Owning the Mafia Don

LucienThis material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

He was old. That was the thought Lucien had as he swung his arm and felt it connect with his opponent’s jaw but harmlessly.

Denizen the Destroyer had been like a power-packed tank from the word go. He had been beating Lucien thoroughly, thrashing him at every angle. And Lucien knew that for every one punch he managed to make, The Destroyer would come back with two. He was a young man, not yet twenty-five years old, and his speed was lethal. The force of his punches was also fierce but Lucien had begun well. He had smashed Denizon’s nose once, given him a cut above his eye and made the man bleed.

Gradually, he had begun to tire. Dimly, he was aware of the crowd roaring, he could see Schwartz’s white face as his friend stood close to the ropes, anxiety on his handsome features, his hands on his hips, scowling. Catalina was moving at the periphery of his vision in her absurd costume, screeching, urging him to fight.

Lucien

His opponent was huge, and packed with muscle. For a fleeting moment, Lucien wondered if he had added to his weight after the mandatory weighing-in that had been conducted earlier.

Now the younger man seemed to be flitting in and out, making Lucien feel giddy.

How can he move so quickly, thought Lucien dazedly as he stepped back a fraction too late to avoid another punch. He felt himself landing on the ground with a thud, wincing at the blow.

Blue Lawson’s face was in his vision, asking,

“Delano, Boss, do you want to continue?’

Somehow, Lucien pulled himself up and stood, swaying. The effort made his head swim.

Damn, he thought fiercely, I should just give up.

But the expressions of the people he cared for, Danielle and Schwartz who were watching him from the edge of the ring, the thought of Proserpina and his children, especially Ria, made him nod his head, locking eyes with Lawson as he growled,

“Yeah. I’m good.’

****

Earlier at breakfast that day, Ria had asked him,

Pappa, are you afraid of Denizen the Destroyer?

And he had replied, arrogantly,

“I might hurt him.”

He grimaced and felt his sore and bloodied jaw.

He had been so wrong. And his daughter, who thought that the sun shone out of his head, she would be so disappointed.

Ria was up to speed; she would have heard of the battering her father was taking.

Rolling his shoulders, he thought of Proserpina, with tears in her great brown eyes, begging him not to fight.

He had not listened to her.

There would be disappointment and pity in the looks of the people he knew. He rotated his neck and stood up, preparing to take on The Destroyer.

***

Now his trainer was yelling out, “Delano!’

Lucien squinted at the man. He could barely open his left eye; it had received one of the Destroyer’s strong hits. He knew he had to move away, quickly. His body was taking time to respond to his urgent commands.

But he could make out that his opponent was also getting tired, he was breathing heavily, loudly.

The air in the auditorium was cold and the sweat from his body appeared to be like steam.

They had been punching and attacking each other for all nine rounds till now. Denizen had been taken aback by Lucien’s strength, but he was getting slower and more tired with each round. That was what the younger man was waiting for. Lucien was agile, yet the younger man had the advantage of his age.

While the Mob Boss was hard-hitting, the young man was swifter.

***

Now Lucien re-focussed on his opponent who was breathing harshly. The young man had been badly hurt but he was not showing it. The shouts of the crowd grew louder.

There was a deep cut above Denizen’s eyes and the blood was trickling down his temples, profusely. His narrow green eyes seemed glazed too. Lucien remembered having given him a hard punch in the sixth round, and the wild smash he had attempted, had actually connected with Denizen’s face, opening the cut up further.

Even as Lucien felt he was too weary to continue, the Destroyer raised his hand to punch him again, an enormous, veined and tattooed arm with the thick fist coming directly at his face.

*

Proserpina

I stood, staring at the awful scene unfolding before me. Lucien was exhausted, there was blood streaming down his harsh face, and his posture was that of a man who was about to give up. I could see Danielle and Schwartz near the ropes, looking tense. Danielle had her finger in her mouth, chewing her nails to the quick in agitation, while Schwartz was running his hands through his thick blonde hair, mussing up his elegant hairdo.

Grace was nearby, texting Danielle. I did not wait. I started down the steps at a run. A girl in a fancy server’s costume appeared in my path, and I almost shoved her away in my haste.

Hey, she exclaimed crossly, Watch it!

And then seeing the expression on my face she inquired in concern, gripping my arm as I had lost my balance and was tottering on the edge of the stairs,

“Hey, are you okay?’ she said as I stopped, swaying on the steps, disoriented, watching the man they called Denizen the Destroyer raise his fist, and draw back his arm to punch Lucien in the face. My husband, the man I loved with all my heart went down and I screamed. But the sound was muffled as the crowd roared, cheering on Denizen.

Hooting at Lucien.

I felt rage course through my frame.

****

The girl who had stopped me, a pretty, freckled redhead with sparkling green eyes, was staring at me in consternation.

“You’re crying.’ She said almost in wonder.

“That is my husband!’ I shouted jabbing my finger in the direction of the ring, and with a sob, I went on,’ And that MONSTER is going to KILL HIM!!!’

I barely registered the look of astonishment on her face, heard her say as if from far away,

“YOU are the Boss wife? Damn! You are so young!’

I glared at her and set off down the stairs.

***

A few of the people in the audience had got to their feet and were hooting. One of them blocked my path. Even as I began to ask them to move, the red-haired woman came up and shoved at the man hard with her tray. When he rounded on her in anger, she grinned disarmingly and said,

“I thought you signalled for a drink, Sir.’

***

Looking at her in gratitude, I scampered ahead as she winked at me. I rushed down and made it to the area where Schwartz and Danielle were standing.

Both of them exclaimed in surprise at seeing me.

” What are you doing here?’ cried Schwartz, spinning around, his hands on my shoulders.

“You should not have come!’

Danielle interrupted him,

‘Don’t be such an old woman, Schwartz!”

And then, grimly,

” Don’t look to me like the Boss is going to win this one!’