Possession of the Mafia Don

Chapter 1

The evening was calm. Dusk settled over the valley gracefully, like a soft shawl tenderly wrapped around the shoulders of the mountain peaks that surrounded the tiny monastery which lay half-hidden on the slopes of the mountains.

I smiled as I straightened up, having rocked my twins to sleep. Almost two years old now, my son, little Piers drifted off to sleep almost immediately. My daughter Ria, was the stubborn one, who went to sleep unwillingly. I tucked the cotton sheet around her plump little body, dropping a kiss on her golden curls. A real fighter, I thought fondly.

Like her father, said a small voice inside me.

I sighed and stood up, wearily. This had become my home, this little monastery tucked away on the hillside of the Himalayas. The orderly, serene life of the Buddhist nuns and their unconditional acceptance had been a balm on my sore heart and when I gave birth to the children, the nuns had nursed me with tender care.

Yet the thoughts of Gaston, the man I had loved so fervently and the father of my twins, remained with me all the time. Even though we were thousands of miles apart, he remained in my thoughts all the time. Every second moment, I thought about him. Of course, looking at the children with their ice-blue eyes and mops of blonde hair was enough to make me think about him easily enough.

Those ice-blue eyes when they had raked over me, the powerful outline of his shoulders as they loomed over me as he had claimed me countless times; I even longed for his harshness, his cruelty, I thought, my eyes welling up at the very thought of the man who had been my much older and experienced lover, the father of my beautiful children although there was a huge catch there.

Gaston St.Claire had no idea that they existed.

It had taken all my courage to run away from him, to slip away into the crowds, leaving everything he had gifted me in that careless fashion of his, the little flat in the suburbs, the expensive trinkets and baubles that I had cherished, taking them, foolishly enough imagining them to be a sign of true love. I winced as I thought of what a gullible fool I had been...

The sky had bled into shades of pink, violet and orange in turn as I stared, lulled into a peacefulness, where the distant sound of birds flying home trilled through the air.

Gaston had been a don in the real sense of the word but I had ignored what he did, uncaring about how he managed such a lavish lifestyle; he kept me insulated from his world as well. But looking back now, I realised that I had been burying my head in the sand to avoid facing the truth. Gun-running and drugs, I had discovered while listening to the snippets of conversations over the phone as he lay with me after we had shared a passionate night of lovemaking. He would lie with an arm thrown carelessly around my shoulders stroking my bare skin absently while I snuggled up to him, relieving the intense bouts of lovemaking. It had shocked me at first but since I was on the fringes of his other life, never accompanying him anywhere outside the house, I was content to live in my bubble.

Every girl dreams of taming the bad boy, in this case, a man almost twenty years older than me! At the young age of eighteen, I was also under the same illusion, poor fool that I was!

When I realised that I was pregnant, I had been over the moon. Until I found out that he regarded me as just another plaything, a woman to be toyed with and discarded when he tired of the novelty...

Today the life I led in the monastery was safe and tranquil. Yet, in some hidden part of my heart, I had hoped that he would come looking for me. But as the days had become months and now it was almost two years I had gradually come to realise that I had, after all, only been his plaything of the moment. That the love, the hope I had carried in my heart was in vain...

I loved this time of the day because I could spend some time in peace, away from the demands of my twins, resting after a day of work.

In the stillness of the evening, while the nuns were at prayer, chanting, I sat quietly on the still-warm stone steps outside the monastery temple, facing the dense forest.

The gentle mountain air should have calmed me but when the image of the man who been my life, came to my mind's eye, I squeezed my eyes shut and felt the heat rise in my body. As though he was still beside me, physically. The pale blue eyes glowed with passion. His hands...

My eyes flew open.

This was wrong. I should stop torturing myself.

It was when I was alone that I allowed myself to think of him, every evening, asking myself what he must be doing, wondering who was spending the night in his arms, in his bed...and the pain still felt raw.

Even after a year and seven months.

*

I worked as an administrative assistant to the head priestess of the tiny Buddhist monastery, tucked away in the foothills of the majestic mountains. My job was simple, helping with the correspondence. It was an unpretentious life, without being in any related to the world of the wealthy in faraway USA where I had grown up, learnt so much of life.

Where I had first learnt to love passionately. Where I had had my heartbroken...

I shrugged my shoulders in resignation. I was secure now in the serene hills, my children were looked after...

*

The soft patter of bare feet on the stone floor caused me to turn around in some surprise. Rarely was I required to attend to any task after dusk. It was already time for supper.

A young nun stood in the doorway, her pretty pink face glowing as she smiled shyly at me.

"What is it, Sonal?' I asked gently for I recognized her as one of the young girls who often helped in the kitchens.

"Memsaab," whispered the young girl" someone has come to meet you."

Meet me?

I frowned in puzzlement. Who would come to meet me? It had to be about the small conclave to be held in town next week. All the arrangements had been made; I had personally spoken to the organisers but perhaps some things were remaining to be attended to.

I sighed and stood up. Perhaps, someone who wanted to discuss the arrangements for the monks who were visiting next week, their stay in the monastery further up on the hills, I thought as I followed the girl.

Wrapping my long heavy hair into a makeshift braid and tried to mould it into a messy bun at the base of my neck, I set off down the silent corridor, indicating that she need not accompany me.

I caught a glimpse of myself in one of the ornate mirrors outside the hall as I made my way along with the walled courtyard, the stones warm under my bare feet.

The image that stared back at me wasn't very flattering. Short, barely 5 feet tall, with a generously rounded figure. My body was half-hidden in the simple maroon robes that covered me, long black hair swinging in a braid as I walked. Although I had turned nineteen seven months ago, the events that had made me flee the US and the birth of my twins had honed wisdom in me. I felt older, wiser.

Brian Gaulle, the French man who was now a good friend of mine, never seemed to tire of pointing it out to me.

I felt a blush rise in my cheeks as I thought of Brian, earnest and affectionate. A devout Buddhist who had rejected his western way of living and now spent his time writing and teaching here among the serene mountains, he had made his interest in me plain. He wanted to be more than just a friend but I was wary of admitting another man in my life. True, my twins liked to spend time with him and at twenty-four, he was definitely a younger person I could laugh with, share my problems with...

But...my foolish heart still ached for the harsh, dominating older man I had run away from.

I was dimly aware of the silence in the hall, the fragrance of incense and the all-pervading sense of tranquillity as I walked toward the dimly lit waiting room. The entire atmosphere had such a calming effect on anyone who came in, I thought. Long windows, a carved ceiling, walls adorned with paintings that retold the story of the Buddha.

When I had first come here, broken-hearted and almost hopeless, this monastery had offered me shelter, unconditionally. There were times when I used to sit here in this room, weeping, praying to a Power I wasn't sure was listening to anymore.

Gradually, the love and concern of the people around me had made me a more confident person. The birth of my children had only added to the purpose of my life.

Smiling softly to myself, I entered the hall.

*

But my words of greeting died away when I saw the powerfully built man standing before the impressive statue of Lord Buddha. Dressed in a dark suit with a long overcoat, his salt and pepper head gleaming, he looked like a medieval incarnation of the Devil as his eyes burning into me, searing like hot coals.

My former lover, the one who had shattered my heart.

The father of my children.

Gaston.

It took every ounce of willpower I had, not to run to him and throw my arms around him, fervently kiss that well-shaped mouth that I was so familiar with.

He stood, the light behind him, throwing his face in shadow. But from the stillness, I knew he was alert, watching me like a hawk.

"Gaston?" I breathed trembling as joy and surprise warred within me.

He didn't respond; continued to stand there, his hands buried in his pockets, rocking slightly on his heels, watching me. Then the silence broke.

"Leave us!" His familiar raspy voice barked at two men who had been standing silently at the doorway; I had not noticed them before.

My heart sank.

His ever-present bodyguards.

Being one of the men who controlled a well-networked arms trading gang and many other such illegal businesses which I had discovered slowly but steadfastly ignored, he was always accompanied by the trusted men who shadowed him, alert and watchful. Once in my innocence, I had asked him why they were always around. His hard face had grown cold, withdrawn; the silence that followed had me quickly make some inane remark to change the subject.

But the memory of that incident lingered on.

Gaston was danger.

Now like well-trained dogs, his bodyguards glided away discreetly. But I knew from experience that they were never very far away.

Suddenly we were alone in the large hall. The man who had controlled my body and soul for a year.

I had adored him, blind to any fault in him. Loved him with the complete abandon of an eighteen-year-old.

And he was clever. Almost twenty years older than me, he must have found it was child's play to play with the heart of an adoring teenager who was devoted to him. Maybe it had amused him for a while too?

But the passion between us had been real.

Sizzling.

He had only had to look my way and I would feel the familiar ache in my belly, the longing, the wanting...A chill went down my spine. As for him, he couldn't seem to keep his hands off me; he hated to take me outside and I felt the anger in his powerfully built body if he thought anyone was paying undue attention to me. It had scared me but dazzled by his power and the love I had for him, I never thought too deeply about it.

Until it was too late.

"Come here!" He growled at me now, commanding me. I shivered at the menace in his voice and stood where I was, leaning against the closed door for support.

Not one to take insubordination, I saw his big body tense.

He barked, the threat in his voice obvious now," I said, come here!"

I raised my chin and continued to stand where I was. It wasn't defiance. It was simply that my legs would not carry me if I tried to move.

I was incapable of speaking. His anger radiated towards me in waves and I made a supreme effort not to turn and run. I willed myself to remain where I was.

In three strides he was in front of me. He stopped, breathing heavily, not touching me but close enough to make me aware of the strong odour of whiskey on his breath.

My heart sank, Gaston was even more dangerous when he had been drinking heavily and up close I saw his bloodshot eyes and unshaven, cold face. Tipping my head up, I stared at him, trying to appear calm, digging my fingers into my palms.

His eyes seemed to strip me as he asked crudely, in a low snarl,

"Whose are they?"

I had imagined this moment in many ways when I was in the mountains but never in such a harsh, cruel encounter.

Raising my head proudly, I looked him in the eye and said,

"They are MINE."

In a flash he grabbed my upper arms, squeezing them painfully as he jerked me to his hard body. He rasped

"I want to know who their father is, woman!"

"Who do you think? I was never unfaithful to you!" I answered tremulously, my eyes filling up with tears at the underlying accusation.

He made a sound that was a mockery of a laugh.

"You expect me to believe you, you little slut?"

I closed my eyes momentarily, to hide the pain his words had inflicted.

'Gaston, you're hurting me, "I whispered as the pressure on my arms increased.

"I'll show you hurt." He said brusquely, squeezing even harder, moving so that his lower body was pressing into mine. The door behind me pressed into my back but I was only aware of his muscled body, the hardness of his thighs; and then, I felt his arousal and I looked up at him, startled, my brown eyes widening.

He jeered his voice thick with desire, "Yes, you fu*****b**ch, even after all this, I want you, so help me!'

Releasing my arms, he grasped a handful of my hair in his fist winding the other arm savagely around my waist; as I gasped in pain, he brought his head down, kissing me with ferocity, grinding his mouth on mine. There was no love, no gentleness. Only a need to brand me as his.

When he raised his head, I could taste blood. He flung me away, his face mirroring self-disgust.

Breathing hard, wide-eyed with shock and a host of conflicting emotions, I watched him, touching my bruised mouth aware that I would have darkening bruises on my arms where he had sunk his hard fingers into my arms in such a brutish way.

He turned, his eyes glinting almost evilly in the feeble lighting. His eyes dropped to my heavy breasts, the nipples clearly outlined through the coarse cloth of my gown because he still had the power to arouse me, even with his cruelty. With a low growl, he came close, roughly fondled my breasts, his mouth feverishly moving over my throat, nipping, biting like and like a fool, I felt myself responding, surrendering to him. When he reached a hand in through the robes, parting my legs, seeking my womanhood, I suddenly regained a semblance of my wits.

"No, 'I cried in panic struggling as he imprisoned me in his arms, and I realized what he intended to do. "No, Gaston, not here, please!" and I pushed at his iron chest with all my puny might.

Ignoring my urgent pleas, he continued and in sudden desperation, I slapped him hard across the face.

He stopped and as I became aware of what I had done, I shoved him away and moved to safety, standing behind an ornate table in the centre of the room, trembling with shock and fear, hugging myself.

Gaston turned to me slowly, a livid mark on his face where I had slapped him.

"So the kitten has got claws now?" he murmured coolly, eyes glinting savagely, and I quaked at the threat in his voice.

He touched his cheek reflectively and began circling the room, no sign of the aroused man who had attacked me just a few minutes before.

While I stood there, dishevelled, my emotions all over the place, pulling my robes around me tightly, desperately clinging to my sanity.

"You haven't answered me," he went on, stopping before an exquisite sculpture of the Buddha, his back to me. "Whose are those b*****ds?"

I stayed silent for a while, swallowing my humiliation and then,

"You know I did not sleep with anyone else, when I was with you, "I said in an unsteady voice, hurt beyond words, my eyes filling as I looked up at his powerful shoulders, willing him to meet my eyes.

Turning, he came to stand before me, his fists deep in his coat pockets, his eyes boring into my soul as it were and snarled,

"So say it, damn it! I want to hear you say it! '.

"They are your children," I said stiffly, my shoulders held high, mustering all the dignity I could hugging my waist with my arms.

A strange look passed over his face, a look of triumph and I tried to look away as his eyes moved over me, raking my face, my body, a look of ownership, of possession that left me weak at the knees.

"Why...'I babbled, 'Why did you...I mean, why have you come...?'

Gaston moved closer and I shrank, feeling the wall against my back.

"No woman leaves me. I tell the women I fu*k to get the hell out of my life when I tire of them.' He spoke softly but the fury behind his words was apparent.

I stared at him, my breath coming rapidly.

Raising a hand to my face, he touched my cheek, moving a finger to my mouth, tracing the plumpness of my swollen lips tantalisingly, with a slow, igniting touch as he went on in a growl,

"You, a slip of an eighteen-year-old, you tried to run away from me little girl? Did you think I would let you off so easily?'

The threat in his voice was unmistakable and I stared up at him, hypnotised. He loomed closer and I put up my hands, pushing ineffectually at his chest and even in the dimness of the room, I saw the flash of desire on his face before the cold mask came on.

"I'm not going to f*** you in this room." He sneered and went on, conversationally, watching me, "But I don't believe you, you little liar. I need to get a test done. A paternity test."

Shocked, I gazed up at him stupidly as he went on, stepping closer, crowding me in, and his breath coming raggedly as he went on,

"I'm a rich man as you may have discovered. I don't want some b******* landing on my doorstep, claiming to be mine, sometime in the future.' He flicked a finger at my swollen mouth and I winced at the deliberate hurt, frowning in disbelief.

"When you're not so young and desirable' he went on, running his eyes over my body slowly, seeming to undress me, "and there are no takers for this lush body... '

He moved even closer if that was possible, bridging the gap between us, breathing hard; now the tips of my breasts pressed against his chest. (Dear God! He has the power to make me want him even when his hate for me is evident, I thought in despair.); his eyes intent on my hard nipples but with his hands still shoved in his pockets, he rasped,

'You might think of making some easy money. Foisting someone else's dirty b******* on me.", he growled, the menace in his voice evident.

The ugly words, the unjustness of it all, incensed me and without thinking, I raised my hands to claw his face; with a swift movement, he captured my hands easily enough but not before I had scratched his cheek, leaving a small cut on his chin. He laughed in surprise and I felt his arousal as I struggled, while he pinned my arms behind me, my body forced against his again. I was panting and flushed with rage and his eyes travelled leisurely over my face, dropping to my robe that gaped open, revealing my heaving breasts. Memories of how he used to make love to me, sucking, biting me, made me take in a sharp breath.

His heavy-lidded eyes seemed to glimpse my weakness. The resistance that I had shown seemed to intrigue and excite him, I realized with a sinking heart and I bowed my head in dejection.

'You've changed,' he growled softly, breathing harshly,' and I'm going to enjoy taming you."

That brought my head up sharply, and I cried in alarm, "NO!"

Twisting my captive wrists cruelly, his hard chest pressing against my softness, he bent his head to my mouth and whispered." I am going to get a test done. For that, I am taking your b******s with me, NOW. "

I shook my head in protest, my eyes pleading with him.

"No!" I half sobbed. 'Gaston, please, don't do this!'

Breathing heavily, his body touching mine, he said in a harsh whisper,

"You said those kids are mine. So I have the right to take them with me IF I'm their father. Besides, I need to find the truth, are they really mine?"

And then, silkily, his mouth hovering inches away from mine, he added,

' I'm taking them with me. Whether you come or not is your choice. And no one can stop me from doing that.'

And then he stepped back coolly and strode out throwing the words over his shoulders as he went,

'Make the arrangements. Those kids are leaving tonight with me in an hour."

I sagged onto the cool floor as I saw that I had no choice but to go with him...