Owning the Mafia Don

Lucien

He was out of his car and running almost before the vehicle had slid to a stop.

The sight that met his eyes made him holler in rage and frustration. He was still far away from the inner gate that led to his home.

His men had bounded up behind him and stood, panting and sweating. Staring

The outer gate of his mansion was gone. He could make out the smouldering ruin of what had been a vehicle

The smell of burning rubber and flesh…

***

Proserpina

We had fallen onto the ground, all three of us, Beston, Paddy and I. I cried out in pain. My body was still recovering from all the suffering I had endured but we were a distance away.

We were alive; we were safe.

Shrapnel had flown any which way in the air and landed around us, striking us too as we were the closest. I had shielded Paddy with my body and I was aware of Beston groaning. He had a deep cut on his arm and I felt something warm and wet on my cheek. Looking down at Paddy who was shivering so hard, I feared for him, I cuddled him in my arms, crooning,

“Paddy, my love, my dearest child…”NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

He sobbed into my ample bosom,

“I love you, Mumma.”

A pair of shoes came into the periphery of my vision and I raised my eyes even as Beston clambered to his feet, clutching his arm which was twisted at an odd angle.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” he said hoarsely, effusively, addressing the woman who stood there, smoke on her face but otherwise as cool and restrained as ever.

Aiyana.

She had saved us, and I raised my hand to clasp hers, my mouth trembling. “Thank you,” I whispered as I sat on the grass, the tears flowing as she squeezed my hand.

I was still shaking with the reaction, but she came down on her haunches and studied my face, critically.

Beatrice had rushed out, almost falling in her haste as she flung her arms around me. My twins, Camille, and everyone seemed to be there. And then I saw, over Bea’s shoulder, my lover.

He was rushing to us, a tortured expression on his face, surrounded by his bodyguards.

Thrusting everyone away roughly, he almost threw Paddy off me as he yanked me to my feet and held me in his arms. His shirt was damp and he stood holding me, his face buried in my hair as I clung to him wordlessly.

“I thought I had lost you, woman.” he ground out hoarsely, his hands gripping my upper arms with ferocity as he shook me hard. I smiled through my tears.

Beston’s voice broke in,

“Boss, the lady here, she saved us.”

***

Aiyana

Earlier

She had been driving along, listening to country music on her car radio when a message landed on her phone.

Frowning, she glanced at the instrument that lay on the seat beside her.

It was a voice message from her old colleague, Ben Church.

“Something’s come up, Aiy.” He sounded worried.

“Our man on the ground has had news that Dmitri’s man, Yaroslav, has surfaced in Hollowford. Word is he’s got explosives. And he met with that woman Sophia…”

She did not stop to listen to the rest of the message. Tossing the phone down, she shot down the road, her instincts screaming that it could only mean trouble.

Sophia had struck her as a dangerously imbalanced woman who had become embittered and vindictive. Dmitri Rudenko must have heard that Lucien Delano was coming after him; he had decided to destroy the man’s family and what better way than to blow up his family in their home, using a misguided, half-crazed woman as his suicide bomber?

She had high-tailed it to the estate and reached in a few minutes. The sounds of women screaming had alerted her and she had crossed along the woods, parking her car at the side.

She stopped as she reached a knoll on the grounds facing the first, impressive gate that led to the huge house in the distance.

Sophia was there, her little car parked beside her. Aiyana’s heart missed a beat. The woman appeared bulkier than usual and her worst suspicions were confirmed.

How had Beston not noticed? she thought furiously, her heart pounding.

She dropped to the ground and aimed her gun at the woman. Hidden by the dense undergrowth, she was not noticeable, particularly since everyone was focused on the scene unfolding below. Beston’s men were standing far away, unable to raise and fire their weapons for fear of setting off an explosion. Coolly, Aiyana observed that they were all keeping a safe distance from the red-headed woman who was waving her arms in agitation.

Sophia’s high shrill voice carried to Aiyana,

“Because YOU have it All. And you don’t deserve Sh*t!”

In growing alarm, she realised that Proserpina was outside with her, facing Sophia, while the Head of Security, Beston, was doing his best to drag her away. The women were facing each other.

She could not see Sophia’s face; the half-crazed woman was facing away from her but the look on Proserpina’s beautiful face, lacerated and weary, was enough to tell Aiyana all she wanted to know.

She had the look of a person who was facing certain death.

Clinging to her skirts was the shuddering figure of Sophia’s nephew, the autistic child whom Proserpina adored. He was always hovering around her, his devotion to the kind woman obvious to everyone.

Sophia raised her hand and made to run ahead.

Aiyana swore. The device that would trigger the explosion!

If she ran to the gate, the explosion would destroy the people who were still in her orbit.

But if she was brought down before she took another step forward, the damage could be contained.

Without hesitation, she cocked her gun, judging the distance and the angle coolly, clinically, before she took aim and fired.

The loud report of her gun broke the silence and then, Sophia’s bomb went off.

***

Later, they realised that the damage had been minimal because everyone had already moved away from the perimeter of the woman who had stood there, waving her arms and screaming.

Sophia’s body was not recovered.

It had been destroyed by the force of the bomb.

***

Lucien was furious. He raged at his family, and at his staff and ripped through Beston.

But his fiercest anger seemed to be trained on Proserpina.

She stood in his study, shivering in fear as he roared at Beston,

“Why the f*ck did you allow this idiot woman to get to the gate?” he bellowed.

Beston stood, staring at the ground. His arm was in a sling and he had cuts on his face where the flying shrapnel had caught him.

A few of his men had also been injured but Lucien had been kept busy all day, dealing with the police who had been alerted. He had had to pull strings to get the police out of the way.

Proserpina also had a cut along her cheek but it had been a minor one. Poor hysterical Paddy had been given a sedative.

Proserpina looked dishevelled, her long hair messy, her skirts dirty and rumpled. She stood near the wall, trying not to wring her hands.

“Lucien…” she began hesitantly but he rounded on her, his expression livid with rage.

“SHUT THE F*CK UP, YOU BRAINLESS C*NT!” he roared and she stepped back, her eyes filling.

He crossed over to her and grabbing her upper arms, he sank his hands into them, snarling, as he shook her hard,

“WHY THE F*CK DID YOU HAVE TO PLAY F*CKING MS. CONGENIALITY AND GO TO MEET THAT BLO*DY B*TCH?”

He shook her again, his hands going to her throat and she looked at him in shock as he ground out the words,

“Have you no sense in your stupid head, eh? I should just strangle you, you brainless c*nt.”

Seeing her terrified expression his rage seemed to intensify manifold.

He shouted.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, YOU ****.”

Saying that, flung her away violently.

Proserpina had never heard him use such a crude expletive before, certainly not when he spoke to her, ABOUT her.

She lost her balance and almost fell to the floor, hitting her hip against the armchair. With a sob, she rushed out of the room. Beston turned to look at Lucien, who turned away, his shoulders heaving, with his anger.

The door slammed shut as she disappeared.

As Beston opened his mouth and began to speak, Lucien raised a large, commanding hand.

“Shut the f*ck up, Beston,” he growled. “That woman is my wife.”

And my Life, he thought furiously.