52. Alessandro
Chapter fifty-two
Alessandro
My life changes overnight. Instead of coming home to an empty shack, my day now revolves around a pack that’s bursting with life.
The three of us alphas get to know each other, but our primary concern is always Willow.
In fact, there’s a touch of rivalry around trying to discover something she likes before the others.
I learn her favorite flowers, gladiolus, while Joel guesses her favorite chocolate, mint. Jeremy discovers that a shoulder massage relaxes her enough to fall asleep on the spot.
With three alphas and two dogs in the house, something’s always happening as I come and go from work
About half of my clients cancel, but the others don’t even mention the Warkows.
Either they didn’t get the lies-memo, or they don't care, and I’m not about to raise the topic first. Mr Monstead ignored all communication about his outstanding invoice, and in the end, I wrote off the cost simply to ease my state of mind.
Driving along their street makes my heart ache, so I take other routes whenever possible.
I plan to run advertisements soon, but for the time being I enjoy my extra time with the Boss pack as we find our rhythm.
And learn some new skills. One of the most impactful things in Willow’s program has been the idea that money can work harder than I can.
I’ve witnessed this truth in action among the wealthy clients whose gardens I take care of but never thought it was something applicable to me.
It took meeting a housebound omega to open my eyes to the bigger, interconnected world.
“Come on, Jock,” I call, tugging the leash lightly to encourage him away from a streetlamp post and back onto our run path. We’re only half a mile from home now, having worked up our distance over the past few days as the dog gets fitter.
Mr Shares is too lazy to run with us, but he waits at the fence, tongue lolling as we jog up to the gate.
I greet him with lots of praise and petting and then unleash Jock so the two can frolic in the yard. They play for a minute before Jock runs across the garden with his nose to the ground, pissing his way around the perimeter. Mr Shares trots after him, covering over the same spots.
I shake my head and pull out my phone. It’s finally time to call my mother.
She answers right away, and it’s nice to speak freely in Italian. “Alessandro? Why haven’t I been able to get hold of you? Did something happen?”
The worry in her tone eats at me. “I’m sorry, Mammina. Something did happen, but I’m okay.”
“Oh, no, my baby boy. Do you need me? What’s wrong?”
I cover my face with one hand and stifle a groan. “No, it’s fine now. But I wanted to tell you some good news.”
“I’m listening.”
“I met an omega.”
She squeals. “Oh my! Tell me you’re not teasing?”
“Why would I tease about something like that? Her name is Willow and—”
“Willow! Such a beautiful name.”
I lean against a tree trunk. This could take a while. “Yes. And she’s just as beautiful as her name. She also has two other alphas who are twins.”
“A pack? Oh goodness, Alessandro. Are you okay with that?”
“Yeah, they’re great guys actually. We’re getting along well.”
“Wonderful, wonderful. But you must be the first to put a baby in her, you know?”
I gasp. “Mammina!”
“What?” Her voice shifts to a whine. “Can't a woman want grandchildren? It is the one desire of my heart.”
“It’s way too early to talk about babies,” I chide.
She huffs. “Okay, I’ll wait six months.”
I bang my head back against the tree trunk, knowing I’ll be hearing about it again in less than two.
“Alessandro, this is good news. I’ll go into town and tell all my friends, and then I’ll go see Enzo.”
I furrow my brow, a cautionary angst climbing up my neck. “Enzo, the travel agent? Why would you go see him?”
“To book my tickets, of course. How could I not go to America to meet my daughter in law?”
“Mammina, no! Absolutely not.” I bolt upright, and wave the idea away madly. “I literally only just started dating this omega . . . two days ago. You cannot turn up out of the blue and start talking about babies to her!”
“I said I wouldn’t talk about babies for three months.”
“Six.”
“What?”
I groan. The dogs scurry over to investigate, nudging at my knees.
“Do not come, Mammina. If you can promise me that, I’ll send a photo.”
“Okay, okay, I won’t book a ticket. Sheesh! Anyone would think you’re hiding something from your mother. Can I tell my friends about her?”
“Would anything I say stop you?”
She chuckles darkly.
“I love you, Mammina. I need to get going with my day now.”
“I love you, my son. Thank you for the good news.”
“Mamminas, huh?” I whisper to the dogs as I hang up. Still, I’m grateful to have her in my life.
Jeremy glances up from the dining table where he’s studying in his pajama pants, and pops one finger to his lips.
“Willow’s filming.” he whispers. “Is everything okay? I thought I heard shouting outside.”
“Oh.” I snort and shake my head. “I was just saying hello to my mother.”
His brows rise.
Perhaps our conversation got a bit heated.
I tiptoe down the hall to find Willow. She’s in the bathroom, the faint noises suggesting she’s putting on her makeup. Even though she’s stunning in her natural skin, the omega almost never leaves her bedroom without a full face of cosmetics.
I lean on the wall, letting my breath settle as I listen to her voice.
“Have you ever walked into a room where some women just draw your eye, and you don’t know why?
People listen when they speak, they aren’t fighting for attention because it flows comes naturally.
What if I told you it’s not because they’re beautiful, but because they’ve crafted their image of personal power.
It’s something old money teaches their daughters but will never talk about.
Like a secret code, and if you don’t know the key, you’ll be left on the fringes, competing in a race you don’t even know the rules for. ”
Willow pauses for a breath, and her cosmetic bag rattles.
“But my darling omegalings, I don’t want that for you, so I’m going to crack the code. Here are the seven ways to command a room. Are you ready? The first is perfecting the entrance. I was at a corporate event last week and . . .”
I frown. Willow’s been here in the house. By my understanding, she hasn’t left this building in five years or more. In the aftermath of the storm, I learned about how much the lightning strikes stole from her, so it makes sense she wouldn’t want to go out there.
But why lie about being housebound?
When her voice stops, I enter her bedroom and cautiously peek into the bathroom.
“Good morning,” Willow says, her eyes lighting up as she spots me in the mirror.
“Good morning, cara mia. Are you done? I didn’t want to disturb.”
She waves her phone. “All done. Good run?”
I hug her from behind, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. “Yes, perfect morning for it. Jock managed three miles today.”
She grins and picks up her lipstick. “Sounds like he’s doing well.”
“Yes, if we don’t count almost tearing my arm off every time he smells something.”
Willow grimaces and makes a small noise with her tongue.
I nuzzle the back of her neck, my mind still churning. “My omega, I have a question.”
“Yeah?” She grabs the tube of mascara and unwinds the lid.
I breathe in her scent for courage. “Why do you tell your viewers you go on outings?”
She stiffens.
I hold her, hoping my question isn’t causing pain. “I only want to understand.”
Willow sighs and sets the tube down, leaning both hands on the vanity.
“It’s weird, right? I get it. The thing is, to be a role model, I need to be perfect. And a perfect woman, perfect omega, doesn’t stay holed up in her house scared of the sky.”
She tosses up one hand in frustration.
“You’ve no idea how brutal the digital world is, Alessandro.
People say stuff online they wouldn’t dream of telling someone in person.
All restraint comes off. At first I was very coy about my location, but then people started asking me for advice on how to handle social situations.
Answering comments was a big part of how I grew my presence on social media. ”
Willow pauses and slides around in my arms to face me, leaning back so our eyes meet. “If they knew I’m housebound, they’d never ask for my advice. The world demands perfection.”
I stare down at her, more confused than ever. “But why would you think you aren’t perfect the way you are?”
She snorts. “I’m scarred, scared, and hobble when I walk.”
“And?”
Willow pushes against my chest. “Come on. You might be in love with me but—” She gasps and snaps her mouth shut.
“I am in love with you,” I purr, glad she understands.
The woman in my arms flushes and looks down. “I didn’t mean to say that.”
I tilt her chin up until our gazes meet. “I love you with all my heart, cara mia. I already told you it feels like we’ve spent lifetimes together. I did not know if you were ready to hear it, but it pleases me to see you already know.”
Gently I massage my thumb down her throat, careful not to muss her makeup. “But still my question remains. Why do you believe you are not perfect as you are?”
Willow waves my hand away and pulls out of my grip. “Come on, Alessandro. You know that’s not how the world works. Nothing that’s broken can be considered perfect.”
I catch her hand before she can leave. “Having a difficult past does not make you broken, Willow.”
She smiles at me, the light not quite reaching her eyes. Returning, she leans in to kiss my cheek. “And that’s why you’re the sweetest. And also the sweatiest.”
My heart aches as she leaves. Jokes covering pain. Lies keeping people from the thing they might resonate with the most. But I shake my head as I turn the shower on, knowing I have no right to interfere. Willow Sheldon is not a woman who needs saving—only loving.
And I of all people know how cruel the world can be.
As her alphas, our task is to prove to her bit by bit that she is perfect as herself. And our first date this evening is a great way to show her.