Page 34 of The Don’s Omega

I watch them for too long. I know I’m watching for too long because Carlo catches my eye from across the room. When he notices what I’m looking at, his expression shifts into something careful. Cautious.

Noemi joins me. She follows my gaze and her face changes.

“Oh,” she says softly. “That’s Sandro.”

“Who’s Sandro?” I try to sound nonchalant, but fail miserably.

She hesitates. The hesitation tells me plenty.

“He’s... he was Marcello’s partner. Before you.” She looks apologetic.

“How long were they together?” I ask.

She grimaces. “Two years.”

“That’s a long time. I guess they’re on good terms if he showed up at his ex’s wedding.” I laugh, although I don’t feel like laughing. I feel strange. I’m not sure what it is I’m feeling exactly. I’m still angry with how Marcello spoke to me a minute ago, but there’s some other emotion gnawing at me too.

“Sandro being here doesn’t mean anything,” she says. “He’s a Lucchese. His family controls much of the ports, and they answer to the Foschinis. Leaving him or his mother off the guest list would have caused trouble. Marcello didn’t want or need that.”

I shrug. “I wouldn’t go to any of my ex’s weddings.”

She rests her hand on my arm. “Sandro still manages several of Marcello’s restaurants and clubs. They’re connected through business, not romance. Marcello is the one who ended things.”

“I see.” That gives me a little comfort, although I’m still not sure why I need comfort.

Maybe Sandro bothers me simply because he’s everything I’m not. Polished where I’m rough. Obviously a part of this group, while I’m temporary. He has a pedigree, whereas I’m a mutt. But Marcello said he wanted a nobody like me. He didn’t want a pedigreed omega. I almost have myself calmed down. I almost have myself convinced I’m overreacting.

Until Marcello puts his hand on Sandro’s waist.

It’s the kind of touch that could mean everything or nothing. But Sandro’s face when Marcello touches him, the quick flash of hope and hunger before he smooths it away, tells me it means everything to at least one of them.

Noemi makes a disgusted sound. “Okay, that’s inappropriate. I’m going to go talk to Marcello. He’s being dumb.” Before I can stop her, she marches over to her brother. She leans in and says something and Marcello lifts his head and meets my gaze.

I keep my face blank as he holds my gaze for a moment, flat and cool. Then he turns back to Sandro and says something that makes Sandro laugh, and his hand stays where it is. Noemi slips her arm through her brother’s and leads him away from Sandro, talking a mile a minute.

Mrs. Foschini appears at my side, and she’s watching Marcello and Noemi. “What’s that about?” she asks. “Why is Noemi upset with Marcello?”

Before I can answer, Ginevra is there with us too. Her face is stony and her gaze is pinned on Sandro. “I knew we shouldn’t have invited him to the wedding.”

Mama glances at her daughter. “What’s going on? Is Sandro causing problems?”

“No, Marcello is the problem,” I say. “He’s encouraging Sandro because he’s upset with me.”

They both look at me, appearing confused.

Mrs. Foschini asks, “Why would Marcello do that?”

“It’s just a misunderstanding,” I mumble.

“Come on, tell me what happened.” Her tone is insistent. “Did you and Marcello fight?”

“Not really.” I glance around at the guests, relieved everyone is having too much fun drinking and talking to notice the drama. Hopefully. “Like I said, it was a misunderstanding.”

Ginevra frowns. “Marcello must have done something bad. It takes a lot to get Noemi mad.”

Mrs. Foschini puts her hand on my arm. “Elio, please, tell me exactly what happened between you and Marcello.”

I meet her worried gaze. “It was no big deal really. I… I got a text from someone I knew back in Philadelphia. It upset Marcello.” I frown. “But I don’t really even know why.”