He exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
The family home reminded him of his mother. Now it was cold and lacked a soul. He was glad to have his own home with Isabella. Soon, it would be full of life and children.
“I’ll handle everything. Stop worrying yourself. You’ll have a fucking heart attack.” He grabbed the contract from the table and leafed through it.
“Because of you.”
His father dropped down into an armchair, his fire doused. Once upon a time, Klaus had looked up to him. He was a god, powerful, in control, and had his hand on the pulse of the city. Now he was tired and lacked any passion. Klaus may have to take over sooner rather than later. People would talk, and the sharks would smell blood. They had to present a strong, united front no matter how much things were crumbling behind the scenes.
“Are you sure you want to handle this one?” asked Renzo.
“It’s what I do.”
This contract was for a paid kill. A deal had gone wrong and someone with money wanted revenge. He rarely bothered to look too deeply. If they paid, and it didn’t involve anything personal, he’d get it done. Klaus preferred to be the one to get his hands dirty over his younger brothers.
His father was pushing Renzo and Carlo to become more involved in the family business. Klaus wouldn’t allow Carlo the freedom to even jerk off. He wanted him to finish university and make something of himself. Renzo was already waist-deep in this bullshit, but Klaus still tried to minimize his involvement when possible.
He often wondered how he’d feel about his own sons wanting to continue their empire. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it and chose not to think on it too hard.
“We can do it together. It would be faster,” said Renzo.
“It looks like you’re about to have a good meal. Enjoy it. Our father needs you to keep him calm.”
He walked over to the armchair and kissed his father on the forehead before leaving the house. Klaus longed for the day they could have a good Sunday family meal together with Isabella by his side. The way things were going, that dream was fading away quickly.
As he got into his Mercedes, he tossed the file onto the passenger seat and squeezed the wheel with both hands. There would have been peace between the families, but there wouldn’t be because Lastra had to die. He wasn’t sure when he’d do it, but Klaus just couldn’t let it go. He’d crossed the line, harming his promised bride. The one he was falling in love with.
Love was an illusion in their world. Everything was about money and power. He’d found something rare and special with Isabella, and he’d protect that at all costs.
His cell phone rang as he drove away from the house.
“Klaus.”
“What is it, Bella?” He planned to grab some dinner and bring it home. Klaus had been handling business since nine in the morning. Hearing her voice put him at ease.
“My mother called.”
“And?”
“They’ve invited us to dinner this weekend.”
“They?”
“Yes, she said they both want us to come,” said Isabella.
The old piece of shit couldn’t even try to take him out on the down low? Klaus wasn’t stupid enough to walk straight into the dragon’s den.
“Bad idea, baby. For me and for you. Every time I mention your father, you still clam up.”
“Wouldn’t it be perfect to make peace? Then I wouldn’t have to worry about him hurting you.”
“What about me wanting to hurt him? I haven’t forgotten what he did to you, and I never will. Don’t ask me to forgive and forget because it’s not going to happen.”
Silence on the line.
“Can you at least think about it?”
“Okay. I’ll be home within the hour. Hungry?”
“Yes, I’ve been waiting for you. I miss you.”
His cock hardened just thinking of her there alone in the house. She was the one thing keeping him going every day. He wasn’t sure how he survived this superficial world before she came into his life. She grounded him, gave him purpose beyond money and death.
He pulled his car along the side of the road in front of his favorite pizzeria. His father insisted on gourmet meals every night, keeping a full-time chef in the house. Klaus wasn’t nearly as high maintenance. Sometimes Bella would cook because it was something she loved to do. She said she didn’t want a chef or maid. They both wanted something different out of life, simpler.
Klaus ordered their dinner—pizza, pasta, and garlic bread with cheese.
As he waited for the food, one of his longtime informants approached him.
“Klaus, can I talk to you for a sec?”
He nodded, heading outside to the alleyway beside the pizzeria. There wasn’t much lighting and they could speak in private. He always paid cash for good information.