores, making them pleasure him throughout the night, till the wee hours of the morning. Martinez and his cronies would stop for some rest but Lucien Delano had been insatiable, working his way through the women presented to him.

But that had been before Proserpina . She had changed him. He swore crudely and smote his fist onto the table. Now he only wanted her, longed to sink his shaft into her wet pussy, and no one else’s.

Yes, he thought grimly, he had fallen hard. He loved his woman with the sparkling, dimpled smile and the flowing brown hair, the curvaceous body that made him hard when he looked at her, but above all, her loving, caring nature…

The phone rang its shrill jangling startling him. He glanced at it and sighed.

Ria.

She had been calling him for the last half an hour now but he could not bring himself to take the call. Now he answered, reluctantly.

“Poppet?” he began but the slur in his voice was evident.

“Pappa?” the astonishment was patent in her tone.

“Are you drinking, Pappa?” she asked, her small voice full of condemnation.

And then, she snapped, “Where is Mumma? You said you would do a video call with her today. We want to see her. We have been waiting here for AGES!”

Silently, he cursed.

The doctor had called; Proserpina had been given a sedative to make her relax. She was in no position to speak to her children.

The doctor had sounded mystified to learn that he was not in the hospital. He had spent all his time there from the day she had been admitted.

“Sorry pumpkin.” he rasped, focussing on keeping his voice steady.

“She was feeling a little …uhh…”

Ria’s voice was tremulous.

“I knew it. Pappa, you made her unhappy again, didn’t you?”

He breathed heavily.

Mafia Princess, Schwartz had called her. The girl was f*cking psychic!

She went on, her tone raised in indignation and hurt,

“WE DO NOT LOVE YOU, PAPPA! You always do this!”

With a sob in her voice, she went on,

“Stop making our Mumma so unhappy all the time! Every time! All the time!!!”

And the line went dead.