The men turned around, chagrined expressions on their faces. Schwartz colored, like a guilty schoolboy. He tried to change the subject, asking in return,
"How's she? Mate, how is Proserpina?"
There was no ignoring the deep passion in his eyes, in his face as he watched the Boss who stood, hands clenched, breathing hard, his eyes narrowed.
But Lucien Delano had not become a powerful Don by being sidestepped, even if it was by his closest friend.
"What was that?" he rasped, moving into the room looking more dangerous than he knew, the dark stubble on his cheeks adding to the roguish look on his face.
"What are you keeping from me, eh?" he barked.
Schwartz stood up, as elegant as ever though it was probably past eleven at night and he had been wearing the suit since morning. Like the other men, he had discarded his jacket too but he still looked as though he had stepped out from a photoshoot of a gentlemen's fashion magazine, thought Lucien drily. His deep blue hemp shirt with the sleeves rolled up only added to his suave look. Shark, on the other hand, looked haggard, his dirty blonde ponytail looking greasy, his high forehead shiny with sweat although it was chilly in the room with the air conditioner at full blast. He was slightly overweight for apart from f*cking women, he had no other exercise, he joked coarsely.
Lucien's white dress shirt was crumpled and his hair was ruffled. But he was uncaring of all that as he stood, facing off his friends, his dark almost fierce look taking them in.
Schwartz sighed and thrust his hands into his pocket.
He met Lucien's eyes, his own expression grim as he said,
"This came in the afternoon, soon after the doctor had been here. For you. It was hand-delivered at the gate."
He picked up a long envelope that was white in color, which had probably been opened earlier by Beston. The Head of Security would never allow anything to enter the house without checking it himself.
Frowning, Lucien strode over, wondering who would deliver an envelope for him at his house.
He flipped it open impatiently, aware of the tension radiating from his friends as he did so.
And froze as he read the crude note inside.
The message had been typed and consisted of just one word.
"Congratulations." On getting to be a father again.'
The word sank to the depths of his stomach like a stone.
Dmitri Rudenko.
He stared at the note, his heartbeat racing as he realized that Dmitri was watching his house, his family. The man knew everything that was going on in his house.
He now knew that Lucien's wife was expecting their third child.
His woman and his family were no longer safe.
On the contrary, they were in a very vulnerable position.
***
Shark left soon after; someone had to take care of the matters at the club, he mumbled before scurrying away. They had a Cuban delegation that had just arrived. Shark and his host of wh*res would keep the men soft and happy before the talks the next day. But Schwartz opted to stay behind, They needed to find who was infiltrated into Lucien's men.
A few more hours, meetings with Beston, discussions into the wee hours of the morning and they knew that it was a man who had recently joined Beston's force. He had been employed at the club recently and had been given duties at the house just three days ago.
His name was Stuart and a manhunt was immediately launched as Lucien's men searched for him.
By 3 a.m, the fellow had been traced to the next State where he had been getting onto a bus, leaving for the airport. He had been accompanied by a woman, his girlfriend.
Stuart was found and brought back to the mansion, where Lucien personally took over the interrogation.
The anger he felt made him cruel and the man was screaming for mercy, even pleading to be killed and put out of his plight before he finally confessed. His ribs were broken, his face bloodied, Lucien knew that the man would not survive. But he felt a cold rage as he snapped the man's neck finally, putting him out of his misery.
***
But Stuart had passed on whatever information he had before he was killed.
Yes, he had been paid a huge sum to pass on news about the goings-on in Lucien's house. No, he had no idea who he was passing on the news to, it had been an anonymous man who had paid him a preposterous sum. Yes, his girlfriend wanted to start a family, and he wanted the money, sobbed Stuart, his nose was broken, his face and body bloodied but worse, he knew he was about to die.
Lucien winced as he walked out. His knuckles were bloodied and bruised from pounding the man but he had got some information.
Dmitri was closer than he had imagined.
***
A desire to check on his wife had him head towards her room. He knew the door to her bedroom would be unlocked; she wanted her children to walk in if they wished at any time in the night.
Now he pushed the door open softly and stared in stupefaction.
The bed was empty. It did not look as though it had been slept in.
A sense of panic engulfed him. Disregarding the fact that he was in his shirtsleeves with bloodstains on his once crisp white shirt, he strode across to the anteroom,
And stopped.
***
Proserpina
Sleep had proved elusive once the effects of the sedative had worn off. I had finally gotten up and headed for a bath. Anything to get over the thoughts that were running through my mind. I wanted to stop thinking of Lucien.
After having stood under the warm shower for a long while, I towelled myself and stepped out, wrapped in my fluffy white towel. The twins wanted me to prepare Indian pancakes for breakfast tomorrow, I thought as I applied the fragrant body lotion to my legs, sitting on the stool facing the mirror in the large dressing room adjoining the bathroom. The slight movement in my belly made me wince and at the same moment, the door to my dressing room opened and I looked up, in surprise.
Lucien stood there, his heavily muscled chest heaving, face grey with tension.
As our eyes met, I saw the sudden look of relief on his face and I frowned in puzzlement and annoyance.
Whirling round to look at him, I stood up.
And watched as the expression in his eyes altered, imperceptibly.
Lucien
He had not seen her undressed in a long while and his eyes slowly slid over her body, noting with amazement the changes that he had not really observed; the slight thickening of her stomach which was well-rounded, her breasts that seemed to have filled out even more.
He raised his eyes to her face.
***
Proserpina
I gasped as I took in his appearance.
Lucien's shirt had bright red marks on it.
Bloodstains.
I could make out that his knuckles were raw.
"What's...happened?" I whispered, sinking to the stool in shock and fear.
He seemed to straighten with difficulty and I became aware that he looked bone tired.
"Lucien, what's happened?" I repeated urgency in my voice.
Why was he still here? I wondered; why was he wandering around the house in the middle of the night? In his formal clothes at that? Clothes that had blood on them?
***
He seemed to come to a decision.
Turning to leave, he said over his shoulder,
"Nothing for you to worry about."
And almost as an afterthought, he growled,
"Why are you out of bed? You should be resting."
I glared at his strong back.
"Don't you dare treat me like an invalid." I snapped, riled at his words. glaring furiously at him although he wasn't facing me. Fiercely, I stared at his broad back, willing myself to hate this man as I continued, clutching the towel to my chest, for I had noticed the look of hot desire in his eyes when he looked at me.
"I shall do what I want, when I want."
He turned his eyes grey slits of ice.
Yet when he spoke it was softly, almost gently,
"But that's MY child you are carrying, little woman. Take care of yourself and ...our baby."
With that, he shut the door behind him gently, leaving me staring open-mouthed after him.