“It’s necessary. I want to see that bastard squirm. He needs to know what it feels like to have something valuable snatched away from him.”
He watched, like a lion holding back, waiting for the kill. Then he nodded. Once.
Klaus’s men would handle the evacuation, so he headed to the rear entrance of the parking lot with Renzo, keeping his eye out for any overzealous security.
They waited outside. Within minutes, the rear metal door burst open, a thrashing Mario Lastra being dragged out by three of his men.
“Where’s your daddy now?” he asked. Klaus stood in front of Carmello Lastra’s oldest son, the heir to his empire. He looked nothing like Isabella. Even at twenty-six, he was tall and lanky, lacking the bulk of a mature man. He was cocky, but he was also afraid—Klaus could see it in his eyes.
“What do you want from me? What’s this all about?” asked Mario.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know about the hit your father put on your sister. You’re not that naïve, are you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Where’s Isabella?”
“Ask your father. He’s the one who sent his assassination team to my house to kill my wife,” said Klaus. “Is that what the Lastra name has come down to? None of you have any honor left.”
Mario shook his head. “No, he gave her to you to create peace, not war. Killing her wouldn’t even make sense.”
“He took from me,” said Klaus. “Nobody does that and gets away with it. Now I’ll make him suffer. Destroy his marriage. Torture and kill his eldest son. Should I send him your fingers one at a time? Or maybe your eyes?”
Mario began shaking his head, panic setting in. “This is all wrong.”
The metal door opened, one of Lastra’s goons peeking out. He immediately received a bullet between his eyes, his body slumping forward onto the asphalt. Klaus turned to see Renzo tucking his gun away.
“Put him in the trunk of my car. Make sure he keeps quiet,” said Klaus. “We’re not ready to leave just yet.”
Mario was pistol-whipped and dragged toward Klaus’s car.
It was time to return to the party, to stir up a bit more drama before excusing himself. He’d already been away from Isabella for too long. Being away from her made him anxious. Until her father was dead, she’d never be safe.
****
Bella paced in front of the windows. She wanted to know what was happening. Was Klaus safe? Had he killed her father?
She’d heard him talking with his own father and brothers about using her failed assassination as an advantage. They wanted to oust her father, to humiliate and destroy him for attempting to kill her. As much as that should make her happy after what he’d done, it still made her sad things had to turn out this way. She’s always been loyal to her family, to a fault. It had all been for nothing.
Her cousin’s confirmation was going to run red—Accardi vs. Lastra. She hated that their families were enemies. Their marriage started out as a political ploy, but they’d fallen in love and there was no going back. Once Klaus killed her father, would there be war between their families again? Would the Accardis forever see her as the enemy? A woman with Lastra blood?
One day, she hoped to carry Klaus’s children. They’d become a bridge between their two worlds. Would that be enough?
She picked up a seashell from the shelf in front of her. Isabella turned it over in her hand, remembering their honeymoon, the beach, the freedom. It had been perfect, a fantasy. Her reality was something she needed an escape from, and that wasn’t a life worthy of children.
Everyone had expected their marriage to fail. They were enemies, and the wedding had been arranged. But they were more alike than anyone could have ever realized. Their mutual experiences only fueled their love for each other. She wouldn’t give up. Klaus said he’d protect her, promised he’d give her the world.
She continued to pace, restlessness not allowing her to sit and wait patiently.
When she tried to get too close to the front door, one of Klaus’s men stepped in front of her, a subtle warning that she wasn’t going anywhere.
“I need to know what’s happening.” Hours had passed. She couldn’t take the silence another minute. No one had called or updated her. The wait was driving her crazy.
“Klaus wants you safe. He gave implicit instructions.”
She rolled her eyes and headed back to the kitchen. Hired guns were commonplace in her entire life, so the patrols inside and outside didn’t unnerve her. They were only an irritation because she wanted her husband back.
A sudden bang and flurry of conversations near the entrance caught her full attention. She rushed closer, only to find Klaus, one of his brothers, and a few other men ushering in a flailing man with a black hood over his head. Was it her father? Was he going to kill him in their own home?
She wanted no part of this, couldn’t look her father in the eyes knowing his fate. Isabella froze in place, unable to take another step forward.
“Bella, go upstairs,” Klaus snapped.
Having him home gave her some sense of peace, but this wasn’t even close to over. She still couldn’t move, her feet as heavy as lead.
When Renzo pulled off the hood, she gasped aloud. It was her older brother, Mario. Why was he here? What was happening?
“Klaus?” She approached them. “Why is he here?”
“Isabella? I thought you said she was dead,” Mario shouted before her husband slapped him on the side of the head.
“No, that’s what your father believes because he called for the hit,” Klaus said. “Now I’m going to show him real pain. He may have written his daughter off, but you, no, you he values. He’s been grooming you to lead for years, hasn’t he?”
“Klaus, no,” said Isabella.
This was going too far. No, she wasn’t very close with her brothers, but that didn’t mean she wanted any
