All Chapters of The Mafia Don's Obsession: Chapter 571 - Chapter 580

At dinner that night, with the guests assembled, Lucien flicked a cool grey look at his wife. She looked beautiful, he thought again, with the accompanying tightening in his groin although he had just f*cked her thoroughly, a few hours ago.Resplendent in the gown that made her seem seductive and ethereal, she glided about, discreetly supervising the table. And she was HIS. Only his, he thought as he noted her slightly swollen lips, the result of his hard kisses, the mark on the pale mound of her breast that she had tried hard to cover with her hair; the mark he had left on his Woman as he sank his teeth into her soft breast as he emptied his seed in her.Kirill Gosev had not taken his eyes off Proserpina since he came, his bushy eyebrows lifting slightly as he noted that she was pregnant. He had smiled, his gold-capped teeth glinting as the introductions were made. All the Delano children had been present, and the Mafia Don ran his eyes over pride. They were a handsome lot, his four

ProserpinaWe settled down and I felt the tension knotting my stomach.“Coffee?” I asked pleasantly, my eyes on Katrina who looked as though she would burst into tears. The shrewish aunt had been grumbling and making some rather sharp remarks in her language all the way to the living room. She was now looking around, her envy written large on her sallow face.Gosev’s fiancée looked anxious.Our living room, the one we used to entertain important guests, was large and furnished with trinkets and pieces of art that I had collected painstakingly, lovingly, over the years.I sighed and clenched my fists as I wondered what sort of situation was being discussed in the study where my husband was holding a meeting. A short while later, we heard the loud rumble of engines, powerful ones as vehicles drove out from the underground basement.The rat-faced woman turned to me, her face ashen.“What is happening?” she shrieked in heavily accented English, jumping up to her feet.“I insist on being t

The Mafia Don had made arrangements to have Yuri captured and he knew that Kirill was eager to help.Then again, the way the man had practically undressed his wife as she moved around, his eyes feasting on her body, had made Lucien furious.With an oath, he rose and limped out, heading to the bedroom.*ProserpinaIt was late when Lucien came to bed. Rather, it was almost dawn when he walked in.I sat up sleepily, for I had been tossing and turning.‘Lucien…’ I began but my husband moved to me purposefully, his pale eyes glittering.He was in a dark mood, I saw at once, and he had been drinking heavily.His gaze moved to my parted lips as I nervously ran my tongue over them, gripping the front of my robe. Stepping to me, Lucien gripped my nape, a fistful of my long hair in his hands as he brought his mouth down on mine, hard and unrelenting.I felt myself tremble, the wetness flooding me with his rough caress, as his hand moved to my heavy breast, twisting my thick nipple.I gasped, m

PiersHe reached the townhouse, entering the heavily guarded entrance and going up in the elevator gliding silently to the rooms at the top. The rooms on the third floor were reserved for the Mafia Don and his family. The second floor was where the Don held his meetings and his guests stayed if at all any were in attendance. Piers knew that an Aba sheikh and his attendants were occupying a few of the rooms; Pappa had some deal going on with them and he needed to keep them close. Hence the security as well. He frowned. How would Hila manage to get in?He need not have worried.Even as he shut the door, a figure stepped out from the darkness and an arm went around his throat. He chuckled softly,“Woman, are you trying to kill me?” he asked softly, unconsciously echoing his father’s way of addressing the woman he loved.He knew it was Hila; her scent, her natural body aroma, for she did not use any fancy perfumes, surrounded him and he groaned. He was tall and lithe but she came up to hi

Proserpina “Mumma, can I help with those?’ demanded a persistent voice at my elbow, and I sighed.It was Tara.I had baked a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies for my boys who were home from their elite boarding school. But the entire batch I had baked the day before had been devoured.Now I sighed and turned to smile at Lou and Dom along with Tara, who had entered the kitchen. Tara came to me and began to help me.“Is it for Claude’s girl?’ asked Dom, who had no sense of decorum at times.I sighed. The boys were now almost as tall as me, as was Tara.“Help yourself, “I said drily, for I had seen the gleam in Dom’s eyes as he looked at the macaroons I had baked, the flavoured, delicate cookies sandwiched together with a creamy filling between them. After cooling them slightly on the baking sheet, we removed the cookies from their shells and paired them up according to their size. Tara and I had painstakingly sandwiched them together with ganache, buttercream, and jam filling to mak