Page 68 of The Don’s Omega

“Thank you,” Elio says, retrieving his hand and subtly wiping it on his jeans.

“The pool water is perfect today,” Zino says, pulling out a handkerchief and mopping his shiny brow. “Oh, and we have lobster on the dinner menu tonight.”

I incline my head. “That sounds wonderful. Maybe we’ll have dinner here later. What do you think, Elio?”

“Uh, sure. That sounds great.” Elio’s smile is stiff. “I love lobster.”

“Fabulous. I’ll tell the chef to be on his game even more than usual,” Zino says. “Remember, Elio, anything you need, anything at all, you ask for Zino. I’ll take care of you.”

“I’ll do that.” Elio’s eyes flick longingly toward the exit.

Zino is still talking as we move past him. “What a beautiful couple you make. Your children will be Botticelli angels straight from heaven.”

Elio lets out a shaky breath as we leave Zino behind. “He certainly is very… animated.”

I smirk. “That was him restrained.”

“Good lord.”

We pass into the main lounge, a long room of leather chairs and low tables where the club’s true power has arranged itself by rank. Of course, you have to know how to read hierarchy. The people who matter sit near the windows with the view. The people who want to matter sit near the people who matter. Everyone is drinking, and everyone is watching the door.

When Elio and I walk through it I feel the eyes of the room turn toward us like a fighter jet locking on its target.

A woman rises from a cluster of chairs by the window and crosses toward us.

“Incoming,” I say under my breath to warn Elio.

“Oh, god,” he mutters. “Already?”

The omega approaching is Bianca Russo. Draped in cream silk, with her dark hair lacquered into a chignon, she looks more like she’s attending a pricy charity dinner than a country club. She’s married to Rolfe, a capo who handles the construction rackets. I had a little issue with Bianca and her husband a month ago, and from her pinched expression, it’s clear she’s still holding a grudge.

She stops in front of us, plastering on a fake smile. “Marcello, you look like you’re on cloud nine. Marriage obviously agrees with you.”

“Yes, it does.”

She turns to Elio. “So good to see you again, Elio.” Her gaze drops to the bandage that covers my bite. “I see Marcello wasted no time in staking his claim.”

“Why would I wait?” I say smoothly. “I want everyone to know Elio is mine.”

“Oh, my, so possessive.” She loops her arm through Elio’s, like they’re old friends. “How about I give you a tour of the club, Elio?”

Elio meets my gaze, looking like a deer in the headlights. “Oh, well, I was hoping to spend some time with Marcell—”

“Don’t be silly, Elio,” she cuts him off. “Us omegas have to stick together. Your husband will want to talk business with the other alphas. That’s what they come here for, not to hang out with us.”

“Well, I… uh…” Elio shoots me a look of quiet panic.

“Bianca,” I cut in. “I want Elio with me.”

She turns and fake pouts. “But he’ll be bored to tears. He’ll have more fun with me and the other omegas. We want to get to know him better.” She smiles at Elio. “Doesn’t that sound like more fun, Elio? Hanging out with omegas instead of boring old alphas? We can have martinis. Have you ever tried a pumpkin martini? They sound horrible but they’re absolutely delicious.”

“No, I’ve never tried one,” Elio mumbles, looking resigned. He thinks I’m going to let her drag him off.

“Sorry, Bianca.” I reach out and gently take Elio’s arm. “He stays with me. I have no intention of ditching him to go gossip with the others. I’m not here to talk shop. I want to spend today with my new husband.”

Her laugh is falsely bright. “What was I thinking? You’re newlyweds. Of course you want to spend time together.”

“I’m glad you understand.” She doesn’t give a shit about getting to know Elio. Truth is, she just wants to get him alone so she can pump him full of lies. But Elio and I are on shaky enough ground, and I don’t need her filling his head with nonsense.