Owning the Mafia Don

Lucien

He thought of how he had announced the news of his wedding on a similar stage, years ago. Proserpina had been taken by surprise when he had dragged her onto the dais and made his declaration before his guests. He had just received the report confirming that the twins were his children through a DNA test. Not that he had ever really had a doubt. Proserpina had run away from him after discovering that she was pregnant. He had wanted to hurt her, to break her, to humiliate her.

Sweeping the startled young Proserpina into his arms that evening before his guests, he had crushed her soft lips to his after publicly announcing his intention at the do at the Club.

Later that night, in a fit of jealousy, he had taken her brutally and they had created Claude that same night.

He scowled, rubbing his hand over his craggy face. He had treated his wife abominably. And she had continued to love him…

*

Returning his attention to Zeta Ricci Lord he studied her as she sipped his drink slowly. He had refused another drink, wanting to observe the room with a clear head. His men stood close to him, alert and watching.

Zeta’s short stocky legs were in black heels that she obviously did not relish.

Suddenly Lucien found himself thinking of his wife back home and her penchant for running around in the house barefoot in her long flared skirts and peasant blouses. He smiled as he thought of her lovely supple thighs and how they parted for him when…

He swore softly. He had to stop letting his mind drift to Proserpina.

Turning, he took in the scene before him.

*

Dinner had been an elaborate affair. The mini meatballs were succulent as were the salads. Lucien had enjoyed the entrees, particularly the classic chicken Marsala and the Colorado Striped Bass with Cherry Tomatoes & White Wine that the Condor recommended. Lucien had been surprised to note that he had been seated at the table with the Condor and the newlyweds. It was an honour in the Mafioso tradition, to be at the table with the celebrities of the day. H also had a chance to observe the relations between the two newlyweds.

Tristan Lord had continued drinking but he was clearly able to hold the drink well. he tried to be courteous to the glacial woman beside him but Lucien noticed the way she reacted when her new husband accidentally brushed against her sleeve. The glass of wine toppled over as she slapped his hand away fiercely.

Averting his eyes, Lucien pretended to have not seen the little exchange. But the Condor’s face went rigid with fury. Gripping his daughter’s elbow, he spoke in rapid Italian. Lucien caught stanches of the words. Don Ricci was ordering her to behave in front of the guests.

Tristan Lord sat through it, silently, detached.

Once again, Lucien felt a flare of curiosity.

*

A little later, he strolled out onto the terrace for a breath of fresh air. Despite the air conditioners in the room, the air felt stuffy, the smoke from the cigars was getting too much. The tension between Don, his daughter and Tristan was also obvious.

As he stepped out and moved to the balustrade, he saw another figure. Someone was here before him.

Tristan Lord stood with a glass of wine in his hand, staring aimlessly out into the darkness, one large hand in the pocket of his expensive-looking tailored trousers.

Lucien Delano stepped toward him.

*

Tristan Lord

He looked around at the older man who was approaching him with the gait of a boxer, burly and muscular with the coldest grey eyes he had ever seen.

Lucien Delano.

One of the most feared mob bosses of the underworld. A man who had the reputation of being ruthless; Of having killed many of his opponents with his bare hands.

A fighter who pursued his enemies to their death.

Lucien Delano was several inches shorter than him but he exuded power, a virility that made other men pale in comparison. Carrying himself with self-assurance and enviable confidence, and arrogance the younger man could not help but be covetous of, for he made Tristan feel dwarfed too.

Right now, Tristan knew the Boss was locked in a fierce battle with another gangster, Dmitri Rudenko. It was also a personal thing, his father-in-law had mentioned, looking thoroughly glad to think that he was not in Delano’s sights.

Although his father-in-law, Don Ricci was also involved in the flesh trade, he stayed out of Dmitri Rudenko’s way. The man was too much of a sadist. The vats of acid in his warehouses were notorious torture implements.

*

Now he automatically straightened and turned to greet the older man with his shock of vibrant grey hair. The icy grey eyes slid over his face coolly, assessing him as the man reached his hand out, his bodyguards hovering close by.

Tristan grasped the hand, struck by the firmness and strength in the handclasp. He had never had any occasion to meet Delano before; he knew that the man had a battery of legal advisors who were kept busy all the year-round. His arms dealing and gun-running empire was vast.

Now the older man looked at him, clapping him on the shoulder, without releasing his hand.

‘Congratulations.’ He growled in a deep baritone.

Tristan replied politely but his lack of enthusiasm was obvious.

Lucien Delano gave him a keen look and said,

‘Marriage is not all that bad, my friend.’

Tristan met his eyes in some surprise and had to look away.

Another knot of guests wandered out onto the patio and seeing Lucien, one of them raised his hand in greeting.

Lucien acknowledged him with a curt nod.

He turned to leave with the words,

‘ Keep in touch, my young friend.’

As Tristan began to reply, the older man’s phone began to ring. He glanced at the screen and his face altered.

Curious, Tristan watched the play of emotions on the otherwise shuttered face of the man standing close to him

It was a slight change in his attitude, almost imperceptible; he seemed to soften, to relax as he addressed the person who had called.

‘Woman?’ he growled questioningly as he spoke to the person at the other end of the phone.

Intrigued, Tristan listened to the note of gentleness, the affection in the older man’s voice as he spoke.

When he growled,’ Go to bed, woman, get some rest.’ Tristan wondered who it was, someone he cherished, obviously. A loved mistress, perhaps.

The Don turned to leave, his face restored to its former cold expression. Catching Tristan’s eyes, he smiled, a mere twitch of his thin but somehow, attractive-looking mouth.

‘My Woman. She’s expecting our sons. Twins again.’ He said briefly but the note in his voice stimulated Tristan’s interest.

Tristan turned to regard him in genuine fascination. He was impressed by this enigmatic man who ruled his empire with an iron fist but whose voice had melted with love as he spoke to his wife. He loved them, his family and the woman who had borne his children.

‘How many children do you have?’ asked Tristan knowing that only the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed had made him ask such an intimate question. Swaying, he looked at the other man, openly inquisitive.

Lucien Delano shot a penetrating look at him and seemed to think the same.

‘We have three, ‘he said briefly as Tristan looked at him,

‘She’s expecting my sons, twin sons again.’ He said casually but he looked proud, thought Tristan, torn between astonishment, incredulity, and envy.

The older man turned and walked away, his men immediately forming a protective circle around him and Tristan stared after him, strangely impressed by the glimpse of the real man behind the mask he had seen.

*

Sophie.

She lay in bed, listening to the sound of Paddy breathing as he snored softly, his small mouth open. It was barely daylight, the grey blanket of smog was yet to rise.

The conversation she had had with Worthington seemed to play in her mind, over and over again.

*

The oily little man had been pleased when she called.

‘Ah, my little bird, ‘ he had trilled and she scowled.

“Stop calling me that,’ she spat out through gritted teeth.

He gave a cackle of laughter, ominous and grating.

‘Ah, but I think of you like my little robin, you know, Robin Red Breast.’ She felt her anger shoot up and tightened her hand on the cell phone.

Taking a deep breath, she counted to ten.

“Do you or do you not want me to go on?’ she snapped,’ or shall I call later when you are in a better mood?’

He gave a laugh and she realised that he was high on some substance. What must be happening to Sondra, she thought wretchedly and waited for him to stop laughing.

‘Tell me, sweet little birdie.’ he said in a cajoling voice.

*

She had told him about how Proserpina and Lucien were expecting their third set of children. A pair of twins. She told him of the approaching birthday and the celebrations of the older pair of children as well.

“Have they invited you to their f*cking party?’ he asked sharply and she could hear the interest in his voice.

‘Uh…no…’ she said shortly.

Although Proserpina had seemed to want to invite her, it had not come through. Sophie suspected that Lucien Delano had had a hand behind it; the man had given her a glacial, penetrating look when he had seen her in the kitchen. The Boss had not been happy to see her with his family; that had been obvious.

*

The man at the other end sounded enraged

“Why the f*ck have you not been able to go? ‘ he asked, the annoyance in his voice coming through clearly. And then, raising his voice he went on,

“F*ck! You said that the boss’ f*cking wife had a soft corner for your f*cking halfwit nephew!’

Sophie froze, her body grew warm.

How DARE he call Paddy a halfwit? She thought as a wave of distress and fury washed through her.

Worthington seemed to agnize that he had spoken out of turn.

‘Uhh…Huh… I meant,’ he began.

“Don’t you Dare call my nephew a halfwit?’ She seethed

In a dismissive manner, Worthington went on,

“Oh, okay. But make sure you weasel your way in somehow. I want you in that household.’

“Not going to happen.’ snapped Sophie sourly. And went on crossly,

‘Proserpina is expecting her second set of twins. She…’

‘Wait, wait, wait, little bird,’ cried the man at the other end excitedly.

“Hold on. Did you say the c*nt is pregnant again?’ he cried as Sophie stepped back, holding the phone away from her ears, disgusted at his choice of words, his voice came across, clearly.

‘F*ck!!! Lucien f*cking Delano is breeding his f*cking sl*t again?’

Sophie had had enough.

“Can you stop saying f*ck all the time?’ she shouted, her voice rising. Paddy, who was playing on the floor with a set of toy cars that Proserpina had gifted him, looked her way in alarm.

Smiling reassuringly at him, she turned to the wall and hissed,

“Yes. let’s continue this conversation later. I need to go now.’

But the man’s voice was positively gleeful. She could picture him rubbing his hands together.

“Oh, lala !’ he sang.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

“You are a darling, Sophie Bird.’

“What do you mean?’ asked Sophie with growing panic. What had she done?

“It’s a game-changer, that’s what it is, exclaimed the oily pimp. ‘her value as the pregnant wife of Lucien Delano will make her more valuable in the eyes…’

He stopped abruptly as he understood that he had spoken too much, revealing something that had not been meant for her ears.