Owning the Mafia Don

Lucien

He stepped forward, fists clenched, to prevent himself from grabbing her throat and squeezing the life out of her.

‘Where is Rudenko’s hideout in the desert?’

Bruised and bleeding, broken in spirit, Catalina gave them the address, she knew, of the location of the house where the auction of unfortunate women, children, and sometimes, men, was conducted every three months. This one, she said, was going to be different as she sat, holding a cold compress to her bleeding mouth.

This auction was a special one because of Proserpina.

The wife of a dreaded Mafia Don, kidnapped and sold called at a special, secretive sale. Only a few elite buyers had been informed.

Just those who hated Lucien Delano and wanted to wreak vengeance by torturing his wife.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Only a handful had been physically present. Many others had logged onto the site and would watch the proceedings online before putting in their bids.

She shot Lucien a malevolent look and said,

‘ And I have heard that she has been sold already. An anonymous buyer with very deep pockets.’

Lucien felt as if his world had come crashing around him. The maddened Mafia Don leapt at her, trying to get his hands on her.

Schwartz and Beston, along with a couple of other men, had to restrain him physically, and they panted and struggled with the effort.

Catalina began to wail loudly. Danielle, who had stood stock still on hearing Catalina’s pronouncement, stormed across and cracked her cheek with her fist. The woman sank in a heap to the ground.

Aiyana turned to Danielle in disgust. Danielle glared at her, rubbing her bruised knuckles.

Even as she opened her mouth to snarl at the former FBI woman, Aiyana’s phone rang.

She immediately turned away, shutting out the sounds of Lucien bellowing in madness and rage. She had glimpsed Schwartz, his eyes streaming as he held his friend and mentor, restraining him as best as he could.

Lucien was fulminating, his thunderous voice issuing choice abuses, and Aiyana moved away, wincing.

The call was not one she could afford to ignore.

It was Ben Church.

She listened attentively and then spun around.

***

Lucien was dragging Beston and the men, his physical strength immense as he fought the deep sorrow he was feeling, roaring like a wounded beast, roaring in pain, maddened with grief.

he had let down the only woman who had loved him, the only one he loved…

Aiyana did the only thing she could to grab his attention. She spun around and hurled a hard paperweight at the glass cabinet on the opposite wall.

Everyone turned to stare at her in astonishment.

“You gone mad, you crazy bi*ch?’ screamed Danielle, striding up to her.

Aiyana shouted,

‘Will you just listen to me, already?’

Schwartz cried,

‘Aiy, what is it? Can’t you see…?’

Aiyana had had enough. She climbed onto Lucien’s desk and yelled,

“Proserpina has gone into labour, you f*cking blo*dy idiots! Get over there fast and get her out of that hellhole! ‘

Lucien stopped struggling, and they all stared at her.

Waving her phone at everyone in the room, Aiyana continued, commandingly,

‘They can’t transport her right now since she’s gone into labour. The place is a seven-hour flight from here by chopper.’

Lucien was already activating his men.

“Beston”, he shouted, “Arrange the choppers’

The energy in the room had changed subtly.

Proserpina could not be moved until the children were born, so there was a chance that they would get there before she was shifted. It was a slim chance, but Lucien was grabbing at straws, any straw.

Galvanized into action, Lucien dragged on a shirt and his jacket, taking up his guns and fitting them into the holsters. Schwartz came up to him. He was shoving his gun into his belt as he walked.

” Mate, I am coming with you,’ he stated.

Lucien looked up at him, his gaze searching. He nodded briskly and turned away.

“Boss, I am in too.’ Danielle announced, sticking out her chin, as though she expected him to challenge her.

He glanced at Aiyana, who stood at the door, tapping her trouser clad thigh impatiently with her phone.

“And Aiyana.’ He said it curtly, nodding in her direction.’ We shall take the small aircraft.”

He looked at Beston as he spoke, and the other man nodded his head immediately, preparing to relay the orders. Striding over, he made some last-minute calls and conferred with Beston and Schwartz.

Beston nodded, crisply issuing orders to his men over the walkie-talkie.

Lucien Delano was at the door when his phone rang, and he scowled.

Tristan Lord?

What did he want?

***

Proserpina

I moaned and felt as though my body was being torn. I was exhausted yet I knew my ordeal had only just begun.

‘You need to push!’ said a woman, sounding annoyed.

I shook my head weakly.

I can’t; I wanted to say, I simply cannot.

Days of near starvation and mental exhaustion had taken their toll on me. My body was simply unable to push out my children from my womb.

Let me die here with my children, I thought wretchedly. Better than being sold to some man who would use me as his sex toy. And God knows what would happen to my children!

I knew the tears were leaking out from under my lids tiredly.

If I survived, I vowed to myself, I would never, ever get pregnant again. This had to be the worst delivery I had endured.

Again, a sob tore through my throat as the pain intensified.

A pair of hands stroked my forehead. When I opened my eyes, my pain dulled, and my brain barely made out the people around me. Standing beside me were a man and a woman. The man had the distinctive features of a Native South American, kind and gentle eyes. The woman was older than me and she looked cross and irritated

“You are going to be fine,’ said the man’s voice, and I saw that he was a young man, smiling encouragingly at me.

Fine?’ I thought bitterly, Tell me something I can believe… I bit down on my lip as the next spasm tore me apart, tasting blood and I sobbed out.

“You need to push!’ cried the woman, angrily.

The man’s voice broke in.

“She is dehydrated and half-starved. ‘

He sounded angry, ‘How do you expect her to push.’ And then, as I almost slipped away again into the darkness of unconsciousness, I heard him speaking,

‘She is suffering badly. And not fully stretched too…’

I caught the woman’s words.

‘…not looking good… heavily sedated…’

“Please God, let the children come out quickly.’ I prayed silently in between my pathetic attempts to push the children out.

‘She is very weak,’ said the man disapprovingly,

‘I do not know if she will survive…’

Mercifully, I slipped away into a world of darkness at the same time.