The Man
He stood, watching as the party unfolded. He hated the way Lucien could not take his eyes off that Woman. But the Don seemed to be following her with his eyes, protectively, caring, concerned. The Man scowled. She was heavy with child, no great beauty, he thought disdainfully. And the Boss was besotted in his old age.
But the other men in the room seemed to drink her in with their eyes. Her sensuous movements, even now, were like bait. Attracting men to her.
He felt sorry for that fool Ramos. He had been openly lecherous and had paid the price for his folly. *** He hated her. Had hated Proserpina Martinez, the little nobody, from the first time he had met her.
A simpleton, he had thought when he first met her, all starry-eyed and in love with a man who was older than her. A fool. Wait for a while, Lucien will get over her, like the other women they had used. The three of them, together. But it had not happened that way. The affair had gone on for months. Then she had run away. Lucien had been devastated, going around like a crazed animal when she had disappeared. When he brought her back, the two children with her, he had known that Lucien would never leave her. In spite of all the women he had thrown in Lucien's way, the Don had remained obsessed with his wife.
Sure, he had f*cked the wh*res he had sent to the Boss but the man remained steadfast in his devotion to his wife. And then, he had known that it was time to up the game. Proserpina Martinez was a person who could be removed easily. The ONLY woman the Mafia Don had ever cared for in this constant, sickening way, thought The Man in disgust. And Lucien Delano had to be removed permanently.
***
He sipped his drink, thoughtfully. That was not the only reason why he felt that Lucien had to go. Yes, his obsession with that one Woman was a moot point. Coupled with that was his strong opposition to some of the other avenues they could have used to build up their business. As the one who ultimately called the shots, Lucien Delano had refused to budge from his stance. Which meant that some of the lucrative drug deals he had tried to push through fell flat. Arms dealing, yes, that was okay.
But trafficking of women? No! said Lucien authoritatively. Drugs? No, again. Yes, he knew that Lucien was haunted by the past, he could never get over the scenes he had grown up with, seeing his mother sell her body for drugs. Lucien Delano was hell-bent on not doing drugs, no trading in them too.
The Man frowned grimly. He turned and placed his tumbler on a counter, smiling blandly at one of the Club wh*res who had sidled up to him.
***
Time was running out. Now he knew that it was too late. He had signed a deal. Brought in Dmitri Rudenko, Lucien's arch-rival and nemesis.
Lucien Delano needed to go. He had to be removed. As for that meddling woman with her children... She would fetch a good price on the slave market, for white slave trafficking was booming, was it not? He smiled thinly and moved towards Lucien's office, his hand caressing the cold metal of his revolver as he walked, determined... *** Proserpina I stared at my husband as he turned to face me.
There was a clinical coldness about him now, alertness as he limped around, searching. I watched him growing increasingly frustrated and enraged as he raked his hand through his hair, the tightness in his face signalling that something was terribly wrong.
He pulled out the drawers and threw the files onto the floor, searching in vain for something that was obviously not there. "Lucien?' I queried hesitantly, afraid without knowing why. 'My guns,' he growled, almost ruminatively, 'all gone. The three I keep here, are all gone.
Except for this one, the one no one knows about.' I stared in horror at the gun he produced from behind the liquor cabinet as he said, calmly checking it, "It is an automatic pistol, a Taurus, from Brazil.' He spoke, musingly, almost as though he was talking to himself, 'Effective.' I shrank in horror. I knew what my husband did; I was fully aware of the violence on which his life was based.
But the sight of the revolver in his hand, the ease with which he was holding it, handling it with such familiarity, made me shudder. His grey eyes lifted to me and a wave of sadness flitted across the harsh visage. 'I exposed you to this,' my little one, he growled, his voice full of regret. He came towards me, and I moved into his arms immediately, instinctively craving the security of his powerful arms around me.
***
Lucien
'Lucien,' she whispered, terror written large on her pretty face, the brown eyes large with anxiety,' Lucien, what is it, tell me please, you are frightening me.'
He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head, breathing in the familiar fragrance of vanilla that soothed him as he said, tiredly. "I had guessed that someone inside, someone close to me, was the one who had contacted Dmitri. Someone whom I had trusted, little one."
Her arms went around him, and her hard, swollen stomach pressed against him as she looked up at him, solemnly. The trust and the love in her great brown eyes made him feel weak with affection and a sense of foreboding filled him. An unfamiliar feeling of grief, and guilt, rose within him. He had no idea if they would live to see another day, this beautiful woman who worshipped him, whom he had only hurt.
He had brought her into this web of danger. A wave of anger surged through him as he thought back to the events that had been unfolding over the past weeks, events that had made him realize that someone he trusted implicitly, was behind all the dangerous things that had been happening to his family.
He sighed and went on, ' The security of the house had been breached on two occasions before this. Beston found out soon enough but he also told me that it had to be someone close to me who had done it.' Staring into the distance, he went on, half to himself, "Someone who knew our way of life, our routine. Someone who was a frequent visitor to our home.'
He lowered his head and planted a kiss on her upturned face, her eyes wide with panic. Lucien went on, almost sadly, 'The person was too clever, too cunning for us. We could not discover his identity.' He sighed, and she realized with a pang that she had never seen him so defeated, ever before. Lucien was always the one in control. Now he looked as though he had lost. Lucien went on, 'This evening, Sita Kumar, discovered a little after midnight, that the security detail outside the house, the area near our children's rooms, had been removed.' Proserpina stiffened in his arms, fear in her wide eyes as she parted her lips.
But he quietened her, saying softly, "Our children are safe. I had had them shifted to my rooms soon after we left the house." Proserpina gazed at him. So he had suspected something. Which explained why he had been so unusually preoccupied all evening. The way he had hardly taken his eyes off his phone. The distant look in his eyes all evening.. Lucien stared at his wife, the relief that flooded into her face on knowing that the children were safe made him understand how dear they were to him.
But he withheld some important things from her. he did not want to make her worry, not when she was in this condition. He had deliberately not told her the most dreadful things; that someone had deliberately called off the guards at that time, in that particular area, when he and Proserpina were away from the house. And the guards in charge had obeyed the summons because of the nature of the call. The frightening part was the place it had originated from. He did not give Proserpina some more fear-inspiring details.
That the call had come from the Club. And even worse, THE CALL HAD COME FROM THIS OFFICE; IT HAD BEEN MADE IN HIS OFFICE. *** He placed a finger on her mouth to stall her questions and said, '
Sita is a trained assassin. She was alert and Beston had warned us that the threat of something happening in a few days was not too unreal.' He stiffened and went on grimly, "The attempt was thwarted.' Lucien did not give her the details. Sita had been alerted about a possible attack on the home that night. She had lain in wait. But Lucien was determined to spare his wife the gory details.
Of how a security guard had been killed, of how Sita had shot a couple of men who had actually managed to enter the grounds and head to the mansion, towards the room where the children stayed. He did not want to scare Proserpina.
Of how Sita Kumar had been killed while saving their children.
Proserpina clung to him, "But who...Lucien?" she whispered, frightened. "Who...?" And then as a deadly comprehension dawned on her, she clutched his arm and cried softly, "S...?'
The door flew open suddenly, and taken by surprise, the man and woman in the room, who stood with their arms around each other, turned simultaneously to stare at the man who stood silhouetted in the doorway. A man they had trusted all along...
Beyond him, they could make out the unmoving figure of the wingman, Ray, crumpled and lying in a heap on the floor. There was a dark stain on the ground around him. Proserpina gasped in disbelief as she recognized the familiar figure of the man who stood framed in the door, as she turned, huddling into the large, strong body of her husband for protection. ***
The sound of a single gunshot rang out.