Owning the Mafia Don

They left the scene of the crime quickly. Old Gustav had collapsed, dead with the force of the blow. Though Phillipe had hit him with the blunt end of the axe, the old man had died instantaneously.

Proserpina hugged Philippe and wondered silently why he seemed to feel no remorse for having killed a man. But the youth seemed frozen and exhausted. Would he become like Lucien, she thought, holding him in her arms, pitiless when it came to his enemies and anyone who threatened his loved ones? For she had watched in horror as, with his hands bound, her lover had tackled the woman holding the gun and brought her to the ground.

Siek Toth had reached the spot, by now and had taken stock of the attack. Enfolding Lucien in a hug before barking orders to his men, he insisted that they leave at once. Lucien needed medical help. His wound was bleeding again, staining the rough cloth around his chest a deep crimson. As they raced away from the place, Proserpina glanced back. The menacing dark silhouettes of the trees, their gnarled, dry limbs reaching to the sky, was a sight she would forever associate with death, she thought and shuddered. Lucien, who had pulled her into the crook of his arm, glanced down at her and said nothing, his mouth seeking hers urgently.

Schwartz turned to say something, and for a minute, as his eyes rested on the couple, locked in a passionate kiss, he felt a pang of deep jealousy, but it passed away in a flash. He smiled ruefully. The Boss and His Woman, he thought with a grin, shaking his head indulgently and scrubbing at his unshaven cheek.

Aiyana glanced at them too and looked away.

What it would be to love like that, she thought curiously, and to be loved in that way…

*

Siek Toth was insistent. His men had cleared the place of the dead bodies. Apart from Ivica and old Gustav, there was another man, probably one of the monk’s men, who had been shot and killed by Schwartz. All the bodies had been burnt along with the shed.

His men had made it look like an accident, he said and he would take care of any questions that were asked.

The Slavic gang lord went on; he had an inkling that Father Paval would try to create trouble if they stayed there. So after Lucien and the others had been examined by a doctor, they were whisked away to the airfield. In a few hours, they were winging their way back home and Proserpina sighed.

*

Lucien’s wound had begun to bleed again and the doctor had had to stitch him up. The crude way in which Ivica had bandaged him had served its purpose temporarily, but the wound had re-opened during his fight. Having had a much-needed wash, he was wrapped in a bulky overcoat and dressed in his usual clothes, but his untrimmed beard and hollowed eyes gave him the look of a barbarian. Quite in contrast to the lean, handsome man who stood beside him, Handsome James Schwartz.

Siek gripped their hands as they boarded the aircraft. To her surprise, he bent to kiss Proserpina’s hand and said in a voice that reflected the genuineness of his words as he said,

‘ Madame, I salute you.’ and turning to Lucien, he said, “If this little woman had not crossed the seas to come in search of you…’

He shook his head admiringly and his small, pale eyes sparkled in appreciation as he went on,

‘She believed when none of us could. She believed you were alive, my friend. ‘

Once again, he looked at Proserpina.

Proserpina turned pink in embarrassment as the man looked her way again, admiration evident in his gleaming gaze, and Lucien gripped her arm tightly.

His posture symbolized what he did not say.

She is MINE. She belongs to me.

‘You are lucky …’ murmured Toth in response to the unspoken words.

The Slav embraced him, and Lucien grunted.

*

Lucien sat for a while, discussing matters with Schwartz. It was mid-morning back home, and one of the first things he had done was to speak to his children. Ria had wept openly when she saw him during the video call. Piers had tried to be brave but his face collapsed for a while and he wept too. Their joy made him feel grateful again and he turned to Proserpina who was snuggled beside him, exhaustion on her lovely face. He had not let her out of his sight after they had been united. He could not seem to get enough of her, her fragrant body, her soft, womanly curves, and those exquisite lips.Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

He pulled her into his arms again, kissing her hungrily, ignoring the fact that he had been talking to Schwartz who smiled indulgently and looked away. Aiyana sat across from them too, her head leaning against the headrest, her eyes half-closed.

Philippe was snoring in a seat, long legs stretched out in front of him on the recliner seat. He looked like the child he was and Proserpina’s heart ached for him.

*

Toth had confirmed the news; Father Paval was indeed Dmitri Rudenko’s brother, actually, a half-brother. The young man, who had been partially blinded was Dusak Rudenko. Although the monk had reported a shooting to the local authorities, Toth, whose reach was higher than Paval’s had managed to hush up the investigation. But the truth was out there. Dmitri Rudenko’s kin lived on and they would be there, like vultures waiting for their pound of flesh, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Lucien was confident that he would be able to handle any threat but deep down, he wished it had all ended with the killing of Dmitri Rudenko. All he wanted was to carry on his business, to be with his family, to f*ck his lovely young woman, the woman who had staunchly believed in him, who had continued to search for him against all odds when no one else was prepared to agree with her.

Humbly, he turned to her, as she leaned her head on his shoulder. ‘Get to sleep, woman.’ he ordered hoarsely.

Her beautiful brown eyes opened slowly, and it took her a while to comprehend where they were. She sat up, hiding a yawn and sighed. ‘I think so.’

She looked across at Aiyana who appeared to be asleep on the recliner seat, legs comfortably stretched out, a comforter thrown across her legs.

With a smile at Schwartz, she made her way to the back of the aircraft, to the large bed, stopping to pull the comforter securely over Phillippe’s sleeping form as she went. He watched her go, the heavy hips swaying just so, tantalisingly, her full figure with the firm, large breasts outlined under the blouse she was wearing, unconsciously sexy .

F*ck, but just looking at her made him want to spear her softness with his aching, erect member.

Lucien turned to catch a look of undisguised adoration in the eyes of his best friend and felt his insides clench.

Schwartz had been looking at Proserpina with a such a look of love, he thought. If it had been anyone but the man before him, he would have killed him, weak though he was.

But not this man.

Never this man.

Handsome James was his best buddy and his mate. The man who had and would continue to put himself in the line of fire to save Lucien Delano.

He reached out a hand to grip his friend’s arm and said gruffly,

‘You love her too, eh?’

Schwartz looked at him, wide-eyed. Then he gave a self-deprecating chuckle and said in a low voice, very simply,

‘From the time you wed her, mate. From the time I first saw her that day when you dragged her into the Club and declared you were going to marry her, That she was the mother of your twins.’

He sighed and rubbed his jaw as he went on,

‘ And, it has not abated.’

He could have added, ‘From that day when I first saw her lovely, petrified face.’ But he chose to keep that part to himself.

it was enough that he had finally confessed to his friend.

He shrugged sadly, almost dismissively, and went on, his green eyes boring into those of the man he worshipped, his mentor, and said in a low voice.

“But, I will never let her know. You know that, mate.’

Lucien looked at him and felt a surge of some unexplained emotion flood him.

Could it be gratitude?

He was lucky to have people like Proserpina and Schwartz with him, he thought, and a strange feeling of gratitude and humility swept over him. Did he deserve them? Such fine and noble people? For he knew he was cruel and crass, brutal and merciless. Shaking his head, he stood up as he said roughly,

“Get some sleep, mate.’

Turning, he walked to the back of the aircraft to join his wife. As his bodyguard stepped forward to help him, he dismissed the man with a wave.

“I must be going soft in the head,” he thought as he entered the small area and stared at the sleeping form of his wife.