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“Only two days, Klaus. That may be a new record for the outfit,” said Marcel. “Lastra will pay for his sins tonight.”

Isabella swallowed hard. The cityscape flashed along, lights in the darkness.

“Will you do it right away?” she whispered.

“I don’t know, Bella. This isn’t how I usually handle business. However it plays out, I don’t want you watching. As soon as we get the official order, head to the car and wait for me.”

She nodded even though she felt more like screaming.

The mansion came into view and her nerves fired hot. Klaus squeezed her thigh before stepping out of the car. Only the outdoor lighting highlighted the stone paths to the house. The darkness gave the evening a more foreboding feel.

Her father was already inside the great hall. Aldo Vitcorio and his men sat in the same place as they had two days ago. Once they were all inside, the ominous doors were closed behind them.

“A decision has been made,” said the man sitting next to the Boss. “Although we find Carmello Lastra has committed heinous crimes … the restitution is owed to Isabella Accardi, not her husband. She was the intended victim.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Renzo called out.

Klaus kept his cool, stretching out his arm to control his brother.

“Klaus Accardi has no right to take Carmello Lastra’s life. This decision is final.”

The outfit stood and began to file out a back door in the grand room. Lastra stood and began laughing out loud.

“Justice!”

“Let’s go,” said Marcel, trying to usher them all away. “Now before one of you does something they’ll regret.”

She could practically feel Klaus’s blood boil. The silent stoic front was likely the opposite to what was going on inside of him. Isabella knew him too well.

“This is bullshit,” Renzo said.

“This isn’t the time to complain. The judgment has been given, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Going against the Boss’s order is a sure death sentence,” said Marcel.

“He’s a fucking monster,” said Klaus. “I don’t care if I go to hell, I’m going to cut his head off.”

She stopped in her tracks as they walked along the outside paths, pressing both palms to his chest. “No,” she said. “I won’t lose you, Klaus. Forget this. It’s over, like your father said.”

“It’s not right,” he said. “You deserve better than this. He tried to kill you, for God’s sake.”

“I know, but what I need most is you. We’ll get through this. Together. I don’t want to become another mafia widow.”

“Okay, let’s get the fuck out of here.” He kissed her knuckles and led her to the car. Her father, mother, and brothers were taking a parallel path to their own rides. She tried to avert her gaze, but her husband wasn’t doing the same.

They stood near their car, even opening the doors, but all three Accardi men stood in place.

“Don’t start anything,” she said.

If he did anything rash, his life would be null and void. She couldn’t lose him.

“Just making sure he doesn’t try anything,” Klaus said. She stood behind him, her arms wrapped around his waist. This was all a nightmare, and it wasn’t going to end tonight, either. They had a long road ahead of them.

Justice hadn’t been served. Not yet.

When her father’s laugh echoed in the darkness, a chill chased up her spine. She remembered all the times he’d laugh at her, punish her for gaining weight. Her childhood had been a shitshow, thanks to that man.

He approached their car.

“That fucker has balls of steel,” said Renzo, his hand on the butt of his gun inside his jacket.

“Behave yourselves, boys,” Marcel warned.

Her father looked like the cat who ate the canary, a cocky smirk on his face. He knew he was untouchable. “Your plans to shame me were in vain. Now you’re both fair game. I won’t be so sloppy next time.” He winked.

“Stay away from Bella. You’ve done enough damage in her life.” Her husband ensured she stayed behind him. “Move on and I won’t retaliate.”

“I know you won’t. The moment the outfit finds out you tried to lay a finger on me, you’ll be dead within twenty-four hours. Probably less.” He laughed again.

“We’ll keep the peace on our end. You do the same,” said Marcel.

Her father shook his head nonchalantly. “Not until your boy is six feet under. I still have to teach him a lesson for disrespecting me.”

Isabella knew Klaus always tucked a gun in the back of his pants. She reached down and wrapped her fingers around the familiar handle. It was cool and promised vengeance for her new family.

She pulled it free and took a step away from everyone. Immediately, she fired a shot into the sky, hoping to garner the attention of everyone leaving the mansion. She needed witnesses to ensure her husband wasn’t to blame for the murder about to take place. The first-degree murder she planned to commit.


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