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Bred by the Mafia Monster
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Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2021 Sam Crescent and Stacey Espino
ISBN: 978-0-3695-0337-4
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: Audrey Bobak
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
BRED BY THE MAFIA MONSTER
Breeding Season, 7
Sam Crescent and Stacey Espino
Copyright © 2021
Chapter One
“This will benefit everyone. No more bloodshed. Just peace between our families.”
Klaus Accardi listened to the leader of the Lastra family offer up his peace offering. It didn’t come as a surprise. The latest war had cost them on each side. The streets had run red with blood, all in the name of honor. Lastra didn’t have much else to give. They had money, businesses, but this war, it was killing them.
“You know the only way to guarantee peace is through marriage,” his father, Marcel, said.
Klaus remained tense.
Fuck.
He knew exactly where this was leading. Rather than look toward his younger brothers, he stayed perfectly still.
He would do what was necessary for his family.
“I have a young daughter, Isabella.”
“We’re many things, Lastra, but pedophiles isn’t one of them,” Marcel said.
“She’s eighteen and has already finished school. She’s a beauty … in her way.” The old man ran a hand down his face.
“Then let’s meet her,” Marcel said.
Lastra nodded to his guard and the man left the room. “I’m sure we can come to a peaceful arrangement.”
“What I want to know is what’s wrong with your daughter that you haven’t arranged her marriage yet. Eighteen in your culture is old, isn’t it?” Marcel asked, mocking their enemy.
“Don’t believe every rumor you hear.”
“So your wife wasn’t sixteen when you married?”
Klaus wasn’t interested in taunting this man. He wasn’t scared. The Lastra family were a bunch of pussies.
Silence filled the room.
The anger flowed off Lastra. He could feel it, but no one cared what the old man wanted.
“What is keeping that girl?” He stood up as the door opened, and there stood Isabella Lastra.
Klaus didn’t know what he was expecting. A delicate woman in a tight short dress, heavily made up, just waiting to be pawned off. No, instead, flour dusted one cheek, the jeans and shirt she wore hung off her body, they were that big. Her raven hair was bound on top of her head in a loose knot. She looked fucking stunning, no doubt about it, and there was no mistaking the fire behind her gray eyes. Her lips were pressed together in a thin line, clearly annoyed with being pulled away. Still, Isabella must be well trained as she kept her thoughts to herself. Her hands were tightly clenched though, another telltale sign given away.
To some men, she would appear completely undesirable.
He wasn’t most men.
He liked a challenge, and she posed a most beautiful one.
At thirty-eight years old, he’d experienced his fair share of women, and yet, no one had ever set his blood ablaze as fast as this peach had. His cock hardened at the thought. Most of their men liked meek women, afraid of their own shadow. Not him. No. He knew he would never be able to stay married to a woman who jumped at every move he made. They were even frightened to be kissed. Years of being forced to remain a virgin, listening to horror stories, no wonder the women freaked out.
It was fucking insane.
Raking his gaze down Isabella’s body, he saw she wasn’t a slender woman. Even with the oversized clothes, her curves beckoned him. There was no denying the roundness of her hips, the fullness of her tits. He’d love to check out her ass, but that would be rude. He didn’t want to show the instant hit of desire he had for her either.
Lastra stood up and moved toward his daughter. “Sweetheart, I’d like you to meet Marcel and Klaus Accardi.”
His brothers didn’t get a single mention.
“Well, Marcel?” Lastra asked.
Klaus looked at his father. He didn’t appear too eager, but he knew what was expected of him.
“Yes, I think we can come to some arrangement.”
“Isabella, I’d like you to meet your fiancé,” said her father.
Klaus stayed perfectly still.
“Go and introduce yourself.”
She tensed up as her father nudged her in his general direction. It wasn’t lost on anyone in the room that Lastra would send his daughter across the enemy lines toward them. Isabella didn’t stop though. She went to him and held out her hand. Well trained like most young women in their fucked-up culture.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She was the perfect specimen of gentleness, but he saw her hand shake.
Compared to him, she was so small, delicate.
He gripped her hand, swallowing hers up in his, and offered her a smile. “Likewise.”
“Excellent. Isabella, run along. Tell your mama we need her for the necessary arrangements.”
Isabella turned her back on him and walked away.
Damn, he was right. A nice, lush ass. He couldn’t wait to have her naked and beneath him. Her body was made for fucking, and if truth be told, made for breeding. Since Klaus had turned thirty-eight, his father had been nagging him to settle down and produce an heir. With Isabella, he could deal with multiple problems all at once. Rather than be horrified at the thought of being married to her, excitement flooded him.
He wanted to marry her. To have her in his bed, once and for all.
She left the room, the door closing behind her.
“Let’s get to the finer details,” Lastra said.
“The wedding must take place by the end of this week,” Marcel said.
Lastra turned red. “You know that’s not possible.”
“I don’t care about the finer details. The only way to stop this war is by having a marriage soon. Also, I’d like my son to go and talk with Isabella now. This arrangement must suit him in every way. I’ve heard about the rumors when it comes to the daughter you’re passing off to my son. You know my son’s reputation!”
“I know what they call him.”
Mafia Monster. It was such a fucking corny name. He couldn’t stand it, but it was the name he’d been granted since he was a young man, and well, when his rage was released, a monster took his place.
“What rumors?” Klaus asked.
“My daughter has had a few … weight troubles.”
“They called her the Lastra Ton!”
“As you can see, she has been dieting and there is nothing wrong with her. A healthy eating plan, plenty of exercise, which I’m sure your son will keep in check.”
“She is faulty,” Marcel said. “You insult me.”
Klaus touched his father’s arm. “Arrange the details, Father.”
“You deserve the best. Not some fat cow. Do you have any idea what kind of reputation you’re going to get marrying her?”
“She will do.” He’d never cared about his own reputation before now and he wasn’t about to start.
Isabella and her mother joined them back in the room. What he didn’t know was how much she’d heard. From the look on
Isabella’s face and the heat in her cheeks, she’d heard a great deal, and even as she tried to hide it, he saw the pain in her eyes.
“I hear we’re celebrating good news,” her mother said.
Lastra looked toward them. “Is it good news?”
He looked at his father and nodded. Another few seconds’ pause, and Marcel smiled. “Yes, it is.”
“Isabella, why don’t you show Klaus around while we negotiate other matters,” Lastra said.
She nodded, the motion jerky.
She hadn’t changed her clothes, but her cheek had been cleaned of the flour.
Klaus moved toward the door, aware of his brothers moving in his direction. He held up his hand, stopping them. He didn’t need anyone to fight his battles. He was able to take on whatever the family threw at him.
Isabella walked down the long corridor. There were no guards, but he imagined others watched.
She pointed out the dining room, another sitting room, a party room, and a movie room. They got to a door at the end of the long corridor and she stepped inside. “As you can see, this is the library. There are lots of good books to read.”
“I really don’t give a shit about what kind of house you live in.” Klaus watched her as she pushed some of her hair out of her eyes.
“What would you like to see?” she asked.
“It’s more about what I want to know.”
She took a deep breath, glancing around the room before turning to look back at him. “What exactly do you want to know?”
Isabella was a natural beauty. She really wasn’t like any other woman a mafia family would throw at him. They usually went out of their way to show how appealing they could be, almost vulgar in marrying off their daughters.
Isabella held a finesse about her, but she wasn’t using it. She folded her arms beneath her chest and glared at him.
He smiled as she kept trying to bring her poker face up, but it wasn’t working, not even a little bit.
Isabella had a well-concealed temper as well. She’d just made this future marriage somewhat exciting.
****
The Lastra Ton had been her father’s last straw. From the time she was a little girl, her father had never been happy with the way she looked. A year ago, after the humiliation when one of the men called her that, he’d put her on an extreme diet. She was basically banned from eating. Everything she put in her mouth had to be vetted by him.
For a year, she’d been starving.
The only reason she had flour on her face was because that was what she was allowed to do, prepare food with Misha, their family cook. Misha couldn’t feed her any food either. There was a guard who had no choice but to watch her constantly.
Between the starvation and the constant, grueling workout schedule, she’d lost a lot of weight, still not nearly enough to satisfy her father. Weekly weigh-ins and measurements were what she’d had to deal with the past year.
The one good thing to come out of it was that she was fitter than ever. Spending time landing punches on a bag had meant she no longer had punishable outbursts. Her father wasn’t above hitting his children, especially in anger.
She’d been slapped plenty of times.
Klaus didn’t say anything. He merely stared at her. “You want to know if you’re going to run out of food, is that it?” After her father’s revelation of her upcoming marriage, and knowing she was considered faulty, she couldn’t take the silence. “Don’t worry, I have good control over my eating habits. I’m pretty sure you’re going to get a lot of pity for having to settle with me.”
“Did I once say I was settling?”
“I can see that you are.”
“So you’re implying that I can do better than you.”
She gritted her teeth. “Just tell me exactly what you want.”
He smiled. “You’re not used to this, are you?”
“To what?”
“Having to be nice to men.” He walked past her and she tensed up, spinning around to keep him in her sights.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You do. This marriage gig is new to you. I imagine your father has kept you isolated.”
“My father doesn’t like me around. I humiliate him too much.” She took a step toward the door.
“This marriage between us could be easy or hard.”
She turned toward him. “The only reason this marriage is going ahead is because our families can’t take another bloodbath. You hate my family, and my family hates yours. You and I are nothing but pawns.”
“Do you hate me?” he asked, taking a step toward her.
She stayed perfectly still, tense, watching him, waiting for him to strike. “I don’t know you. I only know what you’re capable of.”
“Ah, those vicious rumors. Aren’t you tired of rumors?”
He was getting closer, and with each step he took, her nerves grew. She didn’t know what he wanted from her, and that terrified her more than anything else. No matter what her father subjected her to, she was used to it. With this man, his reputation alone was enough to send the best people running for the hills.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I heard all of those rumors about you, and yet here I stand. I don’t see anything wrong with you at all.”
She frowned, looking at him. Just this morning, her father had thrown a breakfast plate at her. Her weigh-in had shown she hadn’t lost anything, which fucking sucked more than anything seeing as she’d started skipping meals to try to please him.
“I think it’s time we should start heading back.” Isabella tried to brush past him, but he captured her arm, pulling her close to him.
“They won’t be finished with negotiations. Nowhere near close.”
“Get your hands off me.” She pressed a hand to his chest, somewhat shocked by how muscular he felt beneath her palm.
With all that strength, he still didn’t hurt her. There was no pain in his touch. She paused, not fighting him.
“You’re not supposed to touch me,” she said, trying to find the right words to tell him to back off, but she had nothing. “Not until after the marriage.”
“You really think our families would care at this point? They’d be happier if I fucked you right now and put my Accardi baby inside you.”
She glared at him and tugged at her arm. Much to her surprise, he let her go. She didn’t run away. “You shouldn’t be talking to me like that.”
“You want me to treat you like you’re thick and stupid?”
“No!” The word snapped out of her before she could stop it. “You should treat me with respect. I will be your wife. Not your … whore.” Sickness swirled within her gut and she started to feel a little light-headed. Skipping breakfast and lunch today might not have been the best idea. She also wasn’t close to water. Whenever she felt sick and in need of food, she often drank sips of water to help stop her from wanting it.
Licking her dry lips, she turned away from him and put a hand to her stomach to try to control herself. She was supposed to be putting on a good show.
“I’m not asking for a whore, but if you want a life like our families’, then tell me now.”
She took a deep breath and looked back at him. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Isabella glanced at the door, and he followed her gaze. They were alone. “You shouldn’t be talking to me like that. I don’t have experience with men.”
He stepped toward her and this time, she backed away from him. Klaus kept on coming though. She couldn’t stop him. He was everywhere. He slammed his hands on either side of her head, pinning her against the wall.
“Do you want a marriage where I don’t give a fuck about you? I’d treat you like trash. Screw my way around half of the whores. Take a mistress. Hit you. Beat you, but above all else, use you to give birth to my kids. Nothing more than a breeding machine.”
The picture he played brought tears to her eyes. Most of the women in her life ha
d to live that exact nightmare. Was it her future, too?
She went to open her mouth, but all of a sudden, her stomach betrayed her and made the most awful noise, groaning with hunger. She placed a hand over her middle and tried to hide the noise. His gaze went to her hand.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said.
He didn’t move.
“I don’t want a marriage—”
“You’re hungry.”
“I’m not!” She snapped out the words, and this time, she tried to cover her mouth. All her life, she’d been trained in how she should behave around men like Klaus. Her father would surely put the belt to her if he heard her tone.
“I can fucking hear it. When was the last time you ate?”
“It doesn’t matter.” It was on the tip of her tongue to lie, but as she tried to, she couldn’t seem to bring the words in his direction. He didn’t deserve to be lied to.
“When!”
She looked at him and waited, hoping he’d get bored.
He grabbed her wrist and started to walk her toward the door. Panic filled her.
“No, please, no. Don’t say anything.” She tried to dig her heels into the carpet. “Yesterday!”
This made him stop, but he didn’t let her go.
Gritting her teeth, she tried not to squirm beneath his intense stare, but that was next to impossible. He kept on looking at her, and she didn’t know if he liked what he saw, not that she should care.
This wasn’t going well.
“I don’t want a marriage like our parents. I’ll … I’ll be good to you, I promise. I won’t embarrass you, but please, let me go.”
“I’m taking you to the kitchen to get some food.”
She shook her head. “No, please. I’m not allowed. I think you should go back to your father, so you can be part of the negotiations.”
He didn’t move.
“Please,” she said.