Proserpina
A few days later, I was discharged from the hospital.
The baby was doing well and so was I.
It was only because of Shark's beatings that I had had to stay in hospital. I had hurt my arm when I fell, and my face was now healing. It had been a livid purple in patches, but now the bruises were fading.
Lucien was still in hospital, although he was recovering, albeit slowly. The doctors had assured me that he was getting better. Yes, he had initially been in danger of slipping into a coma due to the severe loss of blood. But the speedy attention he had received had helped. The bullets fired by Shark, I was informed, had missed any major arteries. The bleeding had been intense, but he was on the road to recovery. I visited him in the hospital, although he was sedated. He did not stir when we went in, the children and I. With my heart heavy with anxiety, we set off back home.
Danielle had taken charge of our security, and she was thorough about it. Lucien also had a handful of beefy-looking men guarding him at all times at the hospital. I wondered how the hospital authorities had allowed it until Schwartz told me that the hospital had been on Lucien's payroll for quite some time.
I rolled my eyes.
Why was I not surprised?
Sita Kumar had been killed when Dmitri Rudenko's men had tried to storm the house. She had put up a fight and taken down four of the men who had forced their way in.
That hurt me. I felt low for days, knowing that she had died saving my children.
***
On the day that Lucien regained consciousness, we rushed to the hospital-the children and I.
Ria wanted to throw herself on Lucien and hug him but the doctor was clear; only I was allowed to meet him in the ICU room.
'Make sure you do not exhaust him,' warned the small Asian man before striding away.
Smiling with joy, I went in.
Lucien lay surrounded by tubes and monitors. But he was awake. As I walked in, I could not hide the happiness I felt and I rushed to his side.
But his reaction left me discombobulated.
He turned to look at me, his pale eyes narrowed, and I saw a flash of joy on his face before it was replaced by a cold mask.
I faltered,
Why was he looking so indifferent?
'Lucien?' I cried, rushing to him, smiling as I bent to kiss him.
His lips were warm and dry, but he made no attempt to return my effusive greeting. I felt a chill in my heart.
What ...well, he must be upset, I thought. I held his hard hand in mine and lifted it to my cheek.
"I'm so happy ...You are awake,' I whispered, "And safe."
To my shock, he jerked his hand away.
"Where are my children?' he growled, unsmiling, refusing to meet my eyes.
I stared at him, the hurt increasing.
What was wrong? I asked myself, biting my lip. But Lucien continued to lie, his eyes shut, effectively ignoring my forlorn presence.
Smiling shyly, I stepped to him, laying my hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged me off impatiently.
'The children? Where are they?' He snapped icily, and I felt myself stiffen as he watched me through narrowed eyes.
Bewildered, I replied in a shaky whisper,
'I will call them, '
Rising from the bedside, I mumbled an excuse and, turning, left the room, trying not to cry.
But my heart was breaking as I watched the children trip into his room, elated.
When I told the children that their father was waiting for them, they rushed in. Beatrice, who had come with us, gave me a keen look and followed them in as I demurred to accompany them.
I excused myself to the maids, claiming that it was time to feed baby Claude, and rushed back home. My mind was in turmoil. Why was he behaving in this way, I asked myself, alternating between anger and hurt.
***
Lucien
Lucien had been curt with her; he knew that, and he hated himself for the grief he was causing her, the crestfallen expression she had as she turned and left. But the sight of her face, the bruises that were fading on her pretty, youthful face, had made him feel remorseful.
She had suffered intensely, all because of Him. He, the Mafia Don and crime lord, Lucien Delano, was the cause of her pain.
She had almost been killed by Shark, the man he had trusted, the man he had regarded as a brother.
F*ck, they had grown up together. And the man had cold bloodedly plotted to kill him and his Woman.
He had dragged her, willy-nilly, into his dark, ugly life of crime. She had stayed by his side, and borne him three children. What had he given her in return?
A near-death encounter.
A tussle with a maniac who had hated her for no fault of hers.
And she, so young and fresh, glowing with happiness, showed her radiant expression on seeing him. It made him feel even less worthy of her. She deserved someone better, he thought bitterly-not an old man who was so badly injured.
She should not love him. She deserved someone younger, someone who could offer her a stable life of happiness and safety.
Not a life with him.
Not a life with Lucien Delano, the ageing mob boss who had nearly been killed by a man he had trusted so completely.
He could not imagine her with anyone else, f*ck, he would KILL any man who dared to touch her!
But he was torn, hating himself for having ruined the lovely, sensuous woman who continued to love him, although he had put her through hell.
Bitter and angry with himself, he forced a smile as his children rushed to him, smothering him with kisses and hugs even as the nurses appeared, alarmed and anxious, to shoo them away.