Owning the Mafia Don

Proserpina

I stared at the woman who was entering. She had the kind of figure we saw on celebrities, elaborately sculpted by trained physicians. Her breasts were like large melons, and the lower part of her body was rounded in an absurdly unreal way. As she approached us, I saw the look of pure malevolence that flashed across her face as she looked at me. Her eyes slid to Lucien and the expression altered,

Lust. Desire…you name it. In that instant, I knew I had an enemy, an enemy who would not hesitate to wipe away my very existence from the face of the earth. She wanted Lucien and she would do anything to achieve her goal.

I looked up at my husband, fearfully. The woman was glamorous. I was like a gauche girl beside this creature who was weeping in with four young men fawning over her. Lucien was scowling, displeasure on his face. He seemed to sense my uncertainty, for he looked down at me, eyes narrowing. His eyes travelled over my hesitant features and my parted lips.

‘If you keep looking at me like that, woman,’ he said thickly, ‘I shall drag you away and f*ck the sh*t out of you again.’

I smiled.

***

Sophie

Catalina entered in what can only be called a boob tube. Black and strapless, the dress pressed her enormous chest and I wondered how she was managing to breathe in that tiny outfit. It was obviously meant to entice the Boss, I thought grimly and wondered fleetingly what would happened if I were to stroll past and accidentally knock the contents of my tray over her clothes.

Knowing the woman, I thought drily, she would probably peel off her outfit and parade herself in her underwear. If she used such mundane things like the rest of us, I thought drily.

My gaze shifted to Proserpina and the Boss. She looked ethereal in the one shoulder gown. It was modest but made her look so innocent and fresh, every man in the room kept looking at her furtively. The woman had an earthy beauty and her gentleness shone through. What set her apart was just that, her genuineness. And of course, her voluptuous body which was God’s gift to her, not the result of an expensive series of surgeries.

The dangerous looking, glowering man with the rapidly darkening bruise on his face and the stitches as well, kept her firmly by his side, an arm holding her to his body. Openly announcing to the world that she was his.

“Damn, I thought, ‘That is love.’

And my eyes involuntarily skittered over to Handsome James who was standing guard beside Proserpina, his face showing his obvious annoyance on Catalina’s flamboyant entry.

I knew I liked him.

Alright, I more than liked him! When I was alone, I often recalled the kiss I had shared with him, I respected him for his innate decency and loyalty.

But my thoughts were interrupted by a particularly grating voice at my elbow.

“Are you going to gawp at them all night, Red?’

I whirled round, almost spilling the drinks on my tray.

Paul Worthington stood beside me, an ugly look on his face.

He gripped my elbow, making a pretence of helping me but his fingers dug into my flesh.

“You informed your sister, didn’t you?’ he said, his voice low and threatening. And went on, conversationally,

“Too bad. We still got her.’

I almost dropped the tray, my head spinning in shock.

“I …I do not believe you.’ I snapped bravely.

He chuckled and pulled out a flashy-looking phone. Swiping through some videos, he showed me a picture of Sondra. She was trussed up and had a large bruise on her cheek. Her eyes were closed.

“No, I hissed, “No. please, do not hurt her…I …I will…’

He sneered and tapped my cheek with one of his fat fingers, coming close.

“I shall take up that offer.’ He said pleasantly, smiling as though he had made a joke.

Pushing me away roughly, he moved in front of me and walked forward .

To watch the scene when Catalina greeted Lucien Delano

***

Her eyes narrowed as she swept the room, taking in the admiring, lustful gazes of the men in the banquet hall, the women staring at her jealously. That blonde-haired b*tch, Danielle and her dark-skinned girlfriend were observing her in open dislike. Catalina blew them a kiss and laughed out loud as the women turned away in disgust.

Danielle Eton turned away, murmuring something abusive under her breath.

The young man on her right, Scott-something, was rubbing his hand on her ass and she shivered in delight. He was a young stud and had been pleasuring her for a while.

In fact, ever since Lucien had rushed off the stage in pursuit of his wife.

She had been furious at Lucien’s dumping her publicly. But the young man and his companions had made up for her disappointment.

Okay, to a certain extent.

But they could not replace the horniness she felt when she saw Lucien. He was, she thought bitterly, the only man she had wanted, really desired. She had used her body to get to the top, had been abused and allowed herself to be abused in the process; she had f*cked and been f*cked by more men than she could keep track of. Yes, she had achieved fame and money, but at a very high cost, she thought bleakly.

But Lucien Delano had been the only one she had desired.

It had been he who had brought her pleasure when they were young. He had taken her to the heights that no other man had been able to achieve. Yes, Delano was a great lover. And he was also supremely uncaring, callous.

He had used her, she had let him use her in any which way he wanted. Submitted to him gladly.

His dominant nature had made him more attractive. His total disregard for his lover’s feelings as he satisfied himself made her beg for more.

Yes, thought Catalina licking her lips like a large cat as she spotted him, she wanted him. She needed him

He was HERS.

But then she faltered. She saw the protective, possessive way Lucien Delano was standing, glowering at her, his arm around the waist of the young, terribly young woman who stood beside him.

It was the look of the Alpha Male who had met his Mate.

The look of a man who would never let her go. A man who would fight to keep his woman safe.

And at that moment, Catalina knew that Lucien Delano would never be hers.

He was completely smitten by the woman who was standing, turned to him, her body pressed to him, a hand on his dinner jacket, the woman who seemed to be declaring that SHE owned him.

Catalina stumbled and the men with her, boys really, immediately held her up, concerned, their hands sliding all over her body.

“Aww…I’m fine.’ She hissed but the smile slid off her face for a second as she met the soft brown eyes of the young woman who was Mrs F*cking Delano.

‘Well, lover! How’s my Big Boy?’ she exclaimed as she stepped up to Lucien, making to kiss him wetly as she had always done, a hand sneaking out to grope his crotch.

But he moved away slightly and to her mortification, Catalina ended up kissing the air, her lips in a perfect pout.

A snigger made her slash her eyes to the side. The red-haired young woman she had noticed earlier was standing close by, grinning at her openly. She had a tray in her hands and her uniform marked her as a server. But she brashly continued to stand and smile wickedly. The woman did not bother to wipe off her smile even when Catalina glared daggers at her.

“Nice to see you, Catalina.’ Growled Lucien in his deep timbre, a tone that had brought her to her knees, supplicant and begging to be used, on many occasions in the past.

But his look now was brusque, cold as his glance flickered over her, dismissing her.

A look that seemed to say, just go away.

That scene in the room before he left to go to his wife, she realised that he had been using her and a slow rage began to build in her. She had been recalled into his life because Lucien Delano had had a plan.

Not because he wanted her or even desired her remotely.

Rage shot through her.

She would not let him get away with that.

She turned to the young woman who was observing her solemnly.

“And this little girl! Why Lucien, darling,’ she purred, “Don’t tell me! Is SHE your …wife?’ she queried, tittering in fake amusement.

The woman was pretty, her brown eyes glowed, her skin was flawless. Catalina envied her horribly for her youth, for her curvaceous body which was not artificial.

‘I am Proserpina.’ said the woman, a small dimple appearing in her cheek as she smiled faintly.

‘And you must be …Dana? Catalina?’

The slight hesitation seemed to suggest that Catalina was too insignificant to be worth remembering. The older woman felt her face tighten in irritation.

There was no fear, no hesitation in her approach. She was studying Catalina as one would look at an object in the museum. That only infuriated Catalina further.

It was a strange experience and Catalina was taken aback. This woman had confidence and youth on her side. A peculiar sensuousness that made every man look at her, greedily. Catalina had had to struggle to get men to notice her, had had to demean herself to get their attention. She had forgotten the number of surgeries she had undergone to enhance her breasts, her lips, to remove the wrinkles…But this creature standing before her had achieved it effortlessly.

There was a prominent red mark visible on the mound of her breast, that contrasted with her pale skin and Catalina stared at it invidiously.

It made Catalina furious.

Lucien Delano was looking at his wife indulgently, with an expression of such adoration and hunger that Catalina unconsciously squeezed her nails into her escort’s wrist. In all the years that they had been lovers, Lucien had never looked at Catalina in that way. She had done everything he had asked her to do, but he had never cared for her.

Not in this way.

Never in this way.

The young man with her gave a small grunt of surprise as her nails dug into his flesh. Clutching him possessively, leaning into his embrace, her hand moving to his crotch, she said, dismissively,

“Uh…you must be just out of school or something.’ She giggled derisively.

Her intention had been to faze the young woman, to make her feel unsettled, too young to satisfy the man beside her…

But to her fury, the woman’s smile widened and she looked almost amused, her radiant face glowing as she looked up at Lucien. Gently, she stroked his cheek and said, almost as though she was alone in the room with her man,

‘I met Lucien when I was eighteen. He swept me off my feet. And has not stopped doing it since…’

Then, standing on tiptoe, she kissed her husband full on the mouth, her arms going around his neck, pulling him closer. The big Mafia Don responded immediately, eagerly. He pulled her roughly to him, increasing the intensity of the lip lock, his hand stroking her, and Catalina noticed the love bites on the young woman’s neck . The room broke out into applause. Someone hooted, another voice shouted.

“Congratulations, Boss!’

Catalina looked around. What was going on? No one was paying any attention to her and she was dressed to kill. The tight boob tube was a killer. But she was getting as much attention as the furniture in the room.

lt made her insane with rage.

The indulgent grin on James Schwartz’s face and that of the red-haired girl who had mysteriously materialised at her side made her angrier by the minute.

“Proserpina is expecting their fourth baby.’ The pesky redhead had sidled up to her by this time and she grinned at Catalina as she spoke in a stage whisper.

She winked at Catalina as she added, conspiratorially,

“The Boss is over the moon.’