“I wanted to meet the father of my child…”

Lucien

He began to make his way slowly through the milling throng of his guests to where his Woman was standing, in a daringly backless gown, her beautiful body making his staff harden with desire. Ria and Tara had chosen the slinky gown for her. When Proserpina had protested in embarrassment, her hands on her pink cheeks, the girls had declared,

‘Mumma! Even after eight kids, you still look WOW!’

It had been one of those rare weekends when Tara had come home. Ria had little Jamie on her lap, jiggling the fat little girl who was cooing at her Pappa, for the Mafia Don was hands down, her favourite person. Jamie was the apple of the Don’s eye, as Ria often teased her father.

Lucien, who had been in the bedroom working on his phones and tablet, had been watching them in amusement.

After the heart attack, mild though it had been, he had taken to spending time at home, working from his office or sometimes, his spacious bedroom.

‘Please…but it’s BACKLESS!” Proserpina had gone on, her eyes m