Owning the Mafia Don

Proserpina

Lucien raised his head. His face was glazed with want and I knew that if we had not been in the Hall, I would have been beneath him on the floor, being thoroughly ravished by this man.

I smiled, teasing him and licked my lips, an action that never failed to rouse him.

‘I think I would like to taste you,’ I whispered, pulling his head down so that he was the only one who heard me.

He took my hand and kissed the inside of my wrist, making me shiver with longing. Then pulling me close, he said in a hoarse whisper,

‘Behave yourself, woman.’

I dimpled at him and felt his eyes, those eyes that always seemed cold and distant, glow with hunger. He pulled me to him, making me aware of his strength, his desire which he was controlling with an iron hand. Gently, tenderly, I stroked his face with the stitches and the bruises. This was my lover, my fighter, my Mafia Don.

Lucien bent to kiss me again, a low rumble in his chest as he claimed me.

I had forgotten for a moment that we were not alone. Schwartz who was standing close by cleared his throat loudly.

Startled, I spun around, blushing as I met his twinkling eyes.

“Ahem. Maybe, ‘he said with a dry smile, ‘Maybe you two newlyweds should get a room.’

I dimpled at him, I was feeling so happy.

‘James Schwartz,’ I said softly, turning to him and placing a hand on his muscled arm,Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

‘Maybe YOU should get yourself a wife.’

A look of pain flashed across his face and I felt contrite. His wife had been killed along with his little son years ago. There had been a bomb meant as a message for my own husband. Unfortunately, it had gone off, killing the Schwartz family on the spot.

And that had been when the entire chain of events involving Dmitri and Lucien, had begun to unfold. Lucien had killed Dmitri’s brother in retaliation. Dmitri was still looking to get back at him…

“I am sorry, that was insensitive of me,’ I whispered and reaching up, I touched his cheek unthinkingly. A deep growl behind me reminded me of my husband’s annoyance and I stepped back, snuggling into Lucien.

“Sorry darling,’ I lisped

He did not say a word but I knew he always felt that Schwartz had more than a soft corner for me.

***

It was past four in the morning and I yawned tiredly. Lucien sent me a sidelong mocking look.

“Bedtime, Woman?’ he queried in his gruff voice.

Smiling, I said,

“I need to use the washroom, Lucien…’

He nodded at one of his men across the room. Danielle looked too wasted and Grace looked harassed as she did her best to keep her partner from being rude to everyone in sight. I decided to go alone, escorted by Lucien’s men, Shah and Travis. I noticed Sophie, who was serving drinks.

Absently, I thought she would be a good match for Schwartz. She would make him laugh more often!

As I left the washroom, we almost walked into Worthington.

He was leaning by the door, watching and I had the peculiar feeling that he had been waiting for me. The sight of the bodyguards did not seem to faze him; he smiled at me in his oily fashion.

I glanced at him, not bothering to respond to his smile and hurried away. But his eyes seemed to bore into me as I went.

***

He stood, watching the woman who Lucien Delano seemed to be smitten by, walk away. Her hips swung as she moved, seductive without being aware of it. No wonder he had no time for Catalina, thought Worthington. This woman was enough to keep a man in bed for hours.

She was a saucy young thing he thought, analytically. She would do well in one of his movies. He licked his lips. He could almost see her in one of his rough sex movies, shrinking in terror as his men moved to possess her…

Smiling to himself and humming tunelessly, he moved away.

And stopped.

His phone tweeted.

He checked the face of the phone and felt his palms sweating. Dmitri Rudenko always had that effect on him.

Answering the call, he said in a hushed voice,

“Yes, they are still here. Delano and his wife…’

***

Proserpina

As I re-entered the Hall, my eyes searched for Lucien. True to form, he was standing, facing the door, glowering. Impatient as ever when I was out of his sight in a public place. The bodyguards with me had tried to hurry me as we went. Lucien had been on their backs, I deduced from their harried expressions.

A hand in the pocket of his jacket and a scowl on his rugged features, he stood, built like a wall, hard and muscular, waiting for me. His eyes like chips of grey slate, watched every step, shutting out the world around him.

I smiled.

I would never stop loving this man. He was not perfect, not by any yardstick. But he was all I wanted, all I craved for…

All his smiles, all his kisses were for me, only me and that filled my heart with love. All I wanted was to be back home, with him, in our large home, with our three children around us.

I wanted to be in bed with him in our enormous bed, making love to him, for I loved the feel of his muscular arms around me…

***

The phone trilled as I reached him and Lucien’s face went still as he listened to the voice at the other end.

Then, without any preamble, he gripped my arm and gave a brief nod to a winger who was standing behind him.

In a booming voice, he roared,

‘Thank you, my dear friends, my wife and I are leaving now. But you may stay for as long as you wish.’

And with that we left the hall, a tight circle of men surrounding us, escorting us to the car.

I caught sight of Catalina who had been sitting on the lap of a man in one of the wide armchairs, her retinue of toy boys with her. She was watching us. Lucien strode out, oblivious to the look of undisguised lust on her over painted face as she followed him with her beady eyes.

There was a look of pure hatred directed at me that made me shiver in apprehension. But it was Lucien’s demeanour that frightened me. He moved with purpose, gripping my hand in his, herding me to the large sedan that drove up just as we reached the door. His men seemed to be jumpy too and the car took off in a squeal of tires almost as we shut the doors. I was used to Lucien and his brooding but this was different. Yet I remained quiet and did not question him until we were on the way back home. He was on the phone, barking orders, and I realised that he was talking to Beston.

Tony Beston.

Head of the security detail at our mansion.

A slow foreboding unfolded within me.

Panicking now, I looked at him, taking in his grey pallor, my heart pounding with dread.

“Lucien, what is it?’ I whispered frightened. Moving closer to him I asked, ‘Tell me please, you are scaring me…?’

Lucien looked at me, his eyes burning with anger. And uncertainty.

As though he was weighing how to tell me something unpleasant and how much to reveal. Then, taking a deep breath, he shook his head and rasped,

“Dmitri Rudenkp. His men entered the house… they reached the children’s room but…’

Without listening to any more, I cried out, grabbing his arm,

‘Please, Lucien, tell me they are safe, tell me my babies are safe…’ I cried in terror.