Page 112 of The Don’s Omega

“He is.” I smile, trying not to think about the suspicions my earlier conversation with Salvatore stirred up inside of me.

Salvatore chuckles a gleam in his eyes. “So Don Foschini has an heir on the way. That secretive son-of-a-bitch.”

I wince. “Remember, no one but you knows. Please keep it that way.”

He nods. “My eyes might be shit, but my hearing is excellent, dear boy. I won’t say a word to anyone.”

Pasquale touches Salvatore’s shoulder and he turns to the other man. They have a friendly conversation about a mutual acquaintance, and then Salvatore finishes his one drink, and rises. “I hate to leave you wonderful people, but I have a dinner engagement I must get to.”

Everyone says their goodbyes, and Salvatore stops beside my chair on his way out. He rests his hand on my shoulder and he winks. “You take care of yourself, Elio. Be sure to say hello to Marcello for me when he returns home.”

“I will.” I smile up at him.

I stay another hour, switching to sparkling water with lemon. Even so, I’m jealous of how much more fun my pals are having as they get tipsy on delicious cocktails. It doesn’t help that I’m also tired from the pregnancy. It might be early in the pregnancy, but the baby is already draining me. I text Dante to bring the car around and say my goodbyes.

“I’ll call you later in the week.” Giulia hugs me.

“Sounds good.”

Once I get home, I have dinner with Marcello’s family. I feel guilty that Salvatore found out about the baby before them. I really do need to tell Fabio soon. It feels so wrong to keep the pregnancy secret from his family. I’m actually surprised Marcello went along with it, if I’m honest.

Maybe he doesn’t want Sandro to find out.

That thought does nothing to settle my already frazzled nerves. I want so desperately to believe that Salvatore was simply mistaken about seeing Sandro and Marcello together. But after the tumultuous way our love story began, it’s easy to let doubt creep in. There’s a vicious maybe even cruel side of Marcello I don’t understand. He’s well aware that part of him worries me.

Does it bother him that I have trouble accepting that darkness?

Would he seek out Sandro because the other omega accepts all of him? Would he find comfort and acceptance in Sandro’s arms that he can’t find in mine? Maybe he feels judged by me. Not fully seen. They come from the same world. Perhaps Sandro fills in the holes that I can’t, simply by letting Marcello be who he truly is without condemnation.

Feeling dejected, I go to my room and lie down on my bed. I stare at the ceiling, wishing I could turn off my brain. I don’t think it’s wrong of me to be uncomfortable with Marcello’s violent side. What kind of person would I be if that violence didn’t bother me? I’ve accepted Marcello in spite of his dark side. That doesn’t mean I suddenly like it or approve of it.

When my phone buzzes on the bed beside me, I see it’s a FaceTime call from Marcello. Excitement nudges me, even as anxiety attacks. My fingers tremble as I answer his call.

“Good evening, my love,” he says in a deep voice. He’s lying on a big bed, wearing only a towel around his waist. Lust sparks through me as I run my gaze over the smooth skin, and muscles of his chest and abdomen. He’s grinning cockily, and my heart aches because I miss him.

“Well, hello there,” I say softly. “You look relaxed.”

“I am relaxed.”

“I thought you’d be out on the town with your mafia pals, not in your hotel room.”

“Nah. I decided to have dinner in my room.” He sighs. “I’ve had enough of people for one day. I just wanted to see your face and pretend I’m home in bed with you.”

I smile, pleased to hear he misses me. “You didn’t want to go out and party all night?”

“Fuck no.”

I can’t help laughing at his heartfelt response. “I guess you really are tired of people.”

“Definitely. How are you feeling?” he asks. “Any more nausea?”

“Not too bad. A little when I first wake up, but then it fades.”

“Good. I hate it when you’re sick. Makes me feel helpless.”

See? He’s a good, sweet, caring alpha.

I have no reason to feel worried. He’s not out tonight screwing other omegas. He’s staying in his hotel room and calling me. But then the doubt creeps back in slowly.