The Mafia Don strode out, limping ever so slightly and made for his room, slamming the door behind him. He was breathing heavily. The scene with his little wife had been unpleasant. Seeing her distress had made him feel sick of himself, an emotion he had never felt before.
The sight of the little vixen never failed to arouse him. That luscious body, the fragrant hair, the way she melted when he touched her. And the sight of her soft, plump lips, her eyes, wide and so fresh, so innocent and guileless.
His c*ck reared painfully and he knew he would have to relieve his sexual frustration just then.
He groaned.
He wanted her so badly, it felt like a physical thing.
But much as he knew he would have been able to take her, yes, use her as he wont to before their marriage, he found that he could not do so anymore. Heck, he found that he had lost his desire for any other women a long while back. The only woman he wanted was Proserpina. His Woman.
Besides, he was not sure that she would give in to him as she had melted earlier. Now there was toughness in her resistance to him, a hurt that made her powerful.
But...
He could not get the image of her lovely brown eyes and the deep reproach and anguish in them. The way she had stood, small and defiant, clutching the shirt to her chest like it was a shield when it only made her seem more desirable in his eyes. That she longed to have him was obvious but the way she had put up a fight like a small kitten in the face of a more powerful predator had won his admiration, grudging as it was. She had matured, she was no longer the girl who was pliant and as soft as clay. This woman was someone he wanted to know, to hold in his arms, to take to bed, yes, to wake up to every morning.
The last thought startled him and he winced as he washed his face, touching the cut on his cheek reflectively.
Why had that thought strayed into his mind?
He stared at himself in the mirror. The cold, hard face looked back at him. He was under no delusions about himself. Lucien Delano was an unloving person. But somehow, this woman had wormed her way into his ...heart?
He touched the long scratch again and smiled reminiscently, as he remembered how she had scratched him.
The little feline, he thought and felt himself harden. The bite mark on his wrist throbbed and frowning, he washed it away. Then, changing into a fresh shirt, he made his way downstairs, trying to put down the guilt and the remorse he felt.
***
Schwartz was sitting comfortably ensconced on a chair when he went downstairs. To Lucien's surprise, the little boy, his son Piers was on Schwartz' lap, singing softly. Little Ria was playing with Schwartz's phone and before she looked up to study Lucien with a frown, she seemed to be deep in an animated conversation with his best friend, Handsome James. They looked so comfortable that he felt a jolt of envy shoot through himself. Like a family, he thought with a start and felt the waves of jealousy shoot through him.
Damn it, he thought angrily, those are my kids. And Schwartz looks more like a part of their lives than I do.
He realised with a growing feeling of guilt that he had never bothered to spend time with the children. Schwartz, on the other hand, looked perfectly at home.
***
'You still here?' Lucien snapped gruffly at his friend whose arched eyebrows showed that he was surprised at Lucien's annoyance.
Schwartz took in his change of clothes and the scratch on his cheek silently but Lucien knew his friend. The little wheels in his head were busy, he thought in annoyance and scowled.
'Yup. These kids ...' he laughed and affectionately stroked Pier's blonde head as he rose to his full height and chucked Ria under the chin. The gentleness in his expression showed that he was genuinely enjoying himself. The little girl who seemed to spend her life scowling looked up at Schwartz with a grin revealing small pearly teeth. She looks like Proserpina when she smiles, he thought in wonder and paused to stare at his daughter.
Schwartz lowered the little boy gently and winked at Ria who was now watching Lucien with a stormy expression.
There was no sign of his wife but he had not expected her to be around, not after the way he had behaved with her.
Schwartz was talking to him.
Looking around with a puzzled expression, a hint of disappointment in his handsome face Schwartz queried,
"Where's Proserpina, mate?"
Lucien grunted non-committedly and began to walk to the exit, his men readying to accompany them.
With a beaming face, Schwartz went on, keeping pace with him in his long and easy strides,
'Piers here can chant Buddhist hymns like a professional, did you know!'
He began to walk backwards, waving to the kids as he went and Lucien felt a knot of envy in his gut at the easy way his friend had worked his way into his children's hearts. The kids were chortling as he did a couple of mock stumbles, like a clown and Lucien envied his friend the easy way he had managed to win the hearts of his children,
He was always a charmer, he thought angrily, as he looked back scowling darkly at his children. Ria was giggling, cupping her hands over her face at Schwartz antics while Piers stood watching, a smile on his otherwise serious face.
"Care to be their daddy then?' snarled Lucien jealously before he could stop himself. Then, seeing his friend's startled expression he snapped, 'Come on, we need to go.'
Once they were in the comfort of the car, Schwartz showed his annoyance as he grunted,
'Mate, why are you so weird with them? You look through them, for fuck's sake! Those are your own kids!'
He turned round in his seat to look Lucien full in the eye.
Lucien pulled out his hip flask and took a swig of whiskey, savouring the feeling as the drink warmed him, trying to ignore the truth behind his friend's outburst.
'Go on now,' continued Schwartz in some agitation, " that bonny girl there, the one you've married, is scared shitless of you. '
His eyes went from the swelling on Lucien's wrist to the weal on his cheek. Frowning, he looked at Lucien earnestly. His handsome thin face was puckered with sorrow.
'Man, don't let it all slip away from you.'
Uncharacteristically for him, Schwartz's voice broke before he continued gruffly,
'When Fiona and Patrick were alive, when they were with me, I took them for granted. I thought we would have three kids; a long, happy married life...'
Fionella had been Schwartz's wife and along with his young son Patrick, they had died in the explosion meant for James Schwartz, something that the younger man would carry to his grave-the guilt, the pain. Lucien knew that the young couple had been madly in love though Fionella had hated Schwartz's profession.
He sighed brokenly and turned away abruptly. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse with emotion.
"Not a day goes by without my cursing myself for that. For those lost opportunities, mate.'
The ride to the city was silent after that. But Lucien sat, brooding over his friend's words till late that night.