Owning the Mafia Don

Sophie

She glared at her reflection. Her red hair looked frizzier than ever. Paddy was being difficult. In fact, he had simply not been able to adjust to returning to Hollowford and living in the small apartment which was otherwise in a good locality, furnished and spacious.

Sophie knew he was pining for Proserpina and the kids. They had welcomed him as part of their family. Proserpina had been in tears when Paddy was forced to stay back when the Delano family were leaving in their fancy aircraft. She had hung back, looking pleadingly at her husband, begging him to allow Paddy to accompany them. But Lucien Delano had stepped forward and pulled his wife to his side, making her leave without Paddy.

As for her mother, Sophie stared outside at the sidewalk. The old woman was never going to recover. The nurse had politely suggested that she sign the forms asking for the ventilator to be removed. Yet Sophie held back. Every day without fail, she visited her mother and sat, holding the comatose woman’s limp hand.

On one occasion, she had heard the nurses speak about how Proserpina kept calling every day to find out about Sophie’s mother.

Sophie had only felt even angrier.

***

She was back to work at the Club, with Danielle Eton lording it over everyone as before.

And Worthington was constantly in touch. He even sent her pictures of Sondra, lying on a bed, wearing skimpy undergarments, looking d*ped. The sight had made Sophie weep.

Now she frowned at the message the oily pimp had sent her.

She smote her head.

He wanted her to arrange to get Catalina inside the Club.

How in the hell did they expect her to be able to smuggle in Catalina? The woman had been banned from the Club by Lucien Delano and he would probably strangle Sophie first if he found that she had done something so wrong as to go against his express orders.

She shut her eyes and leaned against the wall.

Worthington, the bully, sent her a voice clipping, a woman screaming in pain,

“Stop, stop, NOOOOO…..!!!”

Then he called, his voice silky with menace as he whispered, almost pityingly,

“Your choice, dear girl.’

Sophie squeezed her eyes shut. She knew what she had to do.

***

Lucien

He wanted to get back home immediately. Proserpina had sounded tired, and exhausted when she had called, gently begging him to come home early.

But that wily fox, Manque, had managed to get his father to add some clauses that they had agreed not to add in their discussions the previous night. Lucien had been incensed.

But he had not shown his anger; on the contrary, he had decided to stay on till night so that he could hammer out a deal that was suitable for him.

Going over the details with Isandro he had sat talking to him, finally wearing him down with threats when nothing seemed to work. The old man had rescinded but he was aware of Manque’s fury.

As he was leaving the conference room, the younger man accompanied him and said in a sneer,

” I hear your wife is an …umm…beauty.’

He paused enough to make the older Mafia Don aware that he had wanted to use some other term to describe Proserpina.

Lucien stiffened. His hands curled into fists and Manque hastily took a step back. The Boss hated it when people brought his wife into a conversation.

His cold grey eyes flicked over the Argentine’s face as he grunted and waited for the elevator, his men close by.

Manque went on, grinning wide, his ugly smile revealing his barely hidden lust as he said,

‘Bring her with you next time, man. We would like to meet her. We could have some entertainment.’

Before he could say anything more, the elevator doors swished open and his men and Lucien entered. He was fuming as it carried him upstairs but a strange unease descended upon him. Why had Manque mentioned Proserpina? They seemed to know a lot about his family.

He scowled and thought,

“I need to get home to them soon.’

***

Schwartz

He came awake to the feel of a warm body pressed to his chest and he grunted in satisfaction.

And opened his eyes, wondering where he was for a moment.

The drapes of the hotel room were moving gently and he remembered that he had spent the night at The DeLuxe, the best hotel in town, with Aiyana Preston.

He grinned and ran his hand over his stubbled cheek, careful not to disturb the woman beside him.

It had been out of this world.

Neither of them had been with a lover for some time; while she had had one night flings twice, he had taken a few women to bed but the attraction had fizzled out by morning.

Schwartz was a One Woman Man, as Shark had often sneered.

But Aiyana had floored him.

She was a woman who was not hesitant in showing her ardour. They had begun tentatively, unsure of each other. Both of them had their own stories, their own grief’s and surrendering to their passion in a stranger’s arms was not something either of them had ever done with such genuine want

She had taken the lead at first and Schwartz had been content to let her do so.

But her lithe, bronzed body moving on top of him had aroused him and soon, they were giving in to their deep desires, their bodies hungry for each other. He grinned and turned to look at her as she yawned and shifted, turning to lie on her back, her lids fluttering as she gradually came awake.

He rolled over, a hand on her waist and she initially stiffened.

Then her black eyes heavy with desire she said in a bluesy voice, a slow smile beginning to spread on her face,

“Shall we see if that was really as good as I thought it was?’

He chuckled and bent to kiss her as her arms went around his neck, tugging him onto her body.

He returned to his apartment, feeling satisfied after a long, long while. He wanted to shout it out from the rooftops or tell someone.

As he stepped from the shower, he grinned and picked up his phone, deciding to tell Proserpina.

She would be thrilled, he thought.

The phone rang for a longer while than usual and alarm bells went off in his head. When no one responded, he called Beston.

“Ma’am has gone to visit the doctor,’ said the man in his clear, clipped manner.’ Travos and Michael are with her.’ He went on, naming the best men they had.

Schwartz frowned and made up his mind. He was going to the house to meet her.

He checked his phone and saw that there were a pile of messages from Lucien.

The Boss sounded tense as he instructed Schwartz to accompany Proserpina to the doctor. Swearing at himself for not having checked his phone earlier, Schwartz pushed aside the thought of how well he had spent the night.

There was work to be done.

***

Aiyana

She sat at the breakfast table, munching on a piece of toast.

After what seemed like ages, she felt whole again.

Schwartz was a good lover, thorough and gentle.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

The waiter who was serving her darted her a curious look as he caught her smiling goofily, staring into space. She gave him a cold look and left. There was a jaunty swing to her pert behind as she strode out.

It would be nice to stay on in Hollowford for a few more days, she mused.

And felt a wave of heat flood her face.