Owning the Mafia Don

Lucien

But the next morning, he was confronted with the news that made him tear off to his office in the Club at once, with Schwartz in tow.

Siek Toth had called.

The monk had flown the coop. Along with his fiendish nephew.

*

Lucien had entrusted Toth with the task of finding Father Paval and Dusak, to eliminate them, once and forever. But the cunning monk had slipped out of the net.

In a frenzy of rage, Lucien left his house immediately after getting the news. Proserpina looked pained as she studied him at the breakfast table. He ate his breakfast without stopping to relish the pancakes she had prepared. He saw the concern in her eyes as she came to his study while he was preparing to leave. Beston and Schwartz were with him but Proserpina requested them in her soft way,

‘Could I have a minute with him?’

The men left, Schwartz, looking worried as he gently touched her arm while leaving.

‘What?’ barked Lucien, the lover of the previous day a stranger.

Proserpina had seen him for too long to be intimidated.

‘No, tell me, please,’ she said, coming to him and placing a small hand on his broad chest.

He grunted, looking down at her pretty, upturned face. He felt the familiar stab of guilt. He was the cause of all her sufferings and she still looked at him with love and trust shining out of her beautiful brown eyes. He gripped her waist and kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue, forcing her to sag against his body in surrender.

She whimpered.

And he pushed her away.

“Do not leave the house, woman.’ he growled and strode out of the room.

Proserpina leant against the wooden cabinet, a hand on her sore mouth.

“What was the matter?” she wondered. But the urgency in her husband made her feel a tremor of fear.

*

Lucien was at the office in record time. He had planned to have a meeting with his associates the town house, but the plan had to be scrapped. This was of the utmost urgency; the matter with the monk. He knew that the man would not leave him, especially since the one-eyed boy was involved as well now.

It took a while to find out from his sources in the Continent.

It turned out that the group had been seen leaving the border crossing into Austria. And thereafter, into Italy.

Lucien sat, his brows knitted. He picked up the phone, making calls as Schwartz did the same. Anything that affected the Boss was automatically Schwartz’s matter too.

By late evening, they had drawn a blank. the man had been seen entering Austria and then, footage had surfaced of the small group entering Italy. That had been hours ago. But after that, they seemed to have vanished.

Lucien smote his forehead, drinking from the tumbler that his man had replenished.

He knew with some certainty that the man would cross over into the US.

*

Danielle strode into the room, a sheaf of papers in her hands.

Now that she was in charge of the day-to-day running of the Club, she was here by mid-morning and only left in the wee hours of the morning.

Lucien studied the papers, going through everything carefully before affixing his signature. As she was turning to leave, a sudden thought struck him.

“Why was my Woman upset last evening?’ he barked. The ice-blonde head lifted and the lips drew back in a sneer.

“For a Big Bad Gangster, you sure are dense sometimes, Boss,’ drawled Danielle, her inevitable cigar in her mouth as she puffed away. Lucien scowled at her and then turned to meet Schwartz’s eyes. The younger man had come close to the desk, having ended his call. Although they had been working all day, Handsome James looked as debonair as ever. His blonde hair flopped on his forehead as he met the Boss’ eyes severely.

“That woman is hurting because you never gave her the wedding she deserved,’ he said, his face sober.

Lucien sat up, his brows drawing together in a straight line.

“WHAT THE F*CK?’ he roared but neither of the people in the room looked remotely perturbed. Schwartz nodded, supporting her,

‘You didn’t, mate.’

He looked sadly, pityingly, at Lucien who stared back at him in disbelief.

What was Handsome James saying?

He turned to meet Danielle’s narrow-eyed look. She nodded her head vigorously.

“Yup,’ she said, pulling out a chair, she sat down heavily on it, ‘Women need these things, Boss,’ she went on gently but Lucien interrupted her, bellowing in fury,

“I f*cking married her! I announced it before the f*cking world in a f*cking …’

He stopped.

‘Ever taken her on a honeymoon, mate?’ drawled Schwartz, planting his lean hands on the polished oak table, meeting Lucien’s eyes.

“Without the kids, God bless them, but alone?’

Lucien downed his whiskey in a gulp and refilled it, furious with himself, his wife and the world at large.

“But she never f*cking said…’

‘Do you think she would?’ sneered Danielle, and mimicking him, she went on,

” She f*cking worships you, Boss.’

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Proserpina

I helped Rachel get ready with the wedding preparations. It was to be a simple ceremony for both of them were atheists. They did not believe in any religion, and power.

Only Nature, said Rachel with a smile as she held Lam Ghiang’s hand.

Which was why they had chosen to get married in a garden, facing the sea.

*

As I baked in the kitchen that evening, I hummed my favourite song which was playing on my music system. I often did that, listened to music when I worked or cooked. It made me feel relaxed.

And it was always the romantic, old hits that made me smile as I worked.

Ria and Piers raced into the kitchen, followed by Paddy and of course, Claude. Melissa’s little fellow, Jack was trailing behind and I smiled at them. Ria clambered onto a stool and looked at me curiously.

“Mumma, you love this song, don’t you?’ she asked, her nose wrinkling in distaste. Obviously, my young daughter did not think much of the crooning by the singer though I loved his slightly nasal voice.

I had been listening to UB 40, “I Can’t help Falling in Love with You…’

It was a song I adored, I loved the words, the most, the lyrics, the utter helplessness of the one who was in love.

Now I hummed and nodded my head absently as I stirred the bowl.

*

Melissa had come in earlier and asked me shyly if I needed help. But I had smilingly rejected her offer. Although I did like to have Beatrice around, while I cooked, I generally preferred to do my work all by myself. Of course, the maids helped in the cleaning but that was it.

I had discovered that Melissa was a person who chose to be by herself. I had not tried to prise her story out from her but it had been easy to see that she was hiding from someone, waiting for her lover and the father of her child, to come to take her away. It would be a long wait, Lucien had told me the previous night when I asked him as we lay, my head on his chest, as I stroked the curling hair on his powerfully muscled chest, his skin still damp after he had taken me so thoroughly.