Bred by the Mafia Monster Read online

  “You’re all mine, Bella. Mine to fuck. Mine to please.”

  “Yes!”

  “I won’t stop breeding you until you’re ripe with my baby, Bella. Tell me you want my dick. Say it out loud.”

  “I want your big dick, Klaus. I want it all.”

  He loved the sound of his name on her lips. Ramming into her, he leaned over enough to hook his arms under her shoulders. They kissed and fucked. It was filthy and perfect. On and on, he pistoned his hips until her body started twitching. She was so close.

  “Come for me, Bella. Come all over my dick.”

  She panted, her fingers combing into his hair before she pulled hard. He grit his teeth as she milked his cock, bringing his own release to the surface. Klaus filled her with cum, pumping every last seed inside her.

  They were both winded.

  He helped her carefully up and to her feet. “It’s still early. I’ll take my time with you tonight.” Klaus kissed her one last time before they got back into the car. No matter how much he tried to distract her, he knew Bella was going to be thinking about the coming judgment. But he’d do everything in his power to ease her burden.

  ****

  Only two days had gone by before they had their answer. She expected the deliberations to take weeks or longer. She supposed Aldo Vitcorio could see right through her father like everyone else. Tonight, she’d hear the announcement that her husband was free to murder her father. No repercussions.

  It had to be done, no matter how much of a bad taste it left in her mouth. She thought of her mother, her brothers, and everyone else in the Lastra family. Her father’s absence would be felt through generations, but if he lived, he’d make sure to ruin their lives. He’d kill her or Klaus the first chance he got—and make it look like an accident.

  “Ready?”

  Klaus was dressed to the nine, and she had to remind herself it would be inappropriate to strip him naked and fuck him one more time before leaving. Everything about her husband turned her on, body and soul.

  “I’m ready,” she said. Today, she wasn’t dressed to attract attention. She wore a long black dress and matching overcoat with low heels. Klaus had braided her hair. It wasn’t perfect, but he was sweet to try.

  They made their way to the waiting car. His father and Renzo were up front, so they sat in the backseat, holding hands the entire way.

  “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.

  “What are you doing, Isabella?” Her father’s grin was replaced with a serious expression. She trained the gun directly at him. “You heard the judgment.”

  “I did. Didn’t you? The retribution belongs to me alone.” She lined up her sights and pulled the trigger. Her body jolted back, but Renzo caught her. When she opened her eyes again, Klaus was taking the gun out of her hands. A crowd of onlookers circled the body.

  “Justice has been served,” said one of her uncles from the Lastra family.

  There would be no retaliation for what she’d just done. It was her right. She had to protect her family.
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  Klaus tucked the gun back in his pants and helped her into the car. The crowd was eerily quiet. She refused to make eye contact with any of her relatives. Isabella wouldn’t allow anyone to shame her or make her feel guilty for this. He’d tried to kill her. Her father had never been a good man.

  As they drove home, she felt a unique sense of closure. No longer was that constant black cloud following her, the one that didn’t guarantee one day to the next. She was at peace. Her husband would be safe. And they could start a real family with lots of children.

  Once they were dropped off at home, she immediately jumped in the shower, needing to wash off everything about tonight. She felt dirty after what she’d done, no matter how necessary it was. When she stepped back into their master bedroom, Klaus was sitting on the bed, his jacket and shirt off, just his suit pants remaining.

  “You’re amazing, Bella.”

  She smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile.

  “I would never have asked you to take his life. Even after the verdict. I’d rather die than make you kill your own father.”

  “That’s why I had to do it.”

  He patted his lap and she sat down on his thigh. “Why?”

  “I can’t lose you, Klaus. I’ve never been happy until you married me. I want everything with you.”

  Klaus cupped her cheek with one hand, staring at her with unadulterated adoration. She felt it with every fiber of her being. “I love you, Isabella Accardi. I can’t wait to see you pregnant with our child. To love you for the rest of my life.” He kissed her, slowly, deeply. A kiss with a thousand promises attached.

  “I think we need a vacation,” she said. When he smiled, she added, “I’m not joking.”

  “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, bella principessa. The world is ours.”

  She imagined a beach vacation, not a care in the world. Mostly, she wanted Klaus all to herself. No distractions. No thinking about tonight.

  “And I’m yours.”

  They kissed again, lost in their love for each other, and she didn’t care about her towel falling away. She had her man, her freedom, and they had a beautiful future ahead of them. She couldn’t wait to see what came next.

  The End

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  BONUS SAMPLE CHAPTER

  THE BIKER’S PLAYTHING

  Straight to Hell MC, 1

  Sam Crescent and Stacey Espino

  Copyright © 2021

  Sample Chapter

  “No, please, no!” The sound of the rat’s squeal filled the air. Seeing as he was standing in his own grave, which Lord had made him dig himself, there was no one to hear.

  “You defied our laws. I can’t have that.”

  “I’m sorry, Lord. I didn’t know what I was doing. It was a mistake. I’ll do anything. I’m so sorry.”

  “Anything?” Lord asked.

  “Yes. Please. Anything.”

  Lord smiled. “Kiss my feet.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Kiss my fucking feet.”

  The hole was big enough for the rat to still reach his boots. He waited. As soon as his lips were close, Lord kicked out, hitting him hard in the face. The man fell back, cupping his jaw, blood flowing between his fingers.

  His men all laughed.

  They knew the moment a rat was declared, the only sure thing was death.

  “Please, what about my daughter? She’s not responsible. Please.”

  “Don’t worry. Ally will get the right treatment owed to her by the club. You really should have thought about that before doing what you did.” Pulling out his gun, which he only used to take out rats in the club, he fired one bullet, and it went straight through the man’s head.

  He was already in his grave and Lord nodded. Justice had been served. His men clapped their hands, all of them happy with the way this ended.

  Brick, his VP, came to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Lord didn’t like to be touched and shrugged him off. The men knew not to put a hand on him.

  “I want the cop next,” Lord said.

  The rat, Richard Prixman, had been an accountant of sorts, working at the club’s strip joints. Not only had the son of a bitch been stealing from him, but he’d also decided to use their records to try to bring a case against the club. As if he’d ever allow that to happen.

  The club was his life. He protected everyone.

  “Get the prospects to clean this shit up.” He kicked some mud at the dead face. “It’s a shame we couldn’t mount his head on a spike to serve as a warning to anyone tempted to turn their backs on us.”

  Leaving his mess behind, Lord made his way to the club. One of the club whores was at the bar, cleaning out a glass. He nodded for her to pour him a shot, which she did without question.

  After knocking it back, he headed to the parking lot where his bike was ready and waiting.

  “You’re not going on your own,” Brick said.

  “This is my job.”

  “Take Reaper with you. I’ll handle shit here.”

  He glared at Brick. “You think I need a babysitter?”

  “No, but you do need someone to rein in your anger. Do as you’re asked, please,” Brick said.

  Lord raised his brow.

  Brick held his hands up. “I don’t mean no disrespect. You know that.”

  “Do I? The way I see it, my VP thinks he can tell me what to do.”

  “Advise you. That’s it. I don’t want you to hurt yourself or worse, do something you might regret.”

  “He’s right,” Reaper said. “You fucking know it, boss.”

  He looked between his men. His temper was well known, especially when it came to defending the club, and right now, killing the rat hadn’t satisfied his hunger. When one of his informants called a week ago, he thought it was a joke. It wasn’t. Someone wanted to end his club, and it wasn’t the first time. Between fighting for turf and ending clubs himself through wars, he was used to always looking over his shoulder. When it came to an insider willing to take on him and his club, well, he couldn’t have that. The betrayal was too close to home, and it didn’t help that it had been Richard Prixman. He’d helped that son of a bitch get the job and this was how he got repaid? He was pissed off. No, he was furious.

  Usually, killing the person responsible for his shit mood helped to improve it, but it had only made him angrier. He was pissed off and ready to kill even more people.

  “Then hurry the fuck up. We know this piece of shit is waiting at a barn out in the middle of nowhere. I don’t have time to waste.” He clicked his fingers. “Oh, and get the rat’s daughter here too.”

  “You know Ally doesn’t live with him. She declared emancipation from him when she was fifteen. The girl’s been living on her own ever since,” Brick said.

  He didn’t allow himself to get embroiled with his workers’ business. Richard had issues, he got that, but didn’t they all? As far as he was concerned, his only regret was not killing the daughter first, so the rat could have watched her die.

  Every one of the men at the club had issues, but he didn’t hold their hands or ask them about their problems. Instead, he liked to stick to the good, old, reliable method of not giving a shit.

  “Just do it. You know how this works.”

  “Fine. We’ll bring her in.”

  Climbing on his bike, he allowed the purr to sink into his senses. The scent of oil, the leather, the roar, it was all sweet magic, but it still didn’t do enough to stem his need for blood. Gripping the handlebars, he revved the engine, not waiting for his enf
orcer to get ready. He was out of there. He didn’t need a sitter.

  Taking the open road, he knew this was where he belonged. For many years, he’d been wandering through life, fighting, hunting, and trying to find himself, when he discovered his place right here in this very club, Straight to Hell MC. It had once been owned by a man who went by King. He’d been the one to rule this place, to have his men bow down at his feet, but greed had set him on a path of destruction. If it hadn’t been for Lord, they’d all be dead, rotting in their graves. Life had certainly taken a dramatic turn.

  He hadn’t been prepared to take care of these men, and yet, somehow, he’d managed. He’d been able to take the role of president, to remove all the men with King’s influence, and now the club was exactly how he wanted it. Ruthless men who were one hundred percent loyal to the club, whose motives he didn’t have to question. They would always have his back. And he’d die for them in return.

  It didn’t take long for Reaper to catch up with him. His enforcer was one hell of a rider and there was never going to be any way of getting shit past him.

  Heading toward town, he noticed many people stopped to watch them. Whenever he decided to venture into town with the club to take care of business, most people tried to keep a wide berth from him. He didn’t mind at all.

  Having people near him put him on edge. He was always tempted to reach for his gun, to shoot without giving a fuck when someone pissed him off—that was just his prerogative. So, it was best to keep his distance.

  The cop who dared to defy the club lived in a little farmhouse past the town, near a patch of open road. Pulling down the old dirt road, he arrived just in time to see the man himself scamper into his home.