Chapter Fourteen #3
My gut churns as I grapple with what Salvatore said. There’s no reason for Salvatore to lie about what he saw, and at first he seemed certain it was Marcello and Sandro he’d seen. He only changed his tune when he saw I was bothered by his words. He was trying to spare my feelings.
I sip my water, now wishing like hell it was booze.
I try to think of a good reason Marcello would have lied about going to Philadelphia, but I can’t think of one.
And I really can’t see any reason why Marcello would be having a secret dinner with his ex-lover Sandro.
Salvatore must be wrong. Marcello wouldn’t betray me by cheating on me with Sandro.
If he’d wanted to be with Sandro, he could have been from the start.
There would have been no reason to drag me into this.
Salvatore finishes his conversation with Costanza and he faces me again. I feel his gaze on me, and after a few moments, he sighs. “I’ve upset you.”
I glance up, embarrassed he read me so easily. “No, I’m fine,” I lie.
His eyes soften. “Elio, I can tell you’re bothered by what I said. You shouldn’t be.”
I hold his gaze, unsure of what to say to him.
“You trust Marcello, don’t you?”
“I do,” I say quietly. “But you seemed so sure you saw him and Sandro together, and he’s supposed to be out of town. You’d have no reason to lie.”
“No, and I’m not lying. I must be mistaken. Those are two very different things.” He leans forward. “If Marcello told you he was going on a trip, then that’s what happened. You must always trust your alpha before all others, Elio.”
I grimace. “Trust isn’t always easy for me.”
He nods, his expression empathetic. “It’s not easy for me either, so I understand more than you know.
But I’ve known Marcello a very long time.
Since he was a boy. He held out taking an omega for a very long time.
Then he met you and he gave you his bite.
He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t love you. Why would he?”
Naturally, Salvatore has no idea the bite was given to me as part of the marriage contract.
But if I’m honest, it’s not even that I doubt that Marcello loves me.
I think he does love me. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t lust after other omegas too.
Unfortunately, working as a bartender, I didn’t see the best in alphas.
I was hit on nightly by alphas who had omegas they loved waiting at home.
Is Marcello like that?
Is he in love with me, but still craving Sandro?
Have I been fooling myself thinking I was the only one he wanted?
That I could be enough for an alpha like Marcello?
He made me feel special and like I was the only omega in the world for him.
But what if he was just manipulating me?
It’s not inconceivable. In his world, manipulation is second nature.
I doubt he even thinks it’s wrong so long as he gets what he wants.
Salvatore reaches across the table and pats my hand in a fatherly gesture. “I feel terrible that I’ve upset you, Elio. Marcello seems devoted to you. You have nothing to worry about. I’m sure of it.”
I can tell he believes what he’s saying, and I find some comfort in that. But I can’t shake the paranoia his earlier words stirred up inside of me. It’s so much easier to believe I’m not enough, than it is to accept Marcello would truly love only me.
“You’re not drinking today?” Salvatore asks suddenly, eyeing my water.
“Uh, no. I’m not in the mood.” In truth, I’d have loved to drown my worries with a strong drink or two. I’m trying to be responsible about the baby.
He studies me the way a grandfather might study a grandchild he’s worried about. “You know, I raised three children of my own with my late wife, God rest her soul. Two girls and one boy.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.” He sighs, but then his keen gaze returns to me. “I always knew when my wife was pregnant. Even before she’d tell me.” He hesitates. “Forgive an old man’s intuition, but is there perhaps some good news you’re keeping close?”
My face warms. “Like what?”
He glances at the others and lowers his voice. “I’m serious, Elio, I can always tell. There’s something about the way an omega’s eyes sparkle when they’re with child.”
I should deny it. I should shut him down instantly. Marcello and I agreed we wouldn’t tell anyone until we’d told our families. But Salvatore is looking at me with such gentle, expectant warmth, I feel too guilty to lie to his face.
“You can’t tell anyone,” I say under my breath. “I mean it, Salvatore. Not a soul. Marcello might be angry with me for telling you. Telling anyone.”
“But you didn’t tell me.” He smiles coyly. “I guessed.”
“Still, he might be upset if you knew. If anyone knew. We haven’t even told our families yet.”
“Is that right?” He lifts his brows. “Well, worry not. My lips are sealed, my boy.”
“Thank you,” I say, relieved.
He reaches across and squeezes my hand, and his grip is firm and warm. “Regardless of the secrecy, Marcello must be over the moon.”
“He is.” I smile, trying not to think about the suspicions my earlier conversation with Salvatore stirred up inside of me.
Salvatore chuckles a gleam in his eyes. “So Don Foschini has an heir on the way. That secretive son-of-a-bitch.”
I wince. “Remember, no one but you knows. Please keep it that way.”
He nods. “My eyes might be shit, but my hearing is excellent, dear boy. I won’t say a word to anyone.”
Pasquale touches Salvatore’s shoulder and he turns to the other man. They have a friendly conversation about a mutual acquaintance, and then Salvatore finishes his one drink, and rises. “I hate to leave you wonderful people, but I have a dinner engagement I must get to.”
Everyone says their goodbyes, and Salvatore stops beside my chair on his way out. He rests his hand on my shoulder and he winks. “You take care of yourself, Elio. Be sure to say hello to Marcello for me when he returns home.”
“I will.” I smile up at him.
I stay another hour, switching to sparkling water with lemon.
Even so, I’m jealous of how much more fun my pals are having as they get tipsy on delicious cocktails.
It doesn’t help that I’m also tired from the pregnancy.
It might be early in the pregnancy, but the baby is already draining me.
I text Dante to bring the car around and say my goodbyes.
“I’ll call you later in the week.” Giulia hugs me.
“Sounds good.”
Once I get home, I have dinner with Marcello’s family. I feel guilty that Salvatore found out about the baby before them. I really do need to tell Fabio soon. It feels so wrong to keep the pregnancy secret from his family. I’m actually surprised Marcello went along with it, if I’m honest.
Maybe he doesn’t want Sandro to find out.
That thought does nothing to settle my already frazzled nerves.
I want so desperately to believe that Salvatore was simply mistaken about seeing Sandro and Marcello together.
But after the tumultuous way our love story began, it’s easy to let doubt creep in.
There’s a vicious maybe even cruel side of Marcello I don’t understand.
He’s well aware that part of him worries me.
Does it bother him that I have trouble accepting that darkness?
Would he seek out Sandro because the other omega accepts all of him?
Would he find comfort and acceptance in Sandro’s arms that he can’t find in mine?
Maybe he feels judged by me. Not fully seen.
They come from the same world. Perhaps Sandro fills in the holes that I can’t, simply by letting Marcello be who he truly is without condemnation.
Feeling dejected, I go to my room and lie down on my bed.
I stare at the ceiling, wishing I could turn off my brain.
I don’t think it’s wrong of me to be uncomfortable with Marcello’s violent side.
What kind of person would I be if that violence didn’t bother me?
I’ve accepted Marcello in spite of his dark side.
That doesn’t mean I suddenly like it or approve of it.
When my phone buzzes on the bed beside me, I see it’s a FaceTime call from Marcello. Excitement nudges me, even as anxiety attacks. My fingers tremble as I answer his call.
“Good evening, my love,” he says in a deep voice. He’s lying on a big bed, wearing only a towel around his waist. Lust sparks through me as I run my gaze over the smooth skin, and muscles of his chest and abdomen. He’s grinning cockily, and my heart aches because I miss him.
“Well, hello there,” I say softly. “You look relaxed.”
“I am relaxed.”
“I thought you’d be out on the town with your mafia pals, not in your hotel room.”
“Nah. I decided to have dinner in my room.” He sighs. “I’ve had enough of people for one day. I just wanted to see your face and pretend I’m home in bed with you.”
I smile, pleased to hear he misses me. “You didn’t want to go out and party all night?”
“Fuck no.”
I can’t help laughing at his heartfelt response. “I guess you really are tired of people.”
“Definitely. How are you feeling?” he asks. “Any more nausea?”
“Not too bad. A little when I first wake up, but then it fades.”
“Good. I hate it when you’re sick. Makes me feel helpless.”
See? He’s a good, sweet, caring alpha.
I have no reason to feel worried. He’s not out tonight screwing other omegas. He’s staying in his hotel room and calling me. But then the doubt creeps back in slowly.
Why did he call me so early?
It’s not even 7:00 p.m. yet.
Was that so he’d have his night free?
“You sure you’re staying in tonight?” I ask.
He laughs. “Yes. I just told you that.”
“And you’re still in Philadelphia?”
He looks confused. “Why would I be in a hotel if I wasn’t?”
I shrug. “You’re staying at the Blue Lotus, right?”
He frowns. “Yes.”
“What room are you in?”
“590.” He frowns. “Pretty sure I told you that when I checked in. You do remember I called you when I got here, don’t you?”