Page 106 of The Don’s Omega

I stare at the test and sure enough, there are two dark pink lines indicating he’s with child. I laugh and grab him, tugging him in for a hot, desperate kiss. “You’re pregnant with my baby,” I whisper against his mouth.

He nods, also laughing. His eyes are shining and he looks happier than I’ve ever seen him. He touches his stomach, cheeks flushed. “I knew it. I just knew it.”

I feel his heart beating against mine. “Are you happy, tesoro?”

He sniffs, wiping roughly at his eyes. “Yes, but I don’t know if I deserve to be this happy.”

“Yes you do.” I hold him tighter. “Of course you do.”

“Can we really do this? Just be together and be in love?”

“Why not?” I pull back and smile down at him. “I’m Marcello Foschini, and I can do whatever I want.”

He smiles weakly. “And you’re sure I’m who you want?”

I nudge his chin up and press my mouth to his. Then I whisper, “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. Trust me with your heart, mio, and I’ll trust you with mine.”

While there’s still worry in his eyes, he nods. “I couldn’t say no even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to. I love you too, Marcello. With all my heart.”

“Then it’s settled,” I say possessively. “You belong to me.”

Chapter Fourteen

Elio

A few days later, Marcello takes me to see Dr. Lena Vasquez, a board-certified OB-GYN. She’s discreet and has been taking care of syndicate families for fifteen years, apparently. She and her office staff know better than to question why her patients arrive to their appointments in armored vehicles.

The OB’s office is in a brownstone on the quieter end of Harmon Street, three blocks from the waterfront, with no sign on the door. Just a brass number and a buzzer. The kind of place you’d walk past a hundred times and never notice, which I’m starting to understand is the point.

The waiting room is small and warm. Cream walls, upholstered chairs, a side table with fresh flowers, and a stack of magazines that, surprisingly, aren’t years out of date. Soft classical music plays overhead and there’s a small tabletop fountain in the corner. It feels more like a massage therapist’s office than a doctor’s.

Marcello looks too big for the chair he’s sitting in beside me. His knees are almost touching the coffee table, and he’s hogging the armrest. He’s scouring the forms on a clipboard he holds, like it’s a contract he’s reviewing for loopholes. I’m happy for him to handle the insurance forms. He’s handled all of Fabio’s insurance paperwork too.

“Are you nervous?” he asks me, without looking up.

“A little,” I admit. “I hate giving blood.”

He leans his shoulder into mine. “Don’t be worried, mio. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

“I’m not sure there’s anything you can do where needles are concerned.” I sigh, not looking forward to anyone poking or prodding me.

“If she’s too rough, I’ll break her fingers,” he says softly.

“Marcello,” I choke out, glancing around uneasily. “Don’t say things like that.”

He smirks. “Why not? It’s the truth. Anyone who hurts you must pay.”

Thankfully, I’m saved from responding when a nurse opens the inner door. She’s young, dark-haired, with a smile that looks genuine rather than practiced. “Elio? We’re ready for you.”

Marcello stands when I do, and the nurse’s eyes flick to him and register exactly who he is.

“Both of you can come back,” she says brightly.

The exam room is clean and bright, white walls with a framed watercolor of the coast that actually isn’t terrible. The exam table has a fresh paper covering and the counter is lined with glass jars of cotton balls and swabs. There’s an ultrasound machine in the corner. The room smells like rubbing alcohol and something faintly, artificially, floral.

The nurse takes my vitals. Blood pressure, weight, temperature. She writes everything down, asks me to change into a gown, and says the doctor will be in shortly. Then she leaves, pulling the door shut behind her with a soft click.

I change into the thin gown that ties in the back. Marcello sits in the chair in the corner with his arms crossed. His presence fills the room even when he says and does nothing.