The Wrong Omega - 1
The Wrong Omega
1.
Dante’s POV
The Cascata Room felt oppressive, despite its spacious design supported by tall colonnades that allowed the mingling guests to separate in groups then transgress to different ones in search of the next combination that would help them line their pockets with new wealth venues. Dante tipped his head back briefly, observing the chandelier above his head, a monstrosity built out of crystal and steel that could very well flatten and kill him, should an unfortunate divine act would chose that moment to sever the Martelinni omega’s life. A miserable one, Dante reflected. It wouldn’t be so bad as long as it was quick.
“Tay, darling,” a high-pitched voice drew his attention from contemplating his own demise.
Amara Ferrante. Dante concealed his disgust at hearing his nickname in that dirty mouth. With so many eyes on them, it wouldn’t do to make a scene, though Dante was itching for a fight. At least a small one. A conflict. An unpleasant exchange of unpleasantries.
The beta wore a suit that cinched at his waist, drawing attention to his studied flawless silhouette. So many people believed that it was a pity Amara hadn’t manifested as an omega, though he’d had so much promise in his younger years.
“Amara,” Dante said politely, quickly snatching a champagne flute from a nearby tray to keep the beta from hugging him.
It looked like Amara didn’t get the hint, because he pressed himself against Dante, who had to balance his glass so it didn’t spill on his cocktail deux-pièces. Dante wore white for his outer garments, and blood-red, wine-red, crimson-red for what he preferred to cover him underneath. He’d done that for a long time. Just so his husband wouldn’t nurture any hope about his innocence on their wedding night.
Dante hated Mike. And Mike hated him back. But their marriage was a success for both their families, and that was all that mattered for people like them.
“You look amazing,” Amara panted in his ear.
Dante wished he could reach inside his purse for his perfume bottle. His husband’s dog food scent was all over the beta, and Amara knew it. He wanted to stake his claim as publicly as possible, ignoring that Dante didn’t give a damn about who was sucking his husband’s disgusting dick.
Maybe he shouldn’t have been so rebellious about his family’s choice. But when he heard who they chose for him, Dante had bawled his eyes out, begging them shamelessly not to give him that that dog.
He knew, of course, that his choice didn’t matter. Hours later, his eyes dry, Dante had cut ties with the only alpha who had ever made him feel like a truly desired omega. He’d never looked back; he’d never even thought of him, but the place in his heart and in his mind that was supposed to remain sealed for all save for his scent-match alpha remained hollow and painful.
“So do you,” Dante replied once he understood that Amara wanted to hear him offering back the compliment.
“It’s such a nice event,” Amara continued, finally letting go of him. He made a move to take Dante’s arm.
Dante turned so Amara’s hand caught nothing but air. He wasn’t here to mingle, let alone entertain his husband’s latest conquest.
His family expected… things. They preferred them to be done and done quickly. Thankful for the reprieve, he inhaled from his perfume, dulling all the alpha scents in the room. They didn’t usually arouse him; it was more about keeping a sharp mind. Unstimulated.
Dante glimpsed the back of his target’s head for a moment. The house was packed tonight. That, at the same time, made things difficult for him, but also easier.
He snuck his hand inside his purse, taking a step for each rapid breath. Unlike others, who needed to be taught in the art of killing, Dante had a natural knack for it. A thrill coursed through him, head to toe, as his fingers clasped over the poison vial. A little misstep, a little stumble, oh, my sincere apologies, and then, hours later, the man would double over whoever had the misfortune to share a bed with him, maybe even in the middle of intercourse, realizing for a moment that he was dying but unable to speak, quickly an ambulance, but it would be too late, what happened, how unfortunate, we didn’t know his heart was weak, no traces of foul play? No—
Dante lost his balance as someone moved against him from his left. Someone? More like a wall. A wall of muscles that made him stumble back on his high heels, but only for a moment.
He was being lifted off the floor and transported so quickly that he didn’t have time to act. A rough hand covered his mouth, pressing hard. Fingers dug into his cheek, crushing it against his teeth.
How could they move so fast? Dante felt dizzy and unable to act, which was odd, to say the least. Had he been poisoned? Neutralized? But how?
His vision blurred.
***
The next time he opened his eyes, he was in a dark room and could see nothing. The rough hand from before was still over his mouth, which meant not a lot of time must have passed since his kidnapping. Right now, Dante was certain that must’ve happened. Someone daring enough, reckless and insane, had managed to kidnap him from a room full of people.
“I can tell you’re awake,” a deep, masculine voice said. “Hmm. Should I let you live, Martelinni? If you don’t want to die, do as I say.”
Dante got ready to drive an elbow into that asshole’s stomach, but he froze. A scent, one he hadn’t smelled in a very long time, engulfed him. Leather, a touch of smoke, thick, hungry smell.
But that couldn’t be him. The voice was… different. He got a hold of himself quickly. Since he couldn’t talk, he nodded as obviously as he could.
“If you scream, I’ll wring your neck.”
Dante had a mind to open his mouth, no matter how difficult that would be, and bite that heavenly-smelling hand. But he kept himself from doing anything rash. Who was this man who smelled like the one who’d been his only true love?
“I am called Garcia now,” he said primly, as soon as he could talk.
A low chuckle from his kidnapper made a frisson shake his body momentarily. Dante wished he could reach for the scent-blocking perfume inside his purse to prevent his body from acting so insidiously. Over the years, he had come to believe that alpha scents could do nothing to him, and resorting to blockers seemed like an excess of caution, but in the presence of this enemy, he found himself weak in the knees and willing to keen in distress like any healthy, fertile omega in the presence of a compatible alpha would.
“Please turn, Martelinni,” the alpha commanded, ignoring Dante’s comment about now wearing his husband’s last name.
The lights came on, making Dante blink in discomfort. One thing was clear. If he didn’t put all his skills to work, he might not leave this room alive.
“I’d rather not,” Dante said.
“Why?” The alpha sounded amused, willing to indulge him. Oh, the little mercies killers could spare. Dante had never offered such reprieve to any of his victims.
“If I see your face, you will surely kill me,” Dante explained, keeping his voice light and unaffected. He only had to breathe shallowly, to avoid inhaling the alpha’s strong scent, and he’d be fine. “I prefer not to die, given the choice. Let’s negotiate. You appear interested in doing so.”
A strong hand squeezed his shoulder briefly. Then rough fingers lingered on the side of his neck, making him shiver with desire. When had it been the last time he’d felt like this? It had been years. It had never been with his husband, whose scent made him gag.
“I guarantee your life in exchange for your full cooperation. Do I have it?”
“Yes.”
“No hesitation. Don’t even think of playing me, Martelinni. I know what you’re capable of. I assure you: if you cross me, I will end your life.”
“I take your words at face value. You were capable of removing me from a room full of people in such an efficient manner that I do not doubt your abilities.”
“Thank you. I must warn you, however. Your sweet tongue won’t work on me. You, too, are famous for your abilities.”
Dante felt a small, unpleasant jolt squeezing his rib cage momentarily. Although he was doing plenty of dirty work for his family, he made sure no one knew it was him behind those divine acts of retribution smiting the Martelinnis’ enemies. Rumors, very few, were quickly buried. So who was this man who assumed so directly that Dante wasn’t what he claimed to be – a benign, weak omega?
He turned abruptly, making his assailant’s hand slide from his neck and brush against his chest for the briefest of moments. His nipple hardened, but Dante caught the gasp climbing up his throat just in time.
Fortunately for him. His eyes widened as they set on the handsome alpha in front of him. He was tall, towering as any alpha would over a little ol’ omega like Dante by a few good inches, dressed in a dark suit that draped his body like it had been tailored, cut and sewn directly on him, and smiling like the cat that just got the mouse.
His hair and eyes were dark, too, leaving no room for guessing. Dante knew who he was staring at, on the brink of losing his cool and starting to whine like an omega in heat.
“Mateo Salazar,” he said, proud of how well he managed to control his voice. He crossed his arms over his chest, hoping his nipples weren’t poking through the fabric. The last thing he needed was to give this arrogant alpha a reason to mock him.
“In flesh and blood. My pleasure. Please allow me to kiss your hand, Princess.”
Dante scoffed in disbelief. This alpha could smell like heaven on earth; but he was an absolute asshole, throwing that annoying nickname at him like that.
He enjoyed showing his body just as much as the next omega. But Dante longed for wearing other clothes, for exchanging the torturous high heels with sneakers, and maybe even eat a goddamn hamburger once in a blue moon. Maybe he’d find them unpleasant, all of that. He couldn’t recall ever trying. Being allowed to try. The perfect princess – that was his role to play.
“I assure you,” Dante chuckled darkly, “that I’m all male underneath these gorgeous clothes.”
The Salazar’s eyes lit up with amusement. He could definitely be charming when he wanted to, smiling with his entire face like that.
“I wouldn’t mind checking that with my own eyes. My prince.”
Dante licked his lips and dug his short nails into his palms. Under the guise that he needed to keep his nails short to ensure the success of his assassination missions, he had drawn a line at that. Funny how he was sure he would’ve loved the feminine aspects of his life as an omega if only they hadn’t been stuffed down his throat like that. No choice made for a bitter life.
“Your family is not known for breeding gentlemen,” Dante said, his lips thinning into a knowing smile. If Mateo Salazar was so easy to play, he’d play the game. He knew very well how coveted he still remained despite being mocked openly by his husband every day. Alphas, and not only them, looked at him and saw a prize.
Only because he was a Martelinni.
Only because he was an omega with a perfect pedigree.
Fame and money made fools of people everywhere.
Mateo stared at him for a few long moments. His grin widened. “I apologize in the name of my family then,” he said, placing a hand over his heart in mock admission of his shortcomings.
As if he had any.
“Apologies accepted,” Dante said brightly. “May I please return to the party? I must be missed by now.”
“Fat chance of that. I saw your husband and his new bitch.” Mateo said the word lightly, as if it wasn’t the insult it represented.
Amara was a bitch, though. Only that Dante wasn’t prepared to agree with anything coming out of this Salazar’s mouth, unless it meant he’d walk out of this room unhurt.
“Adding insult to injury. Should I offer you a round of applauses?” Dante asked.
“Injury? Are you hurt anywhere, darling?”
“Call your mother ‘darling’, not me, you dog,” Dante snapped.
His emotional outburst was met with a hearty laugh.
“Come on, tell me what you want, so we can part ways. As civilized people, hopefully,” Dante added, scolding himself inwardly for slipping.
“You are exactly as people describe you.” Mateo continued to give him an appraising look that made Dante’s skin break into goosebumps.
“Fashionable and sweet?” Dante offered with a thin smile.
Mateo laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners, never losing his hostage from his sight for a moment. “Cold and efficient.”
Dante frowned briefly. If anyone else said such a thing, he’d take it as a compliment. Just how much was this alpha affecting him? Such simple words, thrown at him like daggers. By a steady, strong hand.
“Hmm,” he grunted. “Very well. It looks like you know who you’re dealing with. Let’s hear your proposal.”
Mateo inclined his head, as if to show his respect. Dante didn’t intend to let himself be fooled so easily.
“It is in my interest that the one who served as your target tonight remains alive for at least the next three weeks.”
“May I inquire why?”
“He needs to greenlight a project my family has been working on for the last year. Construction permits are a bitch to get, as I’m sure you know.”
“He’s not insensible to bribe. Have you tried that?”
Mateo nodded. “Of course. But he keeps moving the goalpost. We are finally reaching an understanding. Time is of the essence. Should you have succeeded tonight, it would have cost my family millions, as well as a lot of annoyance.”
“I’m sure your family can afford both a money loss and nuisances of this kind.”
“Do you know us well?”
It was a trap. Dante’s romantic affair with Ricardo Salazar had lasted little. But Rico had been adamant when they broke it off; Dante better not cross paths with a Salazar again, or things might get ugly. So far, Dante had made sure to stay clear of them. His heart had been broken and it would never mend; but Rico had only seen an omega rejecting him.
Which was for the best. If Rico had suspected that Dante was being coerced into marriage, he would’ve rained hell on the Martelinnis and left scorched earth behind. Once more, Dante had saved his family at the cost of his own happiness.
So, that begged the question: how much did Mateo Salazar know of the short affair that happened between his current hostage and his brother?
“No,” Dante replied in a voice that could freeze boiling water in an instant. “I can’t say that I do. My apologies if my remarks came across as insults. If I offended you, it was completely unintentional.” He added a sweet smile that made his face muscles hurt.
“You’re a piece of work, Martelinni.”
“My name is Garcia.”
“It doesn’t fit you.”
Of course it didn’t. Dante hated every moment spent in the company of his husband. At least, the dislike between them ran both ways. Mike had let him know he only felt disgust whenever he happened to smell his omega spouse. If the Garcias hoped the Martelinni omega they had acquired for their son would eventually produce an heir, they were mistaken.
Another line drawn in the sand.
“What makes you think I won’t carry my mission once you let me go?”
“Your word.”
Dante felt his lips twitching. “I don’t recall giving it.”
“You will.” Mateo spoke slowly, while his eyes continued to move over Dante’s body like a caress.
It was too much. Dante closed his eyes and reached into his purse in an unconscious gesture. Mateo smelled too good.
“I wouldn’t do that I were you,” came the warning.
Dante’s eyes snapped open. “I find most alphas’ scents offensive. Forgive me if I need to--”
“Most alphas’ scents?” Mateo moved slowly, like a graceful predator, making Dante fight his instincts just to remain standing in the same spot. He leaned over, his lips close to Dante’s ear. “I have it on good authority that you are not as opposed to the Salazar scent as you pretend to be.”
So Rico had told his older brother a few things. “Is this about revenge, then?” he asked. “For your brother?”
“No. I am a businessman,” Mateo replied, without moving away.
Dante could only do this much not to start trembling.
It was his luck that Mateo chose to straighten up and let him breathe.
Dante took out his scent-blocker and inhaled from it, his eyes already wet, his mouth filled with saliva.
When he dared to look at Mateo, he read something else in those dark, compelling eyes.
Danger. But not the common kind.
“Your word, Martelinni. Or I’ll expose your little hobby, and no matter how much influence your family has, you will go to trial and tarnish their reputation. You know, that giant with mud feet they keep on bragging about.”
Dante stared at Mateo with all the stubbornness he could master. Now that he couldn’t smell the alpha that well anymore, he could afford a few cutting words instead of goodbye.
“People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”
Mateo nodded approvingly. “Well? What do you say? Can you keep your dainty little fingers off that poison vial you intended to drop in your target’s drink tonight?”
“I suppose,” Dante said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Good. I must accept it’s the most I can get from you.”
Dante narrowed his eyes. It had to be an act, and he’d expected Mateo to insist on him giving his word he’d do as told.
“We have a deal then, Salazar,” he said.
“Excellent. Now, before I let you go back to the party and enjoy watching your husband’s pawing his new toy, I need to warn you.”
“Yes, I know. You’ll kill me if I don’t keep my end of the deal.”
“That is not what I want to warn you about.” Mateo gestured at Dante, somewhere below his chin.
Dante looked down, confused. He gasped as he realized his nipples were steel-hard and visible through the fabric of his elegant top.
“If you walk back looking like that, what will people think?”
Dante blinked, starting to see red before his eyes. “No one will notice,” he snapped.
“Really? Except your husband, who must be blind and have a defective nose, every alpha in that room wants you. You might not realize it, but in your effort to dizzy me with your pheromones, you did yourself a great disservice. I hate to break it to you, Martelinni, but you look ready to fuck.”
Dante bit his bottom lip hard to keep himself from letting a small moan. Uttering dirty words should be illegal for this alpha. What was this jerk talking about? He hadn’t released any pheromones on purpose. Oh, wait—
This Salazar asshole must have triggered it.
“So, if you want to prevent ending up with your legs up in the air with a line of alphas before you ready to stick it in you tonight, consequences and social norms be damned, you will accept my help.”
“What help?” Dante gasped. As much as he wanted to prove Mateo wrong, he knew that the alpha was correct in his assumptions.
Right now, he smelled like an omega ready to go into heat. Because his husband didn’t touch him, Dante could afford to go light on suppressants and use them only when exposed to other alphas for a duration of time that made such proximity dangerous, regardless of his usual disinterest in them.
Damn this Salazar and his scent. They were the only ones to blame for what was happening to Dante right now.
But he didn’t say a word. Mateo believed that Dante had released his pheromones on purpose, to manipulate him.
That was preferable to the truth.
“What help?” he repeated his question, this time more harshly.
Mateo raised his hand and used only the tip of his index finger to caress Dante’s jawline slowly.
“I’m afraid there’s no helping it, darling. You need an alpha right now, one who won’t fold to your charms, and it looks like I’m the only one available.”
tbc
