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The ManHe stood, watching as the party unfolded. He hated the way Lucien could not take his eyes off that Woman. But the Don seemed to be following her with his eyes, protectively, caring, concerned.The Man scowled.She was heavy with child, no great beauty, he thought disdainfully. And the Boss was besotted in his old age.But the other men in the room seemed to drink her in with their eyes.Her sensuous movements, even now, were like bait. Attracting men to her. He felt sorry for that fool Ramos. He had been openly lecherous and had paid the price for his folly.***He hated her.Had hated Proserpina Martinez, the little nobody, from the first time he had met her.A simpleton, he had thought when he first met her, all starry-eyed and in love with a man who was older than her. A fool. Wait for a while, Lucien will get over her, like the other women they had used. The three of them, together.But it had not happened that way.The affair had gone on for months.Then she had run away.
With an oath, Lucien clutched his chest where the bullet had pierced him as he spun around to shield his wife from the killer who stood in the doorway.A second shot rang out, hitting his right arm, his firing arm, which now hung lifelessly as the blood-stained his shirt, seeping through to the dinner jacket he wore.Proserpina mewled a sound of pain, trying vainly to staunch the bleeding, looking around helplessly for something to bind her lover’s arm as he stood, his face grey with pain and fury as he watched the man approaching them. Turning helplessly, she stood before her husband, shielding him with her body , glaring at the man who had walked in, who was raising his arm and taking aim to fire again.Proserpina“Shark!’ I spat out,’ You despicable, evil man!’He laughed, he was on a high with substance and the thrill of having shot at Lucien, effectively crippling his shooting arm.“Despicable?’ he crooned, stepping forward, pointing his gun again at Lucien,Then coldly, he went
Proserpina Shark fell to the ground, the shot having hit him dead in the center of the forehead. But I did not care to look at him, all my attention was on Lucien as he collapsed, the gun falling from his hands as he collapsed onto the floor, ashen-faced.I tried to rise but it was too much for me; hopelessly, sobbing his name aloud, I crawled to him.The blood from his wounds was flowing freely now and ina second, my hands as I cradled his poor head, were wet and sticky.Delirious with sorrow, I crooned,“Lucien, my love, no, don’t you DARE leave me.’His eyelids fluttered but remained shut.***There was a sudden burst of noise and Schwartz raced into the room, followed by the wingmen. Someone was yelling but I was only aware of Schwartz as he gently prised my hands away from Lucien.‘Hey, hey there,' he said tenderly, lifting me to my feet.“NO!’ I screamed, refusing to let go of my lover. And clutching at his shirt with my bloodied hands, I screamed,“That …that monster shot him,
ProserpinaA few days later, I was discharged from the hospital.The baby was doing well and so was I. It was only because of Shark’s beatings that I had had to stay in hospital. I had hurt my arm when I fell, and my face was now healing. It had been a livid purple in patches, but now the bruises were fading.Lucien was still in hospital, although he was recovering, albeit slowly. The doctors had assured me that he was getting better. Yes, he had initially been in danger of slipping into a coma due to the severe loss of blood. But the speedy attention he had received had helped. The bullets fired by Shark, I was informed, had missed any major arteries. The bleeding had been intense, but he was on the road to recovery. I visited him in the hospital, although he was sedated. He did not stir when we went in, the children and I. With my heart heavy with anxiety, we set off back home.Danielle had taken charge of our security, and she was thorough about it. Lucien also had a handful of be
ProserpinaDuring the following weeks, I refrained from visiting Lucien at the hospital. I had had enough of his blow hot, blow cold behaviour. We had been together in a near-death situation, and all he could do was treat me like this? Sorry, but I was done.The kids visited him every day, but I invented excuses not to go.*There was also the matter of my work. I was scaling new heights, and the Professor was proud of me, he declared. The University had agreed to fund an extension, so I was gung-ho about launching out on a different phase as well. With Baby Claude and my academic work, I made sure that I did not have time to mope over my Mafia Don, who seemed to be playing some childish game.For one thing, I had a new assistant, a cheerful young man of Chinese origin, whose parents had settled in the US before he was born. He proved to be a great help in organising the details regarding our new set-up. Alex Wu was intelligent and witty. He often came over to help me as I also had my
LucienA few days later, after brooding and generally feeling furious and angry with himself, Lucien decided to visit the house unexpectedly. He had not informed his family; Tony Beston was the only one who had been told. Leaving his trusted wingmen in the lobby, he strode into the house and the welcoming aroma of freshly baked cookies wafted out from the kitchen.Unerringly, the desire to see his wife and children led him to the large, warm kitchen where he could hear the sound of Ria chattering away. The sound of a baby’s wails which were abruptly silenced alerted him to the presence of his youngest son. But when he reached the kitchen, he stopped short, his anger shooting up at the sight he saw.A young Chinese man, presumably the incomparable Alex Wu was in the small patio leading out from the kitchen into the tiny vegetable garden that his wife had created. She had always been one to nurture, came the thought, almost automatically. The smaller man was cradling the baby and making
Proserpina We flew out of the US in a week’s time. The children had been subdued, not really understanding what was happening. I sat them down and explained that I needed to work for a while in Japan. That it was important for me. Ria interrupted me, her lower lip thrust out and quivering, her little face hot and pink. ‘Why can't you work from here? Like you used to?’ And then, her eyes glittering as the tears spilt, she went on, on a half sob, “I want my Pappa.’ Piers was almost in tears too. I sighed and stood up, reaching for Claude who took it upon himself to begin wailing at that moment. The maids stood by, guarded and expressionless while Sandy watched from a corner, her arms folded. I could feel the censure in the air. “Was I wrong in wanting to live my life?’ I thought angrily. *** It was Lucien who came to my rescue. He spent all afternoon and the evenings at the house, with the children. His eyes had a hollow look in them, a bleakness that bothered me. He gathered Ria in
ProserpinaThe children spoke to Lucien every day, twice a day. Without fail. Even if it was midnight in the US, he would be wide awake, smiling, listening to their excited chatter indulgently. He seemed eager to hear them, to see them and terribly reluctant to stop their long conversations. We barely exchanged a few clipped words. It hurt me but I carried on with a brave face.Lucien He had hated to see them go, his wife and his children. But he had wanted her to make up her mind, to explore and to live. In his heart he knew he trusted her; she would never look at another man. Now he waited for the calls from his twins; listening to them eased his loneliness in the great mausoleum of a house that was empty and seemed devoid of noise.How had he lived here before Proserpina and the children had come and made his house a home, he wondered as he sat in the huge dining hall, eating silently.The food seemed tasteless and he had snapped at Beatrice on more than one occasion over the qual