Owning the Mafia Don

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They had been following the career of the elusive Father Paval.

And had been shocked to discover the layers of deceit beneath which the so-called man of the cloth was hiding. The first reference to him was found in a police document stating that as a teen, he had been booked for raping and killing a minor. One murder had been discovered but he had admitted to committing similar actions before.

Sent to a juvenile home, the delinquent had come out saying he was reformed, enlightened, and had managed to join a church group. Silence persisted about his whereabouts on the surface but Lucien had made his associates dig into the past.

They had come up with astounding disclosures.

Paval had been on the verge of being thrown out of the Church twice on complaints of sexual harassment and molestation. But on both occasions, he had obviously bribed or threatened his way back. And had slowly risen to the position of a priest, albeit stationed at a remote location.

*

It was obvious that the man had been operating as Dmitri’s source in Europe for quite a long while now. As Lucien reached out to touch base with his various contacts scattered around Europe, he discovered how deep the net of human trafficking was. It shocked and disgusted him. Young children, men and women of all ages, are being lured and ensnared, to never walk free again from a life of hell.

Lucien St. Claire rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly, aware that his wound was aching.

Being the father of half a dozen young children had sensitised him to a large extent, he thought wearily as he sipped from the whiskey tumbler that had appeared at his elbow. Beston hovered around as did the guards of the men he had invited to his house for such a sudden, high-profile meeting. As one of the men observed grimly, now they had to contend with a new player as well: Dmitri Rudenko’s nephew, the one-eyed Dusak. Not a single man in the room had any doubts regarding the fact that the youth would who would no doubt take after his obnoxious uncle.

And the worst part was that under the guise of being a stalwart pillar of the Church in the tiny village of Kosice, the monk had been the main point of contact between the East Europe countries and the US for his half-brother’s nefarious activities.

*

Proserpina

I had decided to prepare Chicken and Tender stem Casserole with Herby Cheddar Dumplings, a recipe I had tried once before and it had been one which left my family salivating. Lucien had pulled me onto his lap after dinner and had growled at me in mock anger as he said that I should never prepare it again for he had eaten way too much. The twins had shoved their mouths with so much food that night, I had finally had to chase them out!

*

Rachel had stared at me in growing horror when I told her of my plans.

She swore that it would take too much time to prepare.

‘Kid, how are you going to prepare ALL that for so many guests, huh?’ she asked in bewilderment, running her hands through her short, fair hair. But I dimpled at her knowingly.

The trick, I had discovered was to prepare the dumplings after the casserole was in the oven. It helped to save time. Besides, I also wanted to make something special for Rachel who was a vegetarian. Knowing how she had enjoyed the vegetarian pot pie I had dished up for her a while ago, I set about making it after she had left to pick up Lam Ghiang.

The Chestnut soup I wanted to bring it at the very start was already half done when I turned to the dessert.

I had opted to make Affogato, made with hot espresso poured over vanilla ice-cream which was an all-time favourite and barely required any time. I usually topped it up with whatever I felt like, chocolate shavings and sprinkles today. But being the daring chef I was, I had also chosen to make the classic apple tarte tatin, with gin and juniper, for the adults. As Lucien had remarked mockingly, the only time I broke my rule and had anything alcoholic was at times like this. The dessert took me almost half an hour to prepare just so but I felt pleased with the outcome.

The army of kids led by my twins trailed into the kitchen after a while, settling around the large shining table, trying to get their hands on whatever they could. I chased them out with bowls of ice cream and Melissa offered to keep them engaged, which made me smile in relief.

And then I went in search of my lover, my husband.

*

Lucien

He had been unaware of the passage of time. The room was now full of the men he knew he could use for this purpose. Plates of sandwiches were brought in occasionally and vanished in a few minutes. Drinks were downed and men sat, discussing and thrashing out strategies to corner the Rudenkos once and for all.

the sudden sound of a soft knock on the door, followed by the door opening gently made him look up, with a coarse oath.

The sight of his petite wife in her flowing flowery skirt, red and yellow, adding brightness to his sombre room, made him sit up. Her heavy hips swung as she entered in that siren way of hers, swaying slightly, alerting Schwartz to her presence like a dog sensing its mistress, he thought sourly. Handsome James turned immediately, and his face split into a wide grin.

Damn her, thought the Mafia Boss savagely.

What the f*ck was his Woman doing here?

*

She knew very well that she was not supposed to come here. , he had strictly forbidden her from coming to his study when he was in a meeting.

The mood in the room seemed to alter imperceptibly.

All at once, Proserpina Delano was the centre of attraction of every man in the room, he thought, his gut tightening in fury. She had an innocent raw sensuality that seemed to be sending signals to every full-blooded male in the room.

Jurgen Meyer, his contact from Germany, who had come in response to his summons, was gawking at her open-mouthed while Elonzo Moreno, his Columbian associate watched her, his bright gaze fixed on her curvaceous body.

Today she was wearing a simple cotton blouse that clung to her full, thrusting breasts and it made him harden, just thinking of how he had not had her for so long. Last night had been too explosive and sudden. Lucien knew he wanted to take his time, enjoy her luscious body, young and ripe as it was, and make her beg for mercy.

The knowledge that the other men in the room were also looking at her, lusting after her, although they were too afraid of him to show it openly annoyed him further. It was something about her, an unconscious sensuality about her that made men turn to look, to observe her with such open desire.

But she is Mine, glowered Lucien and his anger made him scowl at her.

To Proserpina’s credit, she did not bat an eyelid.

She merely dimpled at him and then turned away to smile warmly at Schwartz as she moved closer to him and whispered something, causing the handsome man to throw back his head and laugh. She touched the younger man’s sleeve jacket lightly; just a small caress but Lucien clenched his fists in jealousy.

Almost as though his woman knew he was watching her, unblinkingly, narrow-eyed, she shot Lucien a teasing look from beneath her lashes, dimpling coquettishly and he rumbled low in his chest.

Saucy.

He clenched his fists, wanting nothing more than to pound his manhood into her wet, warm sex and make her cry for mercy…

*

Proserpina

When I knocked gently and entered, I found Lucien at the desk, scowling. His shirt was open to the waist and I could make out a smudge of crimson on the bandage around his hirsute, wide chest.

He glared at me in ill-disguised fury as Schwartz swivelled around to beam at me. Lucien St. Claire hated to be interrupted during his work. Only Ria could get away with doing it and leave the room unscathed. A few other men were in the room with them, men in dark suits and cold eyes, men whose cigar smoke hung in the air, with the strong sharp smell of alcohol pervading the atmosphere.

I was specifically barred from going into the study when he was at work.

Earlier, I would never have dared to approach his study when he was in a meeting with his colleagues and partners. But time and the fact that he had fathered my six children had given me a certain degree of brashness.

Some of the men in the room turned to look at me, annoyed at having been interrupted by a mere woman.

Lucien sent me a blistering look. He hated it if the men with him looked my way; it enraged him to see them with their eyes lingering on my body.

Yet, I was determined not to quail under the force of his look.

Bravely, standing in the doorway, I smiled and said softly,

‘Good evening, gentlemen. Sorry to interrupt you but I need to help my husband change the dressing on his wound.’

The men exchanged glances and stood up, shuffling. Lucien regarded me menacingly and Schwartz sighed.

‘I think I could do with a break, Boss.’ he said easily and with a wink at me, shepherded the other men out of the room. At the door, he said softly,

‘What’s cooking, hen? Something smells really good.’ I punched his arm playfully and said, ‘You’ll find out soon enough, Mister.’

He laughed and left.

*

Lucien sat in his leather chair, exuding an unmistakably dangerous, dominant macho male aura as the others filed out quietly after nodding their heads and making their muted goodbyes. I watched them go, too keyed up to turn to meet my husband’s eyes. I knew he would exact punishment from me for daring to breach his bastion while he was deep in his work.

Soon I heard their assorted cars roaring away as they sped into the gathering dusk and I turned.

*

The lights in the room had been turned low except for the ones blazing around Lucien’s desk. I shut the door softly and leaned against it, my breath coming faster. Lucien was watching me steadily, narrow-eyed, his head leaning back against the plush brown leather headrest. Even after all these years, feeling his eyes devouring me never failed to awaken the familiar sensations of fluttering and anticipation in my belly.

I could almost feel my panties getting wet.

Lucien’s gravelly baritone broke the silence.

‘You know you are not allowed to sashay in here and disturb me at work, don’t you, my little slave?’ he growled in a low voice.

I shook my head, biting my lip. “No, Lucien.’ I said softly,’ I am sorry but…’

“Take your punishment then, little woman. ‘he went on in a dangerously soft tone., And then, after a tiny pause, he ordered gruffly, his voice dangerously soft,

‘ Get over here, woman and sit on my c*ck.’ and I felt my nipples harden at the vulgar command that I knew I would obey. I hesitated and he went on, in a harder voice.

“Get the f*ck here, this minute woman. I am going to f*ck the sh*t out of you. NOW. ‘