Page 130 of The Don’s Omega

Fabio grimaces. “I’m not sure I want to be a teacher anymore. My mother was a teacher, and I think it’s a noble profession.” He laughs gruffly. “But the more I think about it, the more I don’t think I’m cut out for it. I’m not the most patient person.”

Carlo studies him. “You seem to be pretty easygoing.”

Fabio glances at Carlo. “I don’t know if easygoing and patient are really the same thing.”

Carlo frowns. “I would think they are.”

Fabio shakes his head. “No. They’re similar but… but different.”

Carlo’s tone is challenging as he asks, “In what way?”

Fabio appears surprised at the pushback, but he responds. “Well, easygoing is more about temperament, while patient is more about tolerance over time.”

Carlo nods. “Oh, I think I get it. So like an easygoing man wouldn’t mind waiting for revenge against an enemy, while a patient man would mind, but he’d wait for his revenge anyway?”

Fabio laughs uneasily at Carlo’s example. “Uh, right.”

Carlo smirks and meets my gaze. “I guess I’m more of a patient man than I thought. I’ll wait as long as it takes to get my revenge.”

I laugh. “Same.”

Ginevra says drolly, “Funny you don’t think you want to teach, Fabio, considering how easily you schooled Carlo.”

“Ouch.” Carlo laughs, fake scowling at Ginevra. “But in my defense, I’m not Marcello’s second-in-command because of my vocabulary skills.” He cracks his knuckles. “I have far more valuable talents.”

I chuckle. “It’s true. He earned the nickname Carlo the Carver for a reason.”

Fabio is taking a sip of water and he begins choking. Elio pats his back, looking concerned, and Mama’s expression darkens.

“Oh, per l’amor del Cielo,” Mama exclaims. “That’s enough of that talk.” Mama’s tone is scolding. “We’re trying to have a nice dinner to welcome Fabio into the family. What’s the matter with you two?”

“Sorry, Mrs. Foschini,” Carlo drops his gaze, looking chastened. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Wincing, I say, “Ti prego, perdonami, mamma.”

She snaps back, “Non voglio le tue scuse. Rimedia. Mi hai umiliata.” Expressing that Carlo and I have embarrassed her.

I shoot Elio an apologetic look, wilting at his irritated expression. He shakes his head, eyes glittering with frustration. I address Fabio directly. “I’m sorry, Fabio,” I say quietly. “I got carried away and forgot my manners.”

Fabio is still coughing a bit from the water that went down wrong. But he manages a polite, raspy, “It’s okay.”

Carlo gives a weak laugh. “That’s very… easygoing of you, Fabio.”

Mama rolls her eyes and steers the conversation to safer topics. I’m afraid to look at Elio in case I see disappointment on his face. I hate when he’s upset with me. I already fucked up by arriving late, and now screwed up again by shocking his poor brother.

When Elio suddenly slips his hand into mine, I turn and meet his gaze. His expression is gentle. Understanding even. He squeezes my fingers and, feeling relieved, I raise his hand to my lips. His smile washes away my anxiety. He still loves me, thank God. But I won’t have endless chances. I need to guard my words better when Fabio is near.

After dinner, we return to the sitting room for coffee and dessert. Ornella prepared a healthy treat of ricotta with honey, berries, and toasted pistachios. Fabio eats the dessert with obvious pleasure, but he looks tired as he sets his empty dish on the coffee table. He’s practically asleep on his feet, but I suspect he doesn’t want to seem rude or ungrateful by going up to his room.

“Elio,” I say. “Why don’t you show Fabio his room. He’s had a long day.”

Elio stands immediately. “You’re right. I should have thought of that.” He holds out his hand to his brother. “Come on. You look ready to fall over.”

Fabio laughs guiltily and he stands, grabbing his brother’s hand. “I’m sorry I’m such a wimp. You were all so kind and you made me feel so welcome.”

“We’re happy to have you stay with us.” Mama smiles at him and I can tell she means it. I think she feels soft toward Fabio, maybe because she’s already so fond of Elio.

Elio and Fabio go upstairs and Mama and my sisters retire for the evening as well. Carlo doesn’t leave immediately and we go into my study. I pour us each a glass of bourbon and we sit near the fire.