Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
As soon as he spotted Isabella’s mother, he separated from his date and headed directly over to her, weaving around the throng of guests. “Mrs. Lastra.”
“Klaus, good to see you here. Where’s Isabella?”
He took her by the elbow, a bit firmly to make a point. She walked with him as he led her away from the crowd. “You know more than you let on. Who do you know that would want to humiliate me? Who do you know that would send an assassin to my home to kill my wife? I know everything happening in my house. Shouldn’t your husband know his, as well?”
She looked up at him, horror in her eyes.
“You’re just as much to blame as him, Mrs. Lastra. Turning a blind eye all these years led to this. Look at him over there smiling and greeting guests. He loses no sleep knowing his daughter is dead. She always disappointed him, didn’t she?”
“Dead?”
He walked away from her before she could mutter another word. She knew damn well who was capable of the murder. Her husband was a monster.
Now he just needed to bide his time. He watched her scamper off to the foyer, pushing through people with disregard. Watching her animate with her arms as she spoke to her husband guaranteed she was giving him a piece of her mind. They disappeared into a room behind the main entrance.
He made eye contact with Renzo.
His brother jutted his chin to the left. As soon as he looked over his shoulder, one of Lastra’s soldiers approached him. He clapped Klaus on the shoulder, but he shrugged him off.
The prick leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Shame about your pretty wife. I wonder what will happen when the world finds out what you’ve done.”
Klaus whirled around, grabbing him by the neck, ignoring the gurgling sounds and hands clawing at his wrists. How dare he even suggest he’d kill his own wife. His beautiful Isabella.
“There are no enemies here tonight,” said Renzo, shoulder butting him. Their father always called him the peacemaker. “This isn’t the place, Klaus. We have plans, no?”
He came to his senses, releasing his grip on Lastra’s soldier. It went against his better instincts, but he had to keep his wits if he wanted to outsmart Carmello tonight. The guy ran a hand over his throat, then adjusted his jacket.
“Watch what you say. I have a good memory,” said Klaus.
The other man opened his lapel just enough to brandish his handgun.
“Is that supposed to scare me, you piece of shit?” He bolted forward, only to hit Renzo’s outstretched arm. “You can’t hide in here all night.”
Klaus backed off, walking away with his brother, checking over his shoulder every few steps. As he noted the Accardi presence in the hall, his nerves calmed slightly.
“What are you doing?”
“He knew about Bella. I killed everyone who came to my house that night. How many others think she’s dead?”
“Doesn’t matter. Keep to the plan.”
“Lastra’s in the back with Bella’s mother,” said Klaus.
“Good. Where’s Veronica?”
He ignored his brother, his eyes on the prize. Klaus wasn’t the only one who’d noted Mario drinking and laughing with his friends. His own soldiers were closing in, the little shit oblivious to their presence. They moved like a pack of wild cats, entrapping their prey, closing in foot by foot.
“We should wait, Klaus,” said Renzo. “If the mother makes a big enough scene, none of this will be necessary.”
“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.”