Owning the Mafia Don

Proserpina

Lucien was away for a day. He kept calling to check on us and I was aware of Beston hovering around in the house, more than he usually did. I knew that something was happening, but with my work, my children, and the general running of the house, I had too much on my hands to really bother. My pregnancy was also not too smooth. On the day after he left, I woke up feeling queasy and had to stay in bed for longer than I usually did.

*

Ria had brought young Philippe to the kitchen for a glass of lemonade. He was a lanky young fellow and a few years older than her. Easily seven years older, I thought, as I watched the tanned young boy.

That he adored Ria was obvious. He did not take his eyes off her and followed her commands like an obedient slave. Piers had also trailed in after them to the kitchen and was fooling around with the puppy. I shooed them out soon enough but before that, I heard Ria excitedly tell Philippe,

‘We are having our birthday party next week.’

The young boy was listening avidly. I smiled at him and said,

‘Philippe will also be coming, won’t you, son?’

He smiled shyly and nodded his head as Ria gave a whoop of joy. They ran out of the kitchen soon after and I stood pensively, staring after them.

Beatrice had come up behind me and I smiled at her.

‘You okay?’ she asked, concern in her eyes.

I patted her cheek. She was the closest I would ever have to a mother and I loved her.

‘I am’, I said absently, ‘It is just that I want the twins to join the school.’ I sighed. Lucien and I had been over this a million times. They were turning four in the coming week…

I had prepared a schedule for them, loosely based on the homeschooling program my old friend Brian had told me about. Brian had been the one to suggest it after his visit to the US. He had been impressed by Piers. Working on his suggestions, I zeroed in on a program for them and began to work on it with them.

Piers was eager to learn and did a whole lot of individual reading, unsupervised. His twin was another story though. On one occasion, I had literally been forced to tie her down to the chair to get her to sit and listen. Since I had taken over this task too, it sometimes left me drained.

Besides, a small voice within me told me, they should meet other children as well.

Sighing, I turned away to set about giving instructions on getting lunch underway. I would have to attend to my work and then drag the twins back inside for an hour of study.

My day was chockful, no doubt of that! I thought, smiling softly. Massaging my lower back, I left the kitchen.

*

Lucien

He walked into the large hall with its chandeliers and gaudy curtains, crimson edged in gold mirrors covering one wall. Lucien glanced at his reflection indifferently, seeing a stocky man with a barrel chest, looking elegant and polished.

No one who was meeting Lucien Delano for the first time would ever suspect him of being a criminal, a Boss.Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

That was until they came closer and saw the coldness in his icy grey eyes.

*

With his men in tow forming a protective ring around him, he moved around, mingling in a limited fashion till he had reached Don Guilio Ricci, the man they called The Condor. He had come for a purpose. He needed to see how many of the mobsters here would support him in a war against Dmitri.

It was now clear that they were on a collision course. One and only ONE of them would survive.

Lucien Delano wanted to make sure it would be he.

*

He was a killer. But Lucien Delano had never had any business associations with the Don Ricci, the man they called the Condor. He was into human trafficking and Lucien had drawn the line at that. Having grown up as the son of a drug addict, a prostitute who sold her body for her fix, he had sworn never to get involved in the trade.

He was a fighter, guns and fists had fascinated him from his youth.

His only interest was in arms and gun-running which he had developed into a mini-empire. It kept him wealthy and he had had no reason to dabble in other things.

*

That had been one of the reasons behind Shark’s resentment. He had wanted to do both drugs and human trafficking. It had been Shark who had set up a brothel ferrying women to and from the Club when he needed to keep their clients happy. Yes, and Lucien had also enjoyed the services of the women for a long while. But he had never felt the need to look at another woman after Proserpina had become his wife. He had fought his vulnerability, definitely. But Lucien Delano had known when he was defeated. The woman who was almost twenty years younger than him, with her dimples and her shining brown eyes and hair cascading to her waist, her loving heart, and the alluring body of a temptress had bound him to her.

For Life, he thought as he moved purposefully to the Don.

He would give up his life to keep her and their children safe.

Even descent to the level of meeting scum like the Condor.

*

He was here because he needed to see whether a man as powerful as Don Ricci was with him or whether he would rout for Dmitri Rudenko when the time came. He would gamble, he would make a high offer. But he was always prepared for an eventuality if the Don threw his lot behind the East European gang lord.

The Argentinians had already become an un

stable support with the old man’s sons firmly under Dmitri Rudenko’s influence.

Now, he stepped to the Don whose well-gelled black hair gleamed. The older man had a cunning look in his eyes as he came forward, effusively throwing his arms around Lucien and embracing him, his voice oozing friendliness.

‘Ah, welcome, welcome, fratello, welcome to my humble home, Lucien Delano. I am truly honoured to have you here!’ turning to his companions, grave-looking men in sober black, he declared,

“When the Boss of Central US comes to meet a humble Mafiosa like me…’ The audience looked confused. They murmured uncertainly as the Condor continued,

‘I am truly honoured, my friend. Tell me what you want!’ he said and hollered at someone to bring in more drinks.

At once, a scantily clad woman in what was little more than a bikini stretched across her ample bosom and a pair of panties with feathers sticking out from the back, appeared out of nowhere with a tray of drinks, smiling invitingly at Lucien. He was aware of how uninteresting and hollow the invitation in her gleaming eyes and thick lips appeared. Ignoring her, he waved away the drink. He needed to have a clear head this evening.

He turned and smiled at Don Ricci, a cold, enigmatic smile.

‘I wanted to bless the young couple in person.’ He said smoothly.

A cloud passed over the Don’s face, a cloud that was quickly obliterated. ‘Ah… ‘ he said, smiling warmly.

And then, raising his glass, he said

‘My son-in-law.’ He indicated a young man with his chin as the man strode over.

*

Lucien was mildly surprised. This man did not belong to the Italian clan. He was strikingly handsome, with a broad and muscular physique, black hair and black eyes that were bloodshot with drink. His outfit was superbly tailored, with not a crease in sight and obviously expensive. The watch on his thick wrist was a Patek Philippe Worldtimer, a limited edition. Lucien owned a similar watch and he recognized the brand immediately.

The man had the arrogance of a person used to having his orders carried out unquestioningly. He nodded at Lucien politely but distant after slightly bowing his head to the Condor and murmuring,

‘Papa.’

*

Lucien met Tristan Lord’s eyes.

He knew what Proserpina would say,

‘Look at his eyes, Lucien. He looks unhappy.’

His lips twitched. His little woman had taught him a few things. But as he gazed into the marble-like gaze of the young man who had reached them, he felt it acutely.

Tristan Lord was a deeply unhappy man.

*

He was not happy to be the son-in-law of the Condor. He was hiding it well, smiling and shaking hands, mingling with the guests but the eyes gave him away.

Lucien felt a mild curiosity; what could be the story behind that? The man was in his thirties, late thirties, perhaps? He looked familiar and as Lucien was frowning, the Condor said smoothly,

‘Tristan Lord. The man who has wed my figlia , my daughter.’

Lucien’s gaze sharpened. Of course, he had heard of this man. Tristan Lord had been the legal eagle, as the papers described him, of the Sicilian mobster Grigori. A brutal man in court, he had been nicknamed the Savage.

Lucien gripped his hand in a firm handshake and was not surprised by the strength in the younger man’s hands.

He was soon in conversation with the Don but he was aware of Tristan Lord watching him curiously.

***

Aiyana

She had already read the message from her old colleague, Bob Church twice, in growing alarm.

Church and she went back a long way. Leaning heavily on him, he had turned to him for help in order to know more about the East European criminal.

She had begged Ben Church to let her know if he could pick up some chatter between the drug lord and his associates which would give them some idea of what he was planning in the future.

*

Now she studied the mail he had forwarded her, her eyes widening in surprise.

The mail established without any doubt that Dmitri Rudenko was planning something to get back at his old rival Lucien Delano in the immediate future.

By removing most of Dmitri’s old associates by using brutal force or simply by eliminating them, the cold, calculating mob boss Delano had cleverly isolated Dmitri Rudenko to a large extent.

That he had succeeded in browbeating the men who used to support Rudenko had not really come as a surprise. He had manipulated those who were weak and cold-bloodedly killed those who had tried to resist. Lucien Delano was a ruthless player.

He had incensed the East European gang lord with his tactics. It had been a very aggressive technique but it had worked.

Lucien Delano had finally succeeded in drawing the old fox out of his lair.

There would be war.

There would also be collateral damage.