Page 7 of The Don’s Omega

“She’s right,” Mama says. “This has been a rough time after Adriano’s death. People want a leader who’s settled. Stable. While you’re working hard for our syndicate, people are uneasy now that you’ve broken things off with Sandro.”

“What does it matter if I’m single or not? If I’m doing a good job, who gives a damn about my love life?”

“It’s just how it is,” Mama sniffs. “The Don of the Foschini syndicate is expected to have an omega. You already know this, although you do your best to ignore it.”

“I ignore it because it’s an antiquated idea.”

Mama points her finger at me. “It’s tradition, Marcello. Snubbing your nose at that tradition is foolish. Every Foschini who has led this family has had an omega at his side. Your father had me. Your grandfather had Nonna Rosa. When you reject the way things have always been done, it creates anxiety among the older alphas.”

“I don’t care what they think.”

Ginevra frowns. “I think you dismiss the older alphas too easily, Marcello. They still hold a lot of sway.”

“She’s right.” Mama pauses. “And when they talk, people listen. Salvatore Marchetti has been telling people he thinks a more settled alpha might be better suited to lead the syndicate.”

“Over my dead body.” I pour myself more wine, anger boiling inside of me. Salvatore Marchetti runs one of the syndicates under our protection. He pays tribute to the Foschini family, and in return we keep his enemies from carving him up and selling the pieces. But I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. “He may have some power, but he doesn’t get to choose who heads the Foschini syndicate.”

“I agree,” Mama says, “but he wasn’t the only one questioning things. He was just the loudest.”

Noemi says softly, “Salvatore is still bitter over his son, Cristiano’s, death I think.”

Ginevra glances at her. “No, that was so long ago. It’s been over ten years.”

Mama says softly, “Trust me, when you lose a son, you never get over it. I’ll grieve Adriano’s death until the day I die.”

I wince at the pain in my mother’s voice.

Ginevra grimaces. “Of course. I don’t mean Salvatore shouldn’t still grieve. But Cristiano knew what he was doing. He accepted the money from Father to take Adriano’s place in prison. If he’d lived, he’d have been a very rich man.”

Noemi glances at her older sister. “But he didn’t live. Even if it was Cristiano’s choice to accept that deal from Father, if I were Salvatore, I’d still be bitter.”

Shrugging, Ginevra says, “I don’t think that’s why Salvatore is speaking up. I think it truly bothers him that Marcello is single. And as Mama said, he’s not the only one complaining.”

I’m grateful when Ornella appears with the next course. She places a dish in front of me, roasted lamb, red potatoes and asparagus. One of my favorite meals. Mama obviously wanted to soften the blow of this discussion with delicious food.

“Everyone thought you’d marry Sandro and settle down.” Ginevra takes a bite of lamb, watching me as she chews.

“I never said I’d marry him.”

“No,” Ginevra agrees. “But you were with him two years. It seemed you might be headed in that direction.”

I grimace. “The break-up wasn’t premeditated. I didn’t plan on breaking up with him.”

Mama frowns. “No? Then why did you?”

I let out a tired sigh. “Unfortunately, Sandro started making demands, and it pissed me off. I don’t appreciate being threatened.” I cut into the lamb. The bite I take is tender, smoky, and delicious.

“I see,” Mama says. “What sort of demands did he make?”

I meet her gaze. “He gave me an ultimatum.”

Ginevra’s eyebrows go up. Noemi makes a small noise like oh.

“What sort of ultimatum?” Mama asks.

“He said he’d been patient long enough.” I chew another bite of lamb and swallow. “He said he’d waited two years for me to claim him and he was done waiting. He gave me until last Tuesday. He said if I didn’t come to him by then with a ring, he was done.”

“And you let the day pass,” Mama says quietly.