Bred by the Mafia Monster (Breeding Season 7)

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 quick to raise their own hands to their wives if they complained. Klaus had always hated it.

When he found out about one of his father’s earlier flings, he’d wanted to kill him. That was a long time ago. Klaus knew he’d be different if he ever claimed a woman of his own. He’d devote his life to her and their children.

He could already envision Isabella ripe with their first child. One of many. He needed to breed her, keep the family going long into the future. Just thinking of his new life made him feel this child-like hope and excitement he hadn’t know in decades.

Klaus went to the powder room and ran the water over his bloodied knuckles, the red water swirling down the drain.

He wasn’t sure he could recover the night after that asshole tore her feelings to shreds. But he was patient when it came to her, and he could wait until life settled down before consummating their marriage.

“Are you okay?”

Her soft voice was right behind him. He hadn’t even heard Bella come in the bathroom, he was so lost in thought.

“Fine. Don’t worry about me.”

She reached for his hand, the water flowing over both of them. The room was too quiet. Bella carefully tended to the cuts on his knuckles, then covered them with a hand towel. “We’ll have to buy some antiseptic cream.”

“I said I’m fine.”

They turned to face each other. “Thank you for standing up for me.”

He cupped her cheek. “Don’t you dare believe anything he said. Understand me? He’s an ignorant prick, and you’re better off without him in your life.”

“My mother will be upset.”

“She turned a blind eye. Don’t worry about anyone. It’s only us now. Us against the world. You got that, Bella?”

She nodded.

He leaned down and kissed her—softly, deeply, deeper than oblivion. She melted against him. He was going to fall hard for this young girl, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Weakness wasn’t something taught to him. Empathy was to be avoided. Women were to be used, not cherished. But here he was, already falling for his virgin bride.

****

Nothing her father had said surprised her. She swore it hurt Klaus more than her. Isabella had become numb to her father’s insults. But knowing her new husband cared enough about her to risk taking revenge on Carmello Lastra was a beautiful gift.

She pulled away from the kiss, attempting to catch her breath.

“My father’s dangerous, Klaus. You should have let it go—the bruises, the insult, everything. I don’t want him to hurt you.”

Klaus smiled, running a fingertip to frame her face. He could be surprisingly gentle. She always expected the worst from men.

“I’m dangerous, Bella.”

Then his lips came back down on hers. He was deliciously thorough this time. It felt like much more than sexual desire, at least to her, anyway. She didn’t have to worry about giving herself to this man. She belonged to him now.

Klaus was her husband. And she hoped he never turned into her father.