Proserpina
The doctor had finally agreed to allow me to see Paddy. The poor boy had been shifted from the theatre and lay in the large private room, the best in the small hospital, I guessed going by the spaciousness and the amenities. But then, it was to be expected. After all, it was Lucien and his mob that was financing this little hospital tucked away in a corner of the city. The police, I had learnt, were paid to look the other way on most occasions regarding the patients who were brought there..
A mind-boggling number of tubes had been attached to his body and he lay, his body inert, unaware of anything around him. The nurse in the room, a small dark-haired woman, shot me a sympathetic look but she said nothing as she tiptoed out. The doctor had asked us to leave the room as soon as possible and I clung to Lucien, for I needed his strength as I approached the bed, to look at the poor body.
My fingernails dug into Lucien’s muscled arm as I fought to control myself, the anger, the frustration and the overwhelming sadness that was threatening to overwhelm me. When I had pleaded with the doctor to tell me the truth, he had looked away, unbearable pity in his eyes as he said,
‘You need to prepare for the worst-case scenario, where your son might never regain consciousness, Mrs Delano.’
He averted his gaze from my face and continued,’
‘The young man was out in the cold and the rain for a long time; perhaps if he had received medical attention immediately…’
He sighed, letting his voice trail away and then without meeting our eyes, he said quietly, ‘We can only.. .’
Lucien had been furious to know what the doctor had told me for I had followed him to his cabin to question him without having my husband loom about like an avenging angel.
My husband had immediately assumed it would only upset me further but now, I steeled myself for the inevitable. I knew that we could only hope, only pray and I was determined to do that. Lucien scoffed at the idea of miracles and sneered at the power of prayer but I stolidly clung to my beliefs. it was a not particular religious thing; simply a belief in the Power above us. And I trusted in that Power.
*
Now, I stood beside Paddy, my beloved son from another mother, cliched as the phrase was.
Gently, I touched his arm and whispered, ‘Keep fighting, little fellow. I will be here when you open your eyes.’
Behind me, I felt Lucien shift. He did not think it was ever possible; he was probably thinking about where to keep Paddy for it was impossible to have him in a hospital bed for a long stay. And equally difficult to arrange for his security for Schwartz had hinted that Paddy might have been onto something huge, which was why someone had decided that he had to be eliminated.
I straightened my spine and turned to my husband. I allowed myself the moments of weakness but not now, not here. I needed to see that my husband, my lover, did not have any more stress. Stepping to him, I said, ‘Let us go.’
His eyes widened a fraction and his lips twitched slightly.
‘There was a guarded sort of admiration in his eyes as he pulled me to his hard body and spoke, voice rough with concern,
“Paddy will have a round-the-clock surveillance till he is brought back home. I will have him tended in the same way at our house too, do not fret, Woman.’
I smiled a small smile for I had never thought otherwise. I knew Lucien respected my wishes. When Paddy’s grandmother was dying and in hospital, it was my husband who had seen to it that the woman was well cared for till her last breath. Even though Paddy’s aunt, Sophia, had been instrumental in my kidnapping and the pain I had suffered at the hands of my captors, he had kept on paying the monumental bills, knowing that it was what I would have wanted.
No, Lucien Delano would never do anything so evil. As I glanced back at the prone figure on the bed, I sighed before moving to the door he turned, his eyes on my face as he said,
“I have caused you a lot of suffering, Woman.’
It was a statement, not a question but as I met his dark blue-grey gaze, I knew it was his way of apologising, stilted though it sounded.
Shrugging my shoulders, I stepped to him, placing my hand on his massive chest as I looked into his eyes solemnly and I replied, ‘I married a Mafia Don. I suppose this was part of the bargain…’
The sombre blue-grey gaze fixed on my face for a while, glinting.
Then he chucked my chin and said drily,
“Let us go and meet that idiot son of ours now.’
I smiled a little but as we left I saw the nurses enter to keep an eye on Paddy coupled with the sight of two burly security guards standing outside, one of whom I recognised, made me feel reassured.
Lucien growled at the man as we walked past, ‘Dixon.’ The man nodded and looked at me in acknowledgement and I felt better. Paddy was safe here.
*
Claude
He looked up as his parents entered. Piers, his elder brother was on the phone, talking to Ria and he swivelled around as well, straightening as he saw them. Piers quickly ended his conversation.
Claude sat up, sweating slightly as he saw the cold, forbidding look on his father’s face.
Lucien Delano could intimidate with just a look and now, he seemed to be doing his best to control his temper as he glared at his second son who was sitting stiffly on the bed..
His mother, beautiful and ravishing as ever, even under the circumstances, approached him, a small smile on her face. She took him in her arms and he winced as she hugged him.
“Woman, the boy is not dead. Yet,” snarled his father and she turned to him with a reproachful look.
“Lucien Delano, please,’ she said softly and his father scowled ominously.
‘Are you…?’ proserpina Delan tipped her son’s chin and searched his face, her lovely brown eyes, warm with love and maternal concern, flickering in worry.
He grinned, the irrepressible smile that had never failed to charm women, the lopsided slow smile.
“Sure thing, Mumma. Just…’
“Darn fool,’ growled his father who had taken possession of the only chair in the room and was now sitting like a monarch, with one muscled leg thrown over the other in his inimitable way. Claude remembered having tried to copy the stance on many occasions, only to fail miserably.
Now the Mafia Don sat silently, with his cold gaze fixed on Claude. One strong leg was placed across the other thigh and it was a stance that declared that he was in control. April turned to her husband, reproving him with her gaze,
“Lucien Delano…,” she began softly.
In answer, the Boss shook his head and snarled,’ This idiot boy should have asked me for backup.’
“I called Philippe…’ protested Claude but his father cut him short, leaning forward, body vibrating in anger as he spoke.
‘My Capo is not going to run around the country to fulfil your f*cking foolish investigations, damn it!”, he roared.
April shrank back. Claude broke out into a sweat. He hated it when his father laid down the law and made him feel small and insignificant.
Hell, there were times when he wondered whether Lucien Delano hated him. If not for the distinctive colouring and the characteristic traits he shared with his siblings, he would have believed that he was also adopted! F*ck, sometimes, he thought that Paddy was treated with more kindness by his father than he, Claude!
Now he sullenly looked down but he knew that what the Don had said was correct. Philippe was one of his father’s Capo’s not his exclusive servant to be chasing about unless the Mafia Don himself had instructed him to do so.
‘Yes Sir,’ he said sulkily. His mother, who had been silently listening to the exchange, sighed and said softly, ‘Take care, Claude.’ Turning to the nurse who had entered, she asked in her melodious voice, instantly charming the pretty Korean girl,
‘When can my son be released?’
The girl looked so downcast at the query that April sighed inwardly. Yes, Claude had probably exerted his considerable masculine charms on her as well! The young woman demurred and murmured,
‘The Doctor has said…’
The Boss who had risen to his feet impatiently, interrupted her rudely.
“He will leave this evening. I have told the doctor.’
Startled, the girl looked at Lucien Delano and swallowed. ‘Yes Sir,’ she mumbled and dove out of the room.
Piers, who had been watching quietly, spoke up.
‘Pappa, I shall stay here till Claude is released. When can we shift Paddy, sir?’
Gaston’s eyes flickered over his eldest son in approval, a look that was picked up by Claude. He did not resent his elder brother, f*ck, Piers was always in his corner, ready to help him. But at times, he did wonder why his father seemed to despise him, Claude. He sighed and his mother turned to look at him, her lovely face wreathed in concern. And as always, she had accurately guessed at his thoughts.
April turned away but her mind was churning. It was not the first time that she had sensed Lucien Delano’s unspoken criticism of Claude. True, Piers was an achiever and Lucien Delano’s Golden Boy. But the demanding way he set near-impossible goals for his younger son, who inevitably failed to live up to them, made April feel wretched.
Claude had been born from a night of violent abuse when Lucien Delano had all but raped her; the Mafia Don was punishing the child for what he had always regretted doing to his Woman.
She turned to her husband after gently kissing her injured son’s cheek. His jaw was stubbled and beneath the bonhomie, she saw that he looked grey and weary.
“Rest now,’ she said softly. Turning to her husband who was listening keenly to Piers, she said gently,
“Shall we leave, Lucien ?’
The Boss glanced at her and taking in her wan features, he rose to his feet after giving Piers some final instructions.
Nodding cursorily at Claude, and with a curt,’ Goodnight son,” to Piers,’ he stepped out with his woman, flanked by the bodyguards who had immediately appeared. Claude sighed as he turned his face to the wall. Piers came over to him, and stood, watching his brother for a while. Then,
‘Claude, he cares,’ said his elder brother. Claude nodded and grunted but he was anything but convinced.
*