Owning the Mafia Don

Aiyana

The morning sunlight was filtering in through the curtains in the apartment where Aiyana stayed.

She glanced over at Schwartz who was sleeping beside her. It was early in the morning and she noiselessly slipped out of bed and padded across to the bathroom, intent on getting herself a cup of coffee after that.

A few minutes later, she was sipping her hot black coffee and checking her phone. The news from her farm, her late husband’s farm actually, made her smile. The man in charge, her trusted manager had written to inform her about two foals that had been born. He went on to talk about other matters related to the farm, mending fences, and things that went over her head. Cupping her chin in her hands, she thought of her late husband. The farm had been his baby. He had loved it.

She sighed. Aiyana was a person who thrived on the action. Farming was definitely not HER thing.

Schwartz walked in yawning hugely, clad in a pair of low slung jeans and nothing else. He had a lean and muscular physique. Aiyana smiled as he came over and dropped a kiss on her upturned face.

“Baby, you could have woken me when you were getting up.’ he smiled.

She shook her head.

“I had to check my mail…’ she said simply.

She felt a warm glow when he kissed her but there was none of the fire and passion she had seen sizzling between Proserpina and her rough Mafia Don. Those two, she mused drily, looked as though they could not keep their hands off each other.

On more than one occasion, she had felt that the Boss wanted to tear off the clothes from his wife’s body and take her there, oblivious to everyone. Proserpina seemed to be besotted by the man too whose eyes seemed fixated upon her and only, her.

She shuddered and then frowned, thinking, what would it be like, she thought, to love a man like that?

And to be loved in return in that savage almost relentless way?

“Penny for your thoughts, baby.’ smiled Schwartz who had been settled down in the chair opposite her, nursing a cup of tea. He enjoyed his tea in the morning, milky and sweet. With a smile, Aiyana thought ruefully, wasn’t it just like him?

And decided it was uncharitable to be nasty.

After all, she had just spent a long night of gentle lovemaking with this very person. But no matter how she cared for him, there was a lingering doubt in her mind; not her heart, for Aiyana thought with her mind.

She knew he loved Proserpina. It was not an infatuation as she had imagined it to be at first, it was a deep, enduring love. The man would self-destruct if he went on like this.

But she also longed to have a man in her life, especially after seeing how Delano and his wife behaved, as though they could not exist without each other.

She had seen the Boss when his wife was abducted; he had been like a mad man, uncontrollable and crazed with grief. Aiyana had had the strong suspicion that he would have gone on to kill himself if he could not bring her back.

And as for James Schwartz?

Even though he was handsome and charming and had women drooling over him wherever he went, he was blinded by his obsession with the lovely, sensuous Proserpina Delano.

As for Proserpina, she was totally, steadfastly, in love with her husband: she would never look Schwartz’s way except as a friend.

Then there was Lucien Delano. Aiyana had seen the rage and jealousy flare in his pale grey eyes, which were otherwise cold and deadly, whenever he saw any man try to be friendly with his wife. He would immediately approach his ‘woman’ as he called her and after scaring the person who had dared to flirt harmlessly with Proserpina, he would drag his wife away, to have his way with her.

It was as though he hated to see his lovely young wife with any other man, even chatting with a friendly young fellow.

Proserpina however, seemed to have a spine of steel. Although she allowed Delano to do what he wanted for most of the time, Aiyana had seen her stand up for herself and put her foot down when she had had enough. Strangely though, whenever such an occasion arose, the Big, Bad Boss had backed off quietly.Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

Aiyana knew that some men did not hesitate to share their wives; some women enjoyed having more than one lover. She had seen open marriages, but they were something she could not comprehend. Aiyana was a woman with old-fashioned ideas. Yet she was wise enough not to be judgmental.

But the Delano’s was most certainly not an open marriage. Lucien Delano would kill the opposition before his wife could even think of sharing her bed!

But James Schwartz?

She studied him over the rim of her mug, her eyes taking in the blonde curls, tousled and adorable, the keen, green eyes studying his phone as he went through the messages that were landing on his phones, the lean physique.

The blonde scruff on his unshaven cheeks only made him look cute and sexy, she thought whimsically. Not fearsome and distant unlike his mentor, the Boss.

And the unerring skills at marksmanship he possessed.

He was a sure shooter although he did not go about advertising his ability.

She had been amazed when she saw him take down Oleg that day. It had been precise and quick, a no-nonsense shooting.

She sighed and looked down at her hands. She was single and she would be turning thirty-five in a month. She was tired of being alone. Some days she would drag herself out, of bed, wondering what she had ahead of her.

And she studied Schwartz again.

She was comfortable with him.

Love?

She was not so sure of that. But James would never cheat on her. She knew that.

He was a thorough gentleman. And she was growing to love waking up in the morning to find him beside her, his long, lean body serene and tranquil as he cuddled her in his arms.

Listening to him sing Scottish ballads when she was feeling particularly grumpy, just so she would laugh at the absurdity of hearing him warbling…

Yes, knowing that come what may, he would be there beside her to hold her hand.

She bit her lower lip and stared out, thinking that it would not be a bad thing to have him in her life for a long while, like forever?

Schwartz felt her eyes on him and looked up, grinning cheerfully.

“Hey Aiy!’ he said softly, ‘You have something on your mind, baby?’

With a pang, she remembered that he only addressed Proserpina by the endearment, “Hen’ which in his native Scottish, was a term of love.

What the hell, she thought dismissively and shrugged her shoulders.

She could settle for “baby’ for now.

She looked him in the eyes and asked bluntly in her straightforward, no-nonsense way,

‘James, shall we get married?’