Page 133 of The Don’s Omega

Salvatore’s coffee cup pauses halfway to his mouth. He sets it back down. “You look worried, Elio. Is something wrong?”

I grimace. “No.”

“Are you sure? You seem troubled.”

I’m surprised at how perceptive he is. “I’m not troubled exactly. There’s just a lot going on with my brother and a baby on the way.”

“Are you sure that’s all? You know, you can talk to me if you want. I can be discreet.” He shrugs. “I’ve been around a long time. I’ve seen it all.”

I hesitate. “I’m sure you have.” If I didn’t feel disloyal talking about my worries concerning Marcello, Salvatore would be the perfect person. But Marcello is so private, I don’t want to do anything that upsets him.

He picks up his coffee again and takes a sip. “But it’s also fine if you don’t want to tell me what’s on your mind. While I feel oddly close to you, in truth, we don’t know each other that well. I understand why you don’t trust me.”

I lean forward and touch his arm. “It isn’t that I don’t trust you.”

He smiles kindly. “It’s okay. Trust takes time.”

“I’m serious, my hesitation isn’t about trust.” I glance around, but nobody is paying attention to us so I continue. “I’m simply not sure what Marcello would want me to share with others. He’s so private.”

“It’s fine,” he grumbles. “I’m used to being dismissed as old and useless.”

I frown. “I’m not dismissing you, Salvatore. I swear.”

“If you were, I wouldn’t blame you.” He sighs. “It sucks getting old, Elio. Do you know there was a time when everyone came to me for advice? But not now. Now, I’m considered a relic. Oh, sure, people like having me around because I have good stories, but nobody is coming to me for advice these days.”

“This has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with how private Marcello is.”

“Oh, I’m just being overly sensitive.” He waves me off. “You probably won’t believe this, but at one time I almost had the position that Marcello holds now.”

“As head of the Foschini syndicate?” I frown in confusion because I know for a fact Salvatore isn’t a Foschini.

He smiles. “No, no. I mean as the boss who tells all the other syndicates what to do. Like Marcello does now. The Marchetti syndicate was once very powerful.”

“I see.”

His jaw tightens. “Marcello’s father, Domenico, and I came up through the ranks together. We were good friends most of our lives.”

“Most of your lives?”

He lifts one shoulder. “We had a brief falling out when he was picked to be the top dog instead of me.”

“Oh.”

“I can admit, I resented that decision. I was young and prideful. I felt as if I deserved the honor every bit as much as Domenico. Fortunately, we patched things up quickly. It wasn’t worth losing a friendship over.” He gives a rueful smile. “In hindsight, it was probably a good thing I was never in charge. Being the main boss looks exhausting. I enjoy my free time too much.”

“I don’t know why anyone would want to be in charge.” I rub my jaw, feeling muddled. “It seems so dangerous and stressful. I have no idea how Marcello keeps control of all the factions.”

“It’s because he holds all the power.”

I wrinkle my brow. “Does he? You and many of the other alphas seem to have plenty of power.”

“Not in the same way.” Salvatore squints at me. “Has Marcello really never bothered to explain any of this to you?”

“No. But to be fair, I never asked him to.”

“I see,” he murmurs. “Well, the Foschinis are the most powerful syndicate because they control all the things that matter. Marcello’s great-grandfather was cunning. He knew that if he controlled strategic parts of the city, the other syndicates would have to bow to him. He seized everything he could get his hands on. Construction unions. Trucking routes. Casino licenses. Zoning boards. Inspectors. Judges.” He hesitates. “And now the Foschinis apparently also control the ports.”

I frown. “Because Marcello took them from the Lucchese family.”