Owning the Mafia Don

I had come awake a while ago, not long after I had drifted off into a tired sleep, my children beside me. Despite having an enormous bed, they managed to zero down to the space around me. I smiled. They were now in a tangled heap of arms and legs, in the centre of the bed. Claude kept stroking the earlobe of the person beside him, a gesture that comforted him, I had noticed. Now he was doing that to Piers in his sleep. He had tried it with Ria who had slapped his hand away fiercely, irritated inspite of being fast sleep. Piers, calm and collected as ever, allowed him to do it and the boys were soon snoring gently.

*

I did not have my nightmares these nights, I reflected gratefully, thanks to Dr. Asha and her therapy.

She had made me unburden myself and I knew that the healing within me, a healing that should have happened a long while ago, was finally beginning.

Beginning with my parents, whom I had never seen or known, to the man I adored, I had bottled up such a lot of emotional angst, I was feeling better after starting the process of letting go, I mused, watching the lights on the lawns.

I sighed and bit my lip.

No, it was thoughts of my lover, my husband, which had brought me awake.

I had a horrible feeling that he was in danger. Yes, I knew he had walked out the door of the house knowing full well that he might never return to me again. The hot tears began to flow again and I squeezed my eyes shut.

We had both sensed it. Our passionate, desperate lovemaking was a goodbye of sorts. Leaning against the window, I looked down. Through the curtains, I could make out the figure of a man patrolling the grounds, weapon in hand.

One of Beston’s finest men, I thought bitterly; while Lucien had chosen to leave with just two of his men, leaving the others behind to protect us.

The tears spilt over.

Sighing, I shook my head.

I needed to get a grip on myself and stop panicking.

Glancing at the luminous face of the digital alarm beside me, I sighed,

I needed to talk to someone and I knew just the person.NôvelDrama.Org content.

Turning down the volume of my favourite piece of music, Cristofori’s Dream, by David Lanz, I lifted up the phone that lay beside me and dialled.

*

Danielle picked up on the second ring.

As I had guessed, she was still at the Club. With both Lucien and Schwartz away, her responsibilities had increased tics over.

She growled in her peculiar fashion.

‘Yo gal. What’s up?’

But I sensed the disquiet in her tone.

She was concerned about me and my children, and although she hid it well behind her lackadaisical approach and Devil May Care attitude, I knew she was worried. The calls she made daily, and the visits made by her partner, Grace, all of it bolstered my faith in my friends.

Now she repeated sharply, as always hiding her apprehensiveness behind her veneer of gruffness,

‘You okay there, girl?’

I sighed, biting my lip and said in a whisper,

“Dani, I am worried sick.’

But the shrewd woman stalled me.

“The Boss? You talking about the man who has taken down hundreds of f*cking mobsters? The man who killed with his bare hands?’ she queried, almost scornfully, ‘Girl you don’t need to get your lacy panties in a twist over HIM.’

I smiled, closing my eyes.

Danielle never minced her words. She had been with my husband for years and had impressed him with her loyalty and her commitment. He had promoted her to the position of senior manager, the only one in charge of all four of his Clubs.

Not a mean feat, I reflected ironically, considering that all the four were exclusive Gentlemen’s Clubs.

While I was only familiar with the country club situated in the suburbs, I was aware of the existence of three more that Lucien had taken over and developed recently.

Two of them also housed Fight Clubs, a pet pastime of my Mafia Boss husband’s.

Having been a street fighter himself, he still went into the ring when he had the chance.

Danielle’s low, rough voice penetrated my thoughts.

‘…in Slovakia.’

I clutched the phone.

“Have you…heard from him…?’ I began, my voice trembling.

‘Nah.’ she said, too quickly and then, we began to chat about Grace who was her lover and my dear friend.

After a while, I glanced at the clock, it was nearly 4 a. m!

‘Dani!’ I cried apologetically,’ I did not notice the time. ‘

She yawned hugely from the other side of the line.

‘You feeling better, kid?’ Her voice showed her concern and I smiled.

‘Yes, Dani.’

“Then get the f*ck to bed, gal. I gotta go and check the ledgers and then head home,’ she snapped.

But I knew that she was also relieved, listening to the note of relaxation in my tone. Talking to her had really alleviated my restlessness. I knew my husband was doing something he had to do; nothing could stop him.

But I also knew that he would come back.

Lucien Delano would come back to me.

^^^

Lucien

The snow was falling heavily now, it was on the way to becoming a blizzard. The only sound was the howling of the wind in the trees, apart, of course, from the sound of Lucien and Dmitri grunting and gasping as they fought to the last.

They rolled in the snow, totally oblivious to the extreme, bitter cold, the driving wind, harsh against their cheeks, and the storm pelting them with shards of ice. Lucien felt his hands slipping, wet with snow and blood…his blood and that of the man beneath him, who was struggling to stay alive. He punched the man again, relishing the screams the man was stifling as his cheekbone shattered.

And then suddenly, as though from a great distance, he heard Schwartz bellowing frantically.

“DELANO!!! Watch out, BOSS!!!”

Lucien turned, and saw the boy bearing down on them, the one who had been with Dmitri. He had managed to rear up on his feet and now stood, swaying, clutching a massive rock in his hands. Schwartz was a little way off, his sniper arm useless as he had been shot by Dmitri’s man who lay in the snow, dead, his sightless eyes glittering. But Handsome James was nevertheless, coming at a trot, clutching his arm, trying to stop the boy.

The youth had a maniacal look on his face as he snarled and brought the boulder down on Lucien’s head.

*