Page 96 of The Don’s Omega

I’m overwhelmed that the day has arrived. This moment is what everything has been for. This moment is why I met Marcello. But if it all goes to shit. If Fabio dies, life will literally hold no meaning for me anymore. My marriage to Marcello will be for nothing.

I’ll be alone like this the rest of my life.

I put my head in my hands, gritting my teeth against the fear. It’s only been forty minutes and I’m already spiraling. How am I going to get through hours with these dark, frightening thoughts? The lump in my throat is agonizingly painful as I try to hold back the tears. The panic. It’s hard to breathe as the dark thoughts attack me, whispering Fabio may already be gone.

When a hand touches my shoulder, I jump. I look up and I’m stunned to find Marcello standing over me. I shake my head to clear my brain because I must be hallucinating. He’s in Italy. He can’t possibly be here. Did I fall asleep? Is this a dream?

“Elio,” he says huskily, his brown eyes glittering with uncertainty. He’s wearing a dark suit, looking travel-worn. His jaw is shadowed with stubble, and his eyes tired and red-rimmed from lack of sleep.

“I don’t understand,” I mumble, staring up at him. “You can’t be here. You’re in Italy.”

He gives a weary smile. “I came back. I didn’t want you to be alone today.”

I let out a harsh breath, something breaking loose inside me. “Are you really here?” My voice trembles, sounding embarrassingly needy.

“I’m here, tesoro.”

Without another word, I stand and grab him in a hug. His arms immediately wrap around me and his breath is warm on my neck. He feels so strong and sturdy, and my heart is beating so fast I feel almost sick. A strangled sound breaks free of my tight throat and his arms tighten.

“You’re not alone,” he says, rubbing my back. “I wouldn’t let you go through this alone, Elio.”

A hot tear streaks down my cheek, but I clamp down, forcing the rest back. It feels so damn good to be in his arms, but I don’t want to make a fool of myself. I should pull away and tell him I’m fine. I should tell him he can go, that I don’t need anyone with me. That I don’t need him. But I can’t. I can’t make myself say or do any of that.

I want him here. I’m glad he’s here. I don’t want to be alone right now. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I’m so fucking tired of being strong. It’s too much. I can’t do it right now. I don’t even want to do it.

He continues to hold me, still rubbing my back and saying things in Italian. I have no idea what he’s saying, but the words feel comforting all the same. I feel his desire to make things better for me. To protect me. To help me. I’ve never felt that so clearly from anyone before. He wants to take care of me. He wants me to lean on him.

And I want to lean on him.

I’m not even sure how long we stay like that. Eventually, we sit. He’s beside me, his arm along the back of my seat, hand resting protectively on my shoulder. I know that this gentle side to him isn’t all he is, but right now, it’s all I need. All I care about.

Yes, a monster lives inside Marcello and he can be unbelievably brutal. But that same man got on a plane on another continent and flew across an ocean so I wouldn’t have to do this alone. It’s true that it’s wrong to only look at his good side without acknowledging the bad. But it’s also not fair to only see his bad side, while ignoring his good. They both live inside the same alpha.

My alpha.

A shiver runs through me and his hand moves to the back of my neck. Warm, firm, and grounding. He doesn’t fill the silence with reassurances. He doesn’t tell me Fabio will be fine. He just sits beside me, a comforting presence in a room that’s been unbearably empty. In a moment that’s been gut-wrenchingly lonely.

After a few minutes, he asks, “Why didn’t you ask Noemi to come with you?”

I sigh. “I… I don’t know her that well. It seemed like too big of an ask.”

He studies me. “Or maybe you just have trouble asking for things that you need.”

I pull my gaze from his, too tired to argue. “Maybe you’re right.” I stare at my hands. “To be fair, there isn’t usually anyone to ask.”

“But there is now.” He squeezes the back of my neck. “I want to be here for you. My family wants to be here for you. Three years is both a short time and a long time, Elio. You need to learn to lean on us.”

“Until you showed up here, I… I didn’t even realize how much I needed you… here.” My face warms. “Does that make me sound weak? That I would need something like that?”

He makes an impatient sound. “No. You should want that. I’ve tried hard to show you I can be your alpha in all ways. Can’t you lean on me just a little?”

I smile weakly, looking at how my shoulder is pressed to his. “I’m literally leaning on you as we speak.”

“Good.” He smiles wryly. “Keep doing that.”

We don’t talk much after that. I’m not in the mood to talk about everyday things, and he seems to understand that. But just having him beside me helps. It’s impossible for me not to respond instinctively to his comforting presence. I’m soothed by his scent and the feel of his big body against mine.

Nearly four hours later the doors open. Dr. Ashworth comes through in his scrubs, his mask pulled down. I’m instantly on my feet, my heart in my throat. I search his face for some sign things went well or poorly. But I can’t tell from his expression. Marcello’s hand is on the small of my back, which gives me the courage to speak.