Proserpina had already stopped listening, for she had buried her face in her hands, praying, her heart filled with gratitude. Her son, Paddy, was going to be all right!
Paddy was going to be fine!
*
Schwartz
He glanced at the time as he sipped at his brandy.
He knew that Aiyana was at home, waiting for him to return. But this evening, he had other things on his mind.
And meeting Aiyana was like just about the last thing he wanted to do.
*
Philippe was still missing. The plane had crashed and there had been no information from the people who had been on board; had they survived?
He glanced at the Boss. The man had, as he always did, shed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt to his waist, a sign that the was restless, rearing to beat up someone. The Mafia Don was a picture of fury, barely contained, as he made calls, and made sure that all the help he could muster up, was out there, on the way to find Philippe. All animal magnetism coupled with pumped-up aggression and his bodyguards stepped to the borders of the room nervously. No one wanted to tangle with the Boss when he was like this.
*
If the young Capo had managed to survive, thought Schwartz tiredly, rubbing his eyes.
He was getting tired of all this, he thought as he threw back his head and drained the tumbler. Sometimes he wished he could simply retire for all this, move to the hills, or somewhere peaceful, with a woman he loved beside him. He sighed as his thoughts conjured up images of the only woman he loved but could never have.
Proserpina Delano.
As though his thoughts had actually conjured her up, his phone beeped and he saw that she was calling him. He smiled slowly. They shared a bond, doubtlessly, he thought as he indicated to the Boss that he was going out to take the call.
Proserpina used to call him when her husband was either too busy to answer her calls or if she did not wish to disturb him. He stepped into the outer room to speak to her, his blonde head bent, thinking of how she would be biting her lower lip nervously, as she listened. He felt a deep love for her again and when he spoke, his voice held the whisper of a smile.
Lucien Delano was too pumped up with adrenaline to react, beyond giving a sharp nod as he paced back and forth, shooting instructions, and rapping out orders. His man, Gustav, the one who could not speak, arrived with a plate of sandwiches before melting into the background again.
*
Hila
She tried not to look hot and bothered as she listened to the instructions being given by Danielle’s assistant, Freda.
The tall, dark-skinned woman was explaining how the management would never let any of the women on the floor, from the bottle girls to the ones who hosted the patrons, feel that they were alone. Any sort of unease they felt would be taken seriously.
Hila listened and felt a tug of unwilling admiration for Lucien Delano.
He was one of the rare employers who never hesitated to put his staff before his clients. Perhaps that was why he was both feared and respected.
Hila knew that what the woman was saying was the truth; she had done her research before coming here. There had been incidents when the clients, no matter how important, were forcefully removed from the premises if they were found to have tried to cross the limits set by the club and disturb the staff. The presence of the well-muscled bouncers who moved around confirmed this.
That nugget of information had stayed with her and she had puzzled over it for a long while as she prepared for her role of Ava. But now, as she looked about her, at the faces of the women who were being employed, she understood just how real it was. The sense of security along with the hefty pay and the perks offered, of course, was something that attracted people to the Club.
She became aware that someone had entered the room and her gaze shifted, unobtrusively, to the figure lounging in the doorway. Her spine stiffened as she met the steady stare of the woman who stood there, the one with the thick cigar in her mouth, the one the staff called The White Witch.
Danielle
She was a force to be reckoned with, with those laser blue eyes and a sharp mind, and cutting tongue. Now her gaze was on the faces in the room and when she stepped into the room fully, Hila noted the tension that descended upon the people seated there.
But the ice blonde woman who walked with an unmistakable swagger, who had a throaty smoker’s voice could make lesser folk wet their pants, someone had told her nervously when she had been speaking to the others in the room, earlier.
Now she watched, curiously as Danielle moved to stand by Freda and picked out people, issuing orders.
Her eyes bored into Ava as she ordered crisply,
‘ No skulking in corridors on the top floor, people. That’s the Boss’s floor. Only the ones who are appointed directly by me can access that area.’
Hila let out a breath as the older woman left the meeting and strode out.
So Piers Delano had passed on the message, she thought. She would need to be careful.
***
Dinner was a restrained affair.
Proserpina had not been able to join the children as she was with the physiotherapist and his team, and of course, talking to her best friend and confidante, Schwartz. She knew better than to interrupt Lucien at this time and let him know of Paddy’s progress. Despite everything, Lucien only cared for the boy because Proserpina had insisted on adopting him. And he had not wanted to hurt her.
Besides, right now, he was too wrapped up in the matter of the Capo’ disappearance.
*
Tara nibbled at her food fussily. Mumma had not prepared the dinner and so, naturally, it tasted to her, like boiled cabbage. Ria, her eyes red-rimmed and nose a deep shade of red, was too unhappy to care and the boys would eat anything, even if it was fried cardboard, she thought in disgust as she daintily moved the piece of an offending vegetable and pushed it to the corner of her plate
“Eat up, Missy. Eat that broccoli or…’ barked Beatrice who had appeared at her elbow magically.
*