The Monk
He sat back, his fingers steepled as he smiled to himself. Truly, the ways of God were strange, he thought as he smiled maliciously.
He had heard of what had transpired at the house of Lucien Delano; it always paid to have moles in the opposite camp. Paid spies. And sometimes, threatening them, made them ferret out information for the monk with alacrity.
Now he rubbed his hands together as he stood up and began to pace about the room. Seven steps one way, seven steps the other way. Back and forth he went, as he calculated, humming a hymn to himself tunelessly as he walked.
Either way, he stood to win. If Delano’s wife died, it would be a massive blow to him; if the wife survived and the child died, well, would his family stand with him, and support him?
There would be blame that would be hurled at Lucien, the Mighty Delano!
The monk chuckled, an evil sound. His men looked around. It never meant good if the old man laughed.
*
Ria.
She stared at the door in trepidation as the sound of the key turning in the lock alerted her to someone coming into her room.
The last she had seen before she was gently but forcefully propelled away to her room, and locked in, on the express orders of the Mafia Don, she thought bitterly was the sight of her Mumma defending her. As the tears began to flow again, she thought of her mother.
Mumma had stood up to Pappa, like a lioness, she thought and felt herself cringe. She had been so cruel to her mother, had said unspeakably wounding words to her mother but Mumma had rushed to stand up for her…
*
Now the door flew open and Tara came in, looking frightened. She rushed straight into Ria’s arms and burst out crying.
“Ria, Ria… it’s Mumma…our Mumma…’
Ria stiffened, alarmed. What was her little sister gabbing about? She shook her and said, sternly,
“What? What happened to Mumma?’?’
But Tara only mumbled,
“She…she began to bl…bleed…’ sobbed the young girl, hysterical with fear,’ And they took her away in an ambulance…and she did not open her eyes…’
And with a hiccup of fright, she exclaimed, clutching Ria’s hands,
“Will she die…?
And she broke out into a fresh storm of tears.
*
Burying her head in her elder sister’s bosom, her thin shoulders shaking with sobs, she wept loudly.
Ria was now alarmed. the guard who had opened the door had disappeared. Instead, one of the maids stood there, eyes red-rimmed and looking shaken.
‘ Pam,’ said Ria, trying to sound in control but the fear in her was growing, ‘What… where’s Mumma?’
“The mistress has been rushed to the hospital, Ms Ria,’ said the woman, stuffing her fist in her mouth as she tried to control her distress.
*
Making up her mind at once, Ria stood up, and tugging her sister behind her, she rushed downstairs. There was a flurry of activity but she could not see her siblings, Piers, or Claude anywhere around…and then all of a sudden, Dom and Lou were flinging themselves on her.
“Mumma…she’s gone to the hospital,’ cried Dom, the one who was gentle and sensitive, the brother who cared for birds with broken wings and stray kittens. His small face was flushed from crying and she gently gathered him to her body, hugging him.
Lou was trying to be brave but his lower lip trembled, the golden locks falling over his forehead.
“We need to go to see Mumma, then,’ snapped Ria, taking charge.
Dexter, one of her father’s men, had come to them, standing uncertainly shifting from foot to foot.
“Take us to the hospital,’ she cried, in desperation, and seeing the hesitation on his face, she begged, ‘Please, Dex.’
The man looked unhappy but she looked at him woefully and he gave in with a sigh.
“Right then,’ he said and muttered something about the Boss skinning him as he led them away. The cluster of children, led by Ria, went down to the underground garage and in minutes, they were roaring out of the underground garage and along the road to the hospital, accompanied by two more cars of men. Ria hugged her younger sister to her body as she held onto Dom’s hand. Lou stared stoically out of the window.
*
Lucien
He felt alone, all of a sudden. His older sons were with him but they kept their distance, avoiding meeting his eyes too.
Not that he cared.
As for Schwartz, he was pacing up and down. He still managed to look rakishly handsome despite the stress on his face. Lucien pulled out his hip flask and took a long swig from it. He knew he was on the way to getting drunk but he could not care anymore.
By the time they arrived at the hospital, Proserpina had slipped into a state of unconsciousness. She had been rushed to the surgery at once. He had seen the frown of reproach on the face of the old doctor who generally attended to her.
Almost an hour later, the old man came out in his scrubs, looking stressed.
‘Your wife has suffered a high loss of blood, Mr. Delano, ‘he said in his quaint English.
“Her BP was very high,’ he went on and here he fixed the Don with another accusatory look and then continued,
“It has not been an easy pregnancy for her, as you may know,’ he continued loftily, and his tone seemed to suggest that Lucien did not know the first thing about it anyway. The unspoken criticism riled the Boss and he stepped closer, invading the older man’s space, and growled,
“What are you doing now, you old fool? Tell me that!’
“We are giving her blood transfusions at the moment,’ sighed the old man tiredly, ignoring the insult. ‘And we will have to go for a C-section.’ He sighed again as he went on in a droning voice,
“She is too far gone to suffer the childbirth. She will not be able to push the baby out. Besides, the child is in danger and…’
Lucien gripped the old man’s lapels and jerked him forward, bringing him to an abrupt halt. Schwartz and Claude rushed forward, struggling to let his death grip loose but the Don was in a rage and like an unchained mighty beast.
‘ Do whatever the f*ck you need to do you f*cking bas*ad,’ he snarled, ‘just make sure that you save my woman. I don’t give a sh*t about the child. Just make sure my Woman is alright.’
The old man stepped back, looking affronted and a little shaken. He struggled to regain some amount of composure as he said in a shaky tone,
‘Sir, please do not threaten me. We are doing everything we can for her.’
And he moved away, looking very agitated.
“Mate, you can’t try to beat him up, he’s the f*cking doctor, bro!’ sighed Schwartz, his hand on Lucien’s heavily muscled arm.
But the Mafia Don was not listening. He sank down onto a chair, his head in his hands.
His Woman was suffering.
That was the only reality in his head and the words seemed to be going around in his head