Klaus laughed, a good natured sound that was perhaps more dangerous than any measure of malice or hatred he could've issued. He fixed his gaze on Jack atop the stairs, his laugh fading into a smirk instead. The sire didn't move to attack, poised instead like a viper ready to strike at any movement in spite of how composed he seemed.
"It's only fitting, isn't it, my son?" he asked in a light, conversational tone. "You destroy what is mine, what you have no right to touch. The very beginning of the least I can do is to rip your door from the hinges. I do I'm not interrupting anything. You don't have any girls over I hope?" The question clearly posed to his dear son's activities with so many women.