Owning the Mafia Don

Lucien

The days blended into each other, the greyness around them changing to white during the mid-morning, only to become a bleak grey at night.

One morning, a few days later, he caught the old man alone. On seeing him, the old fellow tried to quicken his pace, but Lucien was swifter, and lunging forward from his imprisonment near the bed, he grabbed the man’s neck.

‘How did I get here?’ He snarled, his cold eyes showing his willingness to kill if need be.

Quavering, the thin man sank to the ground. He barely weighed more than a few pounds, thought Lucien. The old crone kept him underfed but Lucien could not feel any pity for him. He gripped the man’s thin hair, tilting his head back forcefully.

‘Speak, ‘he ordered cruelly and kicked the man savagely.

*

Wheezing in pain, the old man gave him a detailed account of how they had found him.

It had snowed lightly the previous night, he said and the river was in spate. Lucien’s body had washed up on the river bank near sundown when the old woman was prowling about in the woods. Looking for prey, thought Lucien, or checking to see if the graves of those she had buried were still intact.

Whatever, she had summoned the old man who called himself Gustav.

They had dragged his body here.

‘Why did you not let me die?’ he said curiously, but he had guessed at the answer already.

‘She wanted her man back.’ said Gustav and spat at the floor in disgust.

“Mad crow.’ he added.

They saw the shadow of the woman approaching, and Gustav leapt to his feet and went about his work.

Ivica did not seem to sense anything different when she entered.

But Lucien was already formulating a plan.

*

Lucien began to move about, chopping wood, and doing things that helped to flex his muscles. On more than one occasion, he felt Ivica’s eyes on his back, studying the way his damp shirt clung to his chest when he had been working. When he felt hot, he shed his shirt and worked bare-chested, aware that the woman was watching his well-sculpted, muscular body hungrily, the way his powerful muscles bunched as he savagely tore at the wood.

He pretended not to notice, but he knew how to use her lust. Lucien Delano had a lot of practice in using women.

When she brushed against him while handing out his plate of food, he made sure to grip her hand tightly, raising his eyes to her face boldly.

He felt sick to the core when he thought of Proserpina as he lay awake at night, listening to the sounds of Ivica and Gustav as they snored from their respective corners of the room.

But Lucien was cold and merciless. He would use whatever he could to free himself.

Except bed her.

*

Proserpina

The next two days were fraught with anxiety. All my children back home had come down with a viral bug. The staff were also infected, all except my friend Rachel and Thadana. They kept me informed and I was relieved when in the evening, Ria answered the phone; I missed her lively, sparkling self sorely.

The worst, Beatrice assured me, was over. The children were recovering, and by night, my littlest ones were also. free of fever.

*

The other matter that made me uneasy, to put it mildly, was the fact that we had not been able to step out of the house.

The blizzard prevented us from leaving the warm house and as Schwartz and Aiyana pointed out, it was foolish to think of searching for Lucien in this weather.

I sighed, buried my face in my hands and let the tears fall when they had left the room.

What could I do?

Phillippe stood beside me, silent but a source of strength.

*

Lucien

She came to him one day when he was bathing. It was under the guise of guarding him for that was when he would have the heavy chain removed from his shins. Lucien had demanded that he be allowed to wash and change and she had agreed, albeit reluctantly. His wounds were healing and he felt stronger and ready to leave. But how?

As he stood in the small stone courtyard, with the large iron pail of hot water that he had got Gustav to heat up, he luxuriated in the feel of the water on his body.

Scrubbing his muscular body with the slim bar of harsh soap, he shut his eyes and wished he was back with Proserpina in the bathroom where he had claimed her soft body on so many occasions. Groaning, his fist closed around his thick, swollen manhood. It had been too long, he thought angrily, longing to hold her, to have her suck him as only she did, pleasuring him fully.

The sound of laboured breathing made him realise that he was not alone.

And he became aware that Gustav had been called away on some work and Ivica was standing in the doorway, and watching him, greedily.

He knew she was drinking in his muscled physique, his actions, the cum that spewed out from his thick manhood as he jerked off.

And he openly stroked his member and turning, he fixed her with his pale grey eyes, making her blush. His thick c*ck was pointing at her, arrogantly and he saw her swallow, the thin neck wobble as she stood, trapped in her desire.

Deliberately, he thought of Proserpina, her softness, her wet sex and the way she moaned under him. His powerful cock sprang up to life as he stroked his erect manhood, the thick, strong legs planted firmly on the ground, his body glistening with the droplets of water, the powerful chest matted with hair.

The woman watched him, open-mouthed and she went beet red. She stumbled away, unable to take in the sight of the man who was unashamedly stroking his large member, pleasuring himself.

*

Proserpina

On the fourth day, we were able to move out. Aiyana had managed to persuade Toth’s men and we drove to the gorge where Lucien and Dmitri had fallen over.

The smell of the water, and the sound of the roaring waters as they gushed miles below us, terrified me. I had always been afraid of heights. This was beyond dreadful. But I braved it all and went up to the edge of the precipice, to stand and stare down,

Philippe stood, a hand firmly wrapped around my arm while Schwartz was on the other side, ready to grab me.

I looked at the waters as they rushed, pitilessly, over the stones, the boulders far below. It made me feel dizzy just looking at it.

‘Let’s go,’ snapped Schwartz firmly after taking one look at my white face and we left. But as I walked, a feeling of unease, of being watched, spread over me. It began as a tingling between my shoulder blades, making me stiffen.

*

Lucien

The old man came to the door, a crafty grin on his face.

“I know what you are playing at.’ he chanted in sing-song Slavic.

In one movement, Lucien had crossed to the bathroom door, naked and strong, to effortlessly lift the man up a few feet, one hand fastened around the man’s scrawny neck.

“Shut the f*ck up,’ he growled. ‘You value your life, then shut up or I will snap your neck.’

The old man’s eyes widened in terror and he gave a squeak. Lucien let him fall to the ground in a heap. After that, the man watched sullenly but never tried to challenge him.

*

Proserpina

I glanced back. Had I seen a movement among the trees? I asked myself, my face whitening.

‘Madre?’ asked Philippe softly

But only the howling of the wind filled the air and I shook my head, wanting to be away from the place as soon as possible.

*

The OthersThis belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

The man stood watching them. Damn the woman. Had she seen him? he thought savagely. He waited till they had left to return to the room where young Dusak waited impatiently.

‘Uncle,’ asked the youth immediately.

“They are searching.’ said the man shortly, moving to peer out through the curtains at the world below. The snow fell in soft flakes but he was oblivious to the beauty of the scene.

All he could think of, rage in his heart, was that Lucien Delano might be alive. The chances were slim,

But the possibility was there.

Dusak sank onto the bed, his face a mask of malevolence.

“We must get rid of them, then.’ he said.

But the older man shook his head.

“If Delano is alive, they will lead us to him, my son.’ And as the young man spun around to stare, he went on complacently,

‘Let us wait and watch.’