The Mafia Don Lucien Delano was bathed in sweat.

Grunting, he pounded his opponent in the ring in his basement gym and stood, swaying as the younger man raised a hand in surrender.

‘Boss, I …you win…” he panted and Delano allowed himself a small smile.

He still worked out in the gym in the early mornings.

Mainly because Proserpina would slip away to do her yoga exercises, and then, the enormous bed felt lonely.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he turned ...