Owning the Mafia Don

Sophie

Earlier that evening.

Sophie had been leaning against the wall, listening to the children playing. Her phone rang and she frowned. A number she was unfamiliar with popped up on the screen.

She answered.

A woman’s voice. Unfamiliar but the woman identified her by name.

‘Your mother has been shifted to another facility,’ said the voice curtly.

Sophie reached out for the wall, shock and disbelief warring in her.

‘How…? I mean, when?’ she whispered.

The last time she had checked which was that afternoon, she had been told the same thing; her mother was unconscious. So what had happened in between?

‘It was on the express orders of Mrs. Delano.’ went on the hateful voice.

‘She sent word that your mother had been treated enough; it was getting to be too expensive.’

The phone call was abruptly cut off.

Her palms sweating, her breath coming in harsh gasps, Sophie dialled the hospital.

Almost at once, she was speaking with a nurse; yes, her mother had been discharged from that particular ward and was being sent to another part of the hospital. The harassed-sounding nurse refused to divulge any more information.

Sophie stood, her head pounding.

So Proserpina Delano had given express instructions to have her mother shifted?

Sophie stormed across to the library, and at the same time, her phone pinged again. This time, it was Worthington.

‘Hello, little birdie’

She stiffened.

‘Keep an eye on Delano, that philandering bas*ard.’

He giggled and went on,

“We have sent something to his pretty little wife.”

Again the giggle that would normally make her irritated. But now, she was waiting for something terrible to happen to Proserpina.

She hated Proserpina Delano.

Sure enough, Worthington’s ruse had worked.

Sophie had hung around and had seen Proserpina come storming out of the room, clutching her phone in her hand. Sophie had watched in glee as Proserpina slammed the door of her husband’s study, yelling at him. She crept along the corridor, turning into a doorway, when she saw Beston coming out.

Old Beatrice had followed Proserpina, a worried look on her face. Beston had stopped to speak to her and Sophie had heard everything they had said.

‘…the video…Catalina…’

Beatrice had drawn a loud, shaky breath. Her next words had made Sophie understand the matter even more clearly.

‘So that woman was in bed with him and she filmed the whole thing?’ The old woman took a shuddering breath.

‘What a …’

Sophie stood, flexing her palms, smiling slightly.

Good, she thought, good…

When she had gone across to the nursery, she had seen Ria push her brother and Paddy out of the way as she grabbed the toys they were playing with. While Piers had stood up, scrambling to his feet and yelling, Paddy had dissolved in tears. It had been the last straw for Sophie.

She had always resented little Ria and seeing her nephew land on the floor was the last straw. Striding across, she grabbed Ria’s arm in a painful grip and hissed,

“You are a horrid little girl and I am not surprised that your precious Mumma is going to leave your darling, Pappa!'”

It was only after the words had fallen out of her mouth that she realized the maids were listening, shocked. The little girl’s face turned white, and then she opened her mouth and let out an unearthly wail.

Using all her strength, Ria pushed her away and began to sob loudly. She sank to the floor and the maids rushed over. They glared at Sophie in intense dislike and tried to cuddle the little girl who was now wailing uncontrollably.

Aware that she had done the unthinkable, Sophie had dragged her nephew and rushed out, meeting Proserpina on the way.

***

Now she stood, confronting Proserpina who still managed to look lovely, despite the grief that had ravaged her features.

When she began to speak, Sophie had lost it.

But the moment she said triumphantly, that Lucien was the kind who slept around, she knew she had crossed a line.

Proserpina turned white; her eyes glowed in shock and horror.

‘Why …?”

Beston appeared at the doorway.

He looked from one woman to the other in puzzlement and then said in a deferential tone, addressing Proserpina.

‘Ma’am, I need to talk to you.’

Proserpina nodded and turned away but she looked back once at Sophie and this time, her face was hard.

***

ProserpinaPlease check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

I was still reeling from the way Sophie had reacted. The worst part was, I had no idea why she was so hostile. I had never done anything to hurt her, had always treated little Paddy as one of my own children.

A hollow feeling grew in the pit of my stomach, as I led the way to my room and watched as Beston shut the door carefully behind him.

‘I…’ he began, looking uneasy.

I sighed.

“Just get on with it, Tony.’ I said, rubbing my forehead. i was almost close to weeping and I needed to comfort my poor child.

The words came tumbling out. In his clipped, precise manner, Beston described how he had given Catalina permission to enter on that horrid night after Lucien had killed a man.

His face flushed darkly as he said,

“She flashed me… and I let her in…”

I stared at him.

‘She showed you a flashlight?’ I asked, bemused.

The man glanced at me quickly as though to check if I was being sarcastic and then, lowering his eyes in embarrassment, he mumbled,

“No, Ma’am…she…uh…”

Suddenly, I caught on. Once when I was younger and out with MJ and Jeannie, the girls had mentioned a woman flashing a security guard to gain entrance into a stadium. I remember having been bewildered then till they had painstakingly explained what it meant.

Now…

Shuddering , I turned away, running my hands through my hair,

“Go on…’ I said shakily.

Beston recounted how he had rushed to the bedroom when he heard Lucien roaring, and had seen the naked woman who was obviously an unexpected, unwanted guest in the bedroom.

“You need to believe me,’ he said, his normally impassive face earnest as he pleaded.

“The Boss…he was furious.'”

And then, swallowing hard, he added,

“That woman forced herself on him, Ma’am. I know. I was there.’

I wrapped my arms around my waist and leaned my forehead against the window. I was suddenly exhausted. My back to him, I spoke.

‘You may go, Beston.’ I said dully.

There was a silence and I heard him leave.