Page 134 of The Don’s Omega

“That’s right.” He narrows his eyes. “So you know about that.”

“Yes.” I don’t elaborate. No one is supposed to know about the attempt on my life.

“Anyway,” he says, “Holding all those pieces makes the Foschinis untouchable.”

I wince. “Except no one is truly untouchable, right?”

“No.” He stirs some sugar into his coffee. “I think perhaps you understand this world more than you let on, Elio.”

“Understand might be a stretch.”

He lifts his gaze, peering at me under his brows. “Do you happen to know why Marcello took the ports from the Lucchese family?”

I stiffen. I could tell him no, but I hate lying to his face. “I… I can’t really talk about that.”

“So you do know the reason.”

“Please understand, Salvatore, there are things I just can’t discuss.”

He looks disappointed, but he quickly hides it. “That’s fine. You’re loyal to your alpha as you should be.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“Marcello will need that loyalty more than ever, I fear.”

“What do you mean?” I ask sharply.

“I’ve heard some troubling things recently.” He glances around, and then lowers his voice. “I was hoping to mention them to you if we ran into each other at the club yesterday. But you weren’t there.”

I blink at him. “These things you heard… were they bad things?”

“As I said, they were troublesome.” His eyes are very serious.

“What did you hear?” I ask breathlessly.

Salvatore’s expression shifts. Not dramatically. Just a slight tightening around his eyes. “It has to do with the ports.” He holds out his hand. “I’m not asking you to tell me what happened concerning them. I understand you can’t talk about that. But Marcello needs to be aware that some of the families are concerned that he stripped the ports from the Luccheses. They’re questioning his motives.”

I grit my teeth. “He had a very good reason. He didn’t just take the ports because he wanted them.”

Salvatore sits back in his chair, looking thoughtful. “I worry sometimes Marcello is too prideful. If he has a good reason, he should communicate that to people. That would probably calm them down.”

My stomach tightens. “Do you really think they’d be okay with him taking the ports if they just understood what made him do it?”

“If the reason is good enough, yes.”

I let out a harsh breath. “I can assure you, he had a very good reason.”

“I believe you, but the others… they would need more than your word to trust his motives.”

Frustration eats at me. “I told him he should be honest, but he’s so stubborn. He thinks he knows best. He thinks it will all blow over. And while I know nothing about being a mob boss, I do know people. Nobody likes having their feelings brushed aside.”

He meets my eyes, and there’s conflict there. He looks like a man deciding how much to say. “I wish he’d listen to you before it’s too late.”

My anxiety spikes. “God, you’re really worried for him.”

He pats my hand. “Now don’t get upset, my boy. I could be wrong. It… it might be nothing. People talk. Alliances shift and re-form. It’s the nature of this world. To be honest, usually, it comes to nothing.” He studies me. “Marcello is a strong don. He’s smart, he’s feared, he has resources most men would kill for. I don’t think anyone is foolish enough to move against him directly.”

“But?”