Owning the Mafia Don

Aiyana

She watched him furtively from under her lashes as she sipped her drink. He was undoubtedly attractive, and the raw grief she had glimpsed in him that night years ago was nowhere to be seen.

She had done some work, finding out about him before he had arrived at her room that evening. That was when she had discovered that he was the Underboss of the gang, working under Lucien Delano.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

Interestingly, she had also found out that the ruthless, almost heartless man who had run the mob with an iron hand, was now married and had three children. She had seen pictures of him with his wife, a younger woman, definitely twenty years younger, curvaceous and alluring-looking with smoky brown eyes and a figure that would make any man lust after her. She was sexy but seemed to have eyes only for the burly, grim-faced older man with her.

To her amazement, her source had informed her that Delano was now deeply faithful to his wife, besotted being the word her source had used.

Rumour had it that the Boss could barely keep his hands off his lovely young wife.

Her eyes travelled over Schwartz again.

He would be an interesting bed companion, she mused, watching him over the top of her glass. and was taken by surprise when he turned to look at her.

His green eyes flecked with gold flared for an instant, and she knew he was thinking the same thing.

“Shall we leave then?’ she asked, her husky voice catching in her throat as she felt her breath coming faster.

After aeons, she was feeling excited at the thought of having a man in her arms.

***

The journey to her hotel was conducted in silence.

She sat in a corner of the sedan, refusing to look at him. Schwartz was on the phone, organising the delivery of a thousand red roses to the Delano household.

After having listened for a while, she looked around at him curiously, and he grinned boyishly.

‘Boss wants it for his wife.’ he said and smiled again, a lopsided grin that made him look adorable.

She frowned in distaste and he went on with an amicable chuckle,

“When Lucien Delano wants something for his wife, we jump to obey him.’

Aiyana’s brows rose.

“Is his wife a tyrant type, then?’ she asked in some derision.

Schwartz looked shocked,

“Oh, no!’ he said vehemently and she was piqued. He had sounded very protective indeed of the mysterious Mrs Delano.

“Proserpina is one of the sweetest and the kindest women I have ever seen.’ He smiled, lost in his thoughts and Aiyana looked at his expression; his face had grown tender.

“She has changed the Boss; made him a better man; she and those brats.’

He chuckled reminiscently but the obvious affection when he mentioned them made her watch his handsome face curiously.

Aiyana was intrigued.

“Do you know them so well?’ she asked. From her FBI days, she knew that Mafia dons tended to keep their women under wraps.

Schwartz smiled whimsically.

“I practically live there. She is an amazing cook.’ He chuckled.

And then, “Proserpina …is…’ he sighed and changed the subject.

‘Your hotel is ahead.’

His eyes locked with hers and she felt her breath come faster.

Suddenly she thought she could hear her husband saying softly,

“Honey, you only live once.’

She shut her eyes and then opened them, her black eyes glowing. She was going to plunge into this.

Reaching out, she touched his firm wrist lightly.

“Stay the night with me, James.’

He met her gaze solemnly. He had never met a woman like her, someone who had the courage to speak her mind so fearlessly.

He grunted and picked up the car intercom. He gave his orders and then they were at the hotel, alighting.

The car glided away as they entered, not touching but their bodies on fire for each other.

***

Lucien

Argentina was warm and welcoming and he met his old acquaintance, Isandro. He had flown down particularly because of some alarming news he had received.

Old Isandro was handing over his power to his sons and Lucien needed to know that they would continue the same business deals as before.

Now the elegant old man, wizened with age and with his head of thinning white hair, studied Lucien Delano meditatively.

‘I hear you are going to be a father again.’ He said conversationally.

Lucien glanced at him sharply.

He grunted.

He did not like to talk of his family with any of his business associates.

The old man studied him for a long moment and said,

“Don Dmitri Rudenko has been talking to my sons. He wants to do business with us. Manque is thinking of offering him a deal.’

Lucien felt his temper rise but he kept his expression impassive. He had never liked the old man’s eldest son, Manque who was into white traf******g.

“I shall offer more.’ He said smoothly. The old man nodded sagely and soon they were talking business.

It was late at night, past midnight when they wound up their talks.

Lucien had bulldozed Isandro to agree to his terms and the old man had agreed although his son had not been too happy about it.

Manque with his gold tooth smiled craftily at Lucien as he rose and prepared to head to bed in the palatial mansion that the old Isandro reserved for his important guests.

“Shall I send up a couple of the girls who serviced you last time?’ he asked slyly,’ I remember that Almara and Pire had made you happy, you kept using them all night long.’

The men chuckled coarsely as Manque turned to the others and said.

‘The girls could not walk for three days. The Don used them so thoroughly throughout the night, Rode them lustily, like mares.’

Everyone laughed lustily but stopped when they saw the cold expression on Lucien’s face.

“I shall leave in the morning.’ He said crisply, ‘I want to rest alone.’

As he left the room, he heard a ribald comment made by Isandro’s son but he kept walking. He knew he would not be entertained after the old man had died.

***

Proserpina

By mid-morning, I knew I needed a doctor to check me and confirm my fears. I decided to call the man who had seen me when I was carrying Claude. I felt drained…