He sat up and swung his legs to the side, as he switched on the night light. Proserpina was awake too, and she was lying on her side, propped on an elbow, her full breasts revealed as she watched her husband, wide-eyed.
He rolled back and pulled her to him, fondling a thick nipple as he spoke to his son,
“The f*ck do you want?”
“Pa…Sir…” Louis went on hesitantly,” Serena has …”
His father swore violently and Proserpina whimpered as his fingers twisted her nipple cruelly.
She sank her teeth into his shoulder in retaliation, trying vainly to wriggle out of his grasp. He flung a thick leg over her waist and she glared at him helplessly…
“What does that ginger-headed girl have to say now?” snarled the Boss who secretly admired Serena for her no-nonsense approach to things.
A good one to keep our flighty Louis in line, he had told his Woman who had arched her brows and studied him in silence, her full lips widening into a teasing smile.
Unlike you? She seemed to say.
Sweating nervously, for he was still in awe of his daunting father, Louis waited a beat and explained what they had found. Lucien Delano leaned back against the pillows; his wife’s naked body cupped to his side as he listened.
The Mafia Don had never indulged in human trafficking; he abhorred it, just as he never allowed drugs to become a part of his mob business.
Now, with a slight frown, as he caressed Proserpina’s warm breasts, he recalled the conversation he had had with James Schwartz a few days ago; his Underboss had hinted at the growing menace created by Cahill who was emerging as a kind of player who had many politicians in his pockets.
Piers and Tristan Lord had also said something on the same lines some time back. Of course, the Delano mob was too big for small fry like him to bring down, but Cahill was becoming an irritant.
“So, he was pimping out young children apart from women and men?” The Mafia Don scowled dangerously.
The young grandchildren who overran his house had made him mellow down considerably. Suddenly, he could not bear the thought of anyone hurting a child.
He snapped, “Come to the point, boy. Why did you call me at this time of night?”
He knew his Woman was listening intently, her wide brown eyes open in alarm.
Louis swallowed. Then he spoke in a smaller voice,
“Sir…you…you’re close friends with the Governor and Judge McDill.”
Delano understood where this was leading.
“You want me to get them to intervene, eh?” growled the Mafia Don.
Lucine Delano’s mind was moving swiftly.
This was above Piers’ pay grade.
It would demand old-school intervention.
HIS intervention.
The Governor, Logan Hudson, was an old acquaintance and Lucien Delano had spared no expense to help the man to win the elections. Hudson was also tipped to be the next president of the USA.
As for Judge McDill, he often stayed at the Shangri-La with his wife.
Neither man would refuse his request; besides it would make them look good in the eyes of the public if a major human trafficking ring was brought down. Lucien Delano was not interested in cornering the fame that came with it.
He was totally against human trafficking.
The Mafia Don nodded, stroking his Woman’s hips and back, his eyes on her curvaceous body, his mind slotting away the information his son was giving him.
“Tomorrow,” he snapped brusquely and he cut the call in his typical abrupt way.
His Woman sat up, a hand holding the blanket to cover her full breasts, her hair tousled, her plump lips parted as she studied him, brown eyes wide.
“Lucien, what…?”
The Mafia Don never discussed his business with her; she was to remain innocent of any of his deals. It was for her own safety; he had told her once. But the sound of her son’s name had obviously alarmed her.
He grunted and rolled on top of her and she squealed in protest.
Pushing her fists between them as he parted her legs roughly with a kick to her ankles and a sharp slap on her pus*y, she spat at him,
“No Lucien, tell me. What…,” Here she tied to stop his marauding hands as she panted breathlessly, for his fingers were toying with her sensitive clit, swollen and ready to be excited by him.
“Tell me please…is he alright?” her brown eyes, heavy-lidded with desire, for his thick manhood was probing commandingly at her dripping wet pus*y now, she gasped.
He silenced her the way he always did.
“Wh*re spread your legs. Time to be f*cked by your Master,’ was all he said in answer.
And Proserpina, who knew better than to argue, surrendered to him as he proceeded to take her in his usual savage fashion.
Bianca turned as she became aware of someone behind her. Her sister Beth stood, arms folded across her chest, a stormy look in her eyes.
“Bee, who are those men?” and as Bianca began to falteringly explain, she shook her head, her face grim.
“NO! I mean, I want the truth.”
Bianca had spun a tale about how the two Masters were her employers, people who had stepped in to help her out of the goodness of their hearts.
But now, she realized that her sister had not bought it.
Last evening, Beth had been too distraught to question her further, but now, she had had a good night’s rest and was thinking lucidly.
Suspicion gleamed darkly in her eyes. Bianca leaned against the window sill and swallowed. What could she say?
Beth carried on, her breath coming faster.
“The girls at school told me that Mr O’Grady and Mr. St Just are Mafia Dons. Is that true?”
Bianca stared at her. She was a hopeless liar. Her sister read her expression correctly and her voice pitched higher as she cried,
“I saw the way they were looking at you…one of the girls at school said they SHARE a woman in bed…!”
Her eyes were round in horror as she put two and two together.
“BEE!!! IS IT TRUE THEN? ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH THEM?”
And as another thought came into the head of the young teen, she exclaimed in horror,
“Is Anna in trouble today because of YOU then? Because you got mixed up with those…those MOBSTERS???”