Page 75 of The Don’s Omega

He mutters, “That’s a little dramatic.”

I arch one brow. “Is it? I’ve seen servers and customers almost come to blows when the dinner service starts to unravel.”

He smiles but it fades quickly. “You can’t just give me a job as a restaurant consultant.”

“I can do whatever I want.”

He wrinkles his brow, leaning closer. “Why do you want to do this for me? I don’t get it. I’m already going to sleep with you when you tell me to. What’s in it for you?”

“I told you, I need your help. But it’s not just that. You’re my husband. My omega. Yes, we have a contract, but I still want you to be happy. And I can see you’re not. I mean, hell, a blind man could see you’re bored out of your mind, Elio.”

He shrugs wordlessly.

“You’re used to working yourself to death and worrying about Fabio constantly. But now you have nothing to do. Nothing to focus on.” I reach out and touch his hand that rests on the table, pleased when he doesn’t pull away. “Let me give you something to do that you’d actually be really good at.”

There’s the tiniest spark of excitement in his eyes, but he’s doing his best to hide it. “I don’t know, Marcello.”

“I do.”

“What business do I have getting involved?” He asks quietly. “Without a degree, it feels wrong. I don’t know CAD.”

“I don’t need you to know CAD or codes. You wouldn’t be replacing the professionals I already use. You’d be consulting for me on the practical side of things. The service side. The management side.”

He’s quiet for a long moment.

Around us, the club hums with voices and the soft clink of glass. Elio looks young and worried. It’s almost like he’s terrified at the thought that a dream he buried long ago might still have a pulse.

“Twenty-eight isn’t too old to start chasing your dreams,” I say.

“What… what about when I get pregnant?” he asks warily. “Would you make me stop? Would I have to give it all up? Because if so, I don’t want to do it. Giving it up would be worse than never doing it at all.”

I scowl. “You think I’m encouraging you to follow your dreams just so I can rip them away from you?”

“No, I don’t mean that exactly.” His face flushes. “But practically speaking, if I’m pregnant, or I have a kid to watch over, that will be something that interferes with my work.”

“You’re my omega not some temp I hired. We’d work around your needs.”

He shakes his head, looking bewildered. “Who are you and what have you done with Marcello Foschini?”

I narrow my eyes. “I keep telling you, I’m a good guy to those I care about.”

He drops his gaze. “You don’t care about me.”

“Bullshit,” I say harshly. “You’re my omega. Of course I care.”

He looks up, shocked at my angry tone.

I sigh. “Look, Elio, it’s true when we first met, I was cold and detached about the whole situation. It truly was just business to me. I know now that I was naive to think I could claim you, and nothing would change. The minute I gave you my bite, everything changed. Your happiness is as important to me. I know that working will make you happy, so I want to give you that.”

His throat works. “You really think I can do this?”

“I know you can.” I huff. “Do you seriously think I’m the sort of man who would offer you this job if I didn’t think you could do it? It’s important to me that you succeed. If you fail, I fail. And I can’t fail.”

He winces. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Is it?” I smirk. “Just don’t fail.”

“Gee, why didn’t I think of that?” he grumbles.