Tara Drops the Bombshell

Lucien

When he finally made it home, the first light of dawn was staining the sky a pale, heavenly indigo, heralding the approach of the new day. But the Mafia Don, was unaware of the beauty of the world of nature unfolding around him; he sat in the back of his large black sedan as it glided noiselessly along the roads, with two cars ahead and two behind him as he rubbed his hand pensively across his jaw, scraping at the thick grey stubble.

His Woman used to protest when he rubbed his unshaven jaw against her skin; ‘Like being rubbed by a prickly cactus,’ she would giggle and push him away. He enjoyed the sight of her pale skin reddening under his rough caress, he thought abstractedly.

Piers had come to him along with the Capo, to discuss the news they had received. He had been in his Greenroom, having already been for a bout of boxing in the Ring at the new place, for practice. Lucien Delano was a master at practicing the ‘sweet science of bruising’.

As he rubbed the bruise he had re