Bred by the Mafia Monster (Breeding Season Book 7), Sam Crescent [red white and royal blue hardcover .TXT] 📗

kept his cool. He wasn’t so easily baited. When he was ready to exact his revenge, it would happen. Not a second sooner.

“You must have balls of steel, old man. It’s been a long time since a man dared to challenge me. And they’re not around to tell about it, either.”

“Don’t forget, this wedding is more a political move than anything else. I have no love for you or your family,” said Lastra.

“And no love for Isabella, it seems.”

“Would you?” Lastra asked.

“I married her. What the fuck do you think?”

Lastra laughed, then coughed. “You fool no one. I know your father pressured you to marry my daughter in the name of unity. It was an obligation, not a choice.”

“Call it whatever you want. Tonight, I get to fuck your daughter, and one day, I’ll take over your empire.”

He started to laugh again, but this time Klaus pulled out his switchblade, pressing it to the old man’s throat from behind. He whispered in his ear. “You’re weak, a relic, and people laugh behind your back. The only good thing that ever came from you was Isabella. And I’ve taken that from you.”

“Be careful.”

“You take me for one of your puppets. I’m not. I’ve already started preparations to take over the Accardi family business. If you thought my father was unreasonable, you’re in for a surprise.”

“So this wedding is for nothing?”

He stepped back. “Peace is only a veneer to keep business under the radar. Too much bloodshed draws attention. But nothing about this marriage changes my thoughts about the Lastra family. If anything, you have more to worry about.”

This time, he grabbed her father by the scruff of the suit collar and pulled him closer to Isabella. He knocked him down to his knees.

“Beg her for forgiveness,” Klaus said. “Your life is in her hands now. If she wants you dead, I won’t give a fuck about peace.”

“How dare you humiliate me like this. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“I know exactly who I’m dealing with,” Klaus said “A pathetic piece of shit who has to raise a hand to his own daughter. A daughter promised to me.”

Klaus shoved him forward, and Lastra had to use a hand to keep from toppling over.

“It’s okay, Klaus,” she said. “He doesn’t have to.”

Why did her father still have such a hold over her? He could feel her fear when she should finally be free.

“No, Bella. Don’t try to protect him.”

She kept silent.

This time, he grabbed Lastra by the hair, holding his head back. “Apologize now!”

“I’m sorry you were ever born.” Lastra smirked at her. “You’ve been nothing but an embarrassment and the only one who deserves you is my enemy.”

With that, Klaus pistol-whipped him at the side of the head. The bastard fell to the side, losing consciousness.

“Leave, Bella. Wait in the other room.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want you to see this.”

She began to breathe too heavily. “You can’t kill him, Klaus. Please don’t do this.”

He clenched his jaw down hard, attempting to keep his cool around his new bride. “I promise I won’t kill him.” Then he jutted his chin, urging her to comply and leave the area.

Once she was gone and the bedroom door was closed tight, he returned his attention to the mafia kingpin. He’d regained consciousness, shaking it off.

Klaus straddled the man, giving him a few hard blows to the face and chest. Lastra attempted to block his punches, trying to roll him off. The more he fought back, the more pissed off Klaus became. He got to his feet, using both hands to beckon Carmello to join him.

“Come on, I’m a big boy. You like to hit little girls. Now, hit me, motherfucker.”

“You’ve already dug your grave.”

They swung more punches, but Klaus was bigger, younger, stronger, and didn’t give a fuck if he lived or died. It had always been that way. They were all going to die, so why fear it?

A vase on the hall table crashed to the ground as he put Bella’s father in a chokehold, his bicep cutting off his air. When he tapped out, Klaus pushed him away and spat to the side.

He glanced at his bloodied knuckles and felt that unique satisfaction he always got when delivering vengeance. This was sweeter than most.

“You should have kept your hands to yourself,” he said. “Now clean yourself up before you go back down to the party. I wouldn’t want the guests to think my father-in-law is a pussy.”

He smoothed out his jacket.

Klaus called Lastra an old man, but in reality, he was only in his fifties. Younger than his father and not too much older than him. He wasn’t small or frail by any means. He was pretty sure the head of the Lastra family had never been disgraced in this way before, and he damn well deserved it. Although he knew he’d still be furious every time he saw Bella’s bruised skin, he had to think of the future now. His wife was terrified. This wasn’t how their wedding night should be playing out.

A few minutes later, Lastra came out of the bathroom, holding a wad of tissue to his lip. No words were spoken, but if looks could kill, Klaus would be dead and buried.

He locked the door once Bella’s father left the hotel room.

This probably wouldn’t be the end of this, but their families had been enemies long before he was born, so it was nothing new. Their union would still bring peace to the families so they could focus on making money and not wiping each other out.

Now he had to face Isabella. Isabella Accardi. He liked the sound of that.

Her father had thrown out one last brutal insult, and he could only imagine how much it hurt her to hear from her own father’s lips. Or was she used to it?

He hated that she had to endure any of this, but the future was going to be much different. Many of the men in the families kept mistresses and were