They had only covered a few miles when the phone rang. The Capo looked at the screen, his brows furrowing. It was a call from the Mafia Don.
Swallowing, he attended the call.
The Boss was curt.
“How is she, how is my daughter?’ he asked in a clipped voice. No beating about the bush, thought the Capo, always straight to the point.
He looked across at Ria who was leaning back in her seat, her feet curled beneath her, like a cat.
He grunted and Lucien Delano understood. His daughter was beside the Capo and the young man did not want to upset her.
The Mafia Don went on, grimly.
‘The reports are that Paval and his men are getting to the place. Now.’
He paused, breathing harshly as the words sank into the Capo’s head.
‘I want you to stop at a safe place and rest for a few hours before getting back here. I shall be sending a few men who should be there in an hour’s time. But they might not get there soon enough.’
Philippe’s mind worked overtime. The Don went on.
‘Schwartz is sending you the details of some places you can stay in for a few hours.’
The Capo grunted his assent.
He had shared the details of the photograph found in the house, close to the dead man and the Don was livid.
*
Having almost lost his Woman when Dmitri had kidnapped her and come close to selling her on the white slave market as a sex slave, the Don had done all that was in his power to crush the ring. He had succeeded in killing Dmitri Rudenko but the business was thriving very enough, thank you very much, with Dmitri’s brother, a monk named Paval, and Dmitri’s nephew, Dusak, now at the helm.
Philippe had heard that Paval was interested in the money that flowed in from the sale of these hapless people, men, women and children, to be sold as objects to satisfy the basest desires of rich people all over the world. But he also funded his other operations like drug running and arms dealing, from the exorbitant profits obtained by human trafficking.
Paval studiously refrained from getting involved sexually in all these matters. He was celibate, from the reports they had put together.
But the nephew, Dusak or Duska as he was called, was another piece of work. Philippe’s knuckles tightened and whitened on the steering wheel.
The young man was evil personified, as his mother would have said. he was sadistic and brutal, often taking pleasure in torturing his victims, the unfortunates who ended up in his clutches, breaking their spirit totally before selling them as submissive slaves in the flesh trade.
And the blood-splattered cutting of Ria had not happened to get there by chance; oh, no.
Dusak was openly challenging them, telling them that he was after Lucien Delano’s precious daughter.
*
The Mafia Don and the heir to Dmitri Rudenko’s business had a long history. Dusak had tried to kill Lucien when the Don was fighting with Dmitri that very last time before he finally ended the man’s life. And in a reflex move, the Don had lashed out, blinding the young Dusak, and causing him to lose one eye.
The rare photographs the Capo had secured of Dusak had shown a brawny, muscular youth, close to his age, with a black eye patch that seemed rakish and attractive at first glance. But he knew the total depravity and perversion that Dmitri’s heir was capable of and he felt again, the desire to hide the lovely woman beside him, keep her safe and hidden from the world.
But that was not possible though he would give up his life, protecting her if need be. Ria Delano was his and only His.
*.
Philippe looked across at Ria who was staring outside, blindly. The large vehicle was practically eating up the miles as he sped to one of the places that James Schwartz had sent him directions for, a small farmhouse tucked away from the main road, a safe house of the Mob that few people were aware of.
It was the closest and time was essential.
*
Ria seemed oblivious to the surroundings and besides, the world outside was covered in darkness. They were heading deeper into the outskirts of Hollowford, to the forests away from the city, to the opposite side of the Delano mansion and Philippe knew of the danger ahead if Dusak attacked them.
His gaze slid to Ria again.
With an ache in his heart, he realised that she would never forget the image of the dead man; it would be stamped on her memory forever.
Her white face and soft mouth stirred the deepest feelings of care within him. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white as he realised the danger they were in.
The Don had ended the call but with a word of deep caution.
“Take care of my girl, Capo.’
“With my life, Boss,’ he swore silently, ‘ I shall protect my Princess with my life.’
*
Proserpina
I looked up as Lucien came in. Claude stood up too, looking slightly fearful but trying hard to hide his apprehension. Claude was always like this around his father, I thought sadly.
My husband limped ever so slightly when he was stressed and this evening, he was practically dragging his leg. He looked grey-faced and stressed, the vast difference in our ages more evident than ever now.
*
I noticed but said nothing. He hated to be reminded of the wound that had been the result of a bullet injury sustained during a fight with his arch-enemy, Dmitri Rudenko.
My husband’s eyes flickered over our son and then, moved to my face. I knew I was tense; Ria had gone off with Philippe, to find out something about a friend of Paddy’s; that was all the information that my lover would give me.
Now, he crossed over to me and I rose to my feet, a hand on my swollen belly. Claude and I had been sitting on the patio, our deck chairs facing the green, tranquil lawns as he filled me in on what Paddy had been up to. Dusk had fallen. The long shadows on the lawn were evidence that another day had drawn to a close, silently and with a finality that left me wishing that things were different, that my children were younger, that all of them were around me, not scattered…
From within the house, I could hear the sounds of my sons, Dom and Lou as they cheered; they were at their video games again, I thought with a sigh. Tara, thankfully, was with Maddy, the pixie-faced child who was staying at our place with her family. Maja Nord, her mother with her wild, springy red curls, had gone out earlier, checking for a place for them to stay and she had called to tell me that would be back in a couple of hours. She had, thankfully enough, taken her son, a dark, sullen boy a few years older than my boys, with her. Magnus Nord seemed to be unpleasant and brooding and I hated the way his eyes stayed on Ria, flat and expressionless, like a lizard that had sighted prey.
Covetous, insolent. I knew that Pies had noticed Magnus’s lewd looks on his twin sister and I also suspected that he would be doing something about it if it continued. It would be best, I had thought if Maja Nord and her family left. The sooner the better.
I was aware that James Schwartz was in the house too; he had come to the kitchen when I was there, asking for the coffee that I made, my special South Indian brew.
‘Brewed with love,’ as he often teased me. But when he turned to go, I had seen the look of weariness as he strode out.
Something was going on.
*