Owning the Mafia Don

Proserpina

I must have been drugged again. Woozily, I opened my eyes.

Two women had materialised before me. They hauled me to my feet and made me move forward.

I felt myself being led, on unsteady feet, through a corridor. On either side of the richly carpeted aisle, were pictures again. But these were photographs, splashed in black and white. Not so explicit ones of men and women in various poses, making love. If such hideous acts could be called making love, I thought caustically, closing my eyes momentarily to look away from the scenes of blatant BDSM that made my stomach churn.

I stumbled, and the women gripping my arms, guiding me along, exchanged ribald comments, snorting in laughter. I could not understand all the words, but the theme of their conversation was clear. I would also be forced to do these things…

I doubled over, sick and distraught. They forced me up, their pointed nails digging into my arm.

Lucien had been a fierce lover, an Alpha who tolerated no resistance in bed. He plundered my body, and I submitted to him willingly. It had been like that from the start.

He was a Dominant male, I was an eager submissive.

And when we were in bed, he made me aware of yearnings that I had never known existed in me.

Our bodies shared a chemistry that was something old and uncontrollable. No matter how angry I was with him, no matter how furious he was with me, one touch from his large calloused hands and I was like putty. When his mouth descended on mine, seeking, I gave in to my desires and melted.

But we had never descended to this frightful travesty of lovemaking, ever.

This was not love making in any sense of the word; it was something sick and disgusting.

We seemed to have been walking for hours. The long, dimly lit corridor stretched on. At the end there was a light and an open door. Xenia appeared at the end of the corridor. She looked tense and uncertain. Her eyes skimmed over me, satisfied.

Then she snapped at the two women who were holding my arms,

“Hurry up, bi*ches! The guests are waiting.’

***

Lucien

Lucien shook his head. They had been looking at the various villages and towns scattered in and around the deserts in Columbia. These places were too close to civilization. Dmitri would never set up his infamous warehouses and torture chambers, his holding cells for trafficked women or any prisoner, close to the city.

There must be another place. An idea was forming in his head.

“Did you say desert?’ he barked.

Tristan checked his recording.

‘I just have him saying something about deserts, And yes, souls. He mentioned souls.’

Schwartz, who had been rubbing his knuckles across his eyes, raised his exhausted-looking blonde head enthusiastically from where he was swiping on his tablet and handling a call to someone, all at the same time.

Gustav had been entering and leaving, refreshing the canisters of coffee in the room discreetly.

‘The Candelaria Desert.’ He cried, excitement threading his voice. ‘ That must be the place, mate. It is also called the Desert of Souls.’

***

Proserpina

Oleg was there all of a sudden and I felt myself tremble. In a black vest, his tattooed arms and bulging muscles appeared more petrifying. He stepped forward and said in a rasping, guttural voice,

“I will take the wh*re from here.’.

I tried to struggle but it was futile. Like a puny bird trapped in the hands of a large, cruel man, I thought randomly.

Dazedly, as though in a dream, I saw the room I was entering. A large one, designed like the waiting room at a clinic. And there were women like me. Young women, older women, all with beaten looks on their faces despite being dressed in the skimpiest, gaudiest, of dresses.

Oleg thrust me onto a chair and turned away. I could not rise; my legs refuse to obey the frantic, desperate signals of my brain. I became aware of the woman beside me, a green-eyed girl, little more than a teenager. She held my arm as I felt myself slipping down.

‘You are with child.’ She whispered and I nodded slowly. I could not reply. My tongue was thick in my mouth. I felt a buzzing in my ears. I could not stand and flee for the simple reason that my body refused to follow my commands.

The look of pity on her face made me want to scream. But then, Oleg wrenched her hand away and she was shifted to another chair across the room by a handler.

Some of the women in the room glanced at me but for the most part, they stared at the floor too dulled by their own suffering, knowing that freedom was a myth not destined for them.

***

Lucien

He had heard of the Candelaria Desert, the rocky, cold and deserted badlands, the wastelands of yore. Today, it was largely known for tourism, as a spiritual retreat.

But in the hilly, rocky moorland which was cold and empty at the night, away from the towns, where the legends of the ancient people abounded, he knew it would be possible to set up a small settlement, where no one would dare to venture.

If you had the money and muscle-power for it, it was possible.NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

And Dmitri had both.

And possibly, since it was at a strategic place, between the US and Mexico, and the other large South American countries nearby, it would make a suitable place for such criminal activities to be carried out.

Known as a spiritual retreat, the fringe areas of the desert, which were largely uninhabited, would be ideal for any kind of activity that could be conducted unbeknown to society…

***

Proserpina

I do not know how long I was there. My drug dulled brain refused to function. I sat, leaning against the wall, my hands protectively cupping my swollen belly. There was only the unobtrusive hum of the air conditioner in the background and muted conversation among the guards. The unborn children in my stomach had been relatively quiet, I thought, tiredly.

The women were taken out of the room by their escorts, burly men and women in scantly clothing. I watched them as though I was seeing them from a distant place, observing the looks of resignation, of horror as they disappeared behind the large green door at the end of the room. Xenia moved around, issuing commands in her rough way, snapping at people, abusing loudly if anyone failed to meet her demands.

Finally, I was the only one left.

I had been made to drink more juice and I had accepted it. I was hungry and drained. Placing a hand on my stomach protectively, I watched the proceedings.

When Xenia stepped toward me and gripped my arm, I looked up at her, mutely begging her not to do this.

Refusing to meet my eyes, she snapped,

“Stand up. Or you will be punished for disobedience publicly.’

I struggled to rise and the women with her hauled me up.

I shuffled to the door slowly, unable to move quickly. Leaning on their arms, I dragged my heavy feet.

I could sense Xenia’s impatience but one part of my brain was screaming at me,

“RUN! RUN! RUN!’

All I could manage was an ungainly, awkward stagger.

Then, I was beyond the door, in a dark space and I knew I was on a stage.

Although the air was cold, I was sweating in an escalating panic. What was about to happen to me?

***

Lucien

Beston called him just as Lucien roared, “The Candelaria Desert. Find anyone who knows about the areas there.’

Aiyana nodded tersely, and Schwartz, pushing his blonde hair off his forehead, bent to his work.

The Don felt a feverish excitement. They were getting close.

She would be saved soon.

Beston was speaking to him and his words sank in.

‘Boss, the kids…’

He turned. Ria stood in the doorway, her blue-grey eyes large and round as she took in the screen mounted on the wall.

He moved swiftly heading to the door. He did not want his children alarmed and upset. The poor mites were already very stressed, as Schwartz kept murmuring.

‘Pappa, …’ she whispered.

He lifted her in his arms, meeting Schwartz’s eyes and shut the door behind him. His friend nodded in understanding; he would take care of things till Lucien had pacified the child.

‘What is it, poppet?’ he growled, tenderly.

“I dreamt of Mumma…’ said the little girl, burying her face in his neck, crying softly.

He sank onto an armchair in the corridor and sighed.