Page 12 of The Omega Accountant

I nodded, turning toLuca. "Waitfor me in the car.Carlowill escort you."

Fear flickered briefly across his features before he controlled it. "Ican stay."

"No."Theword emerged sharper than intended, my instincts divided between keeping him close for protection and removing him from imminent danger. "I'llhandle this."

Reluctantly, he allowedCarloto guide him from the room, my consigliere's hand hovering near but not touching him—respecting my claim while ensuringLuca'ssafety.Iwatched them go, waiting until the door closed behind them before facing my father.

"Your study, then,"Isaid, an heir apparent's deference layered over underboss defiance.

TheDon'sstudy remained unchanged since my childhood—the same heavy oak desk, the same leather chairs, the same oppressive weight of family legacy hanging in the air like smoke.Myfather closed the door behind us, the soft click more menacing than a slammed door would have been.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he demanded, veneer of civility evaporating the moment we were alone.

I moved to the sideboard, pouring myself two fingers of scotch with deliberate calm. "Claimingan omega that interests me.Iwasn't awareIneeded permission."

"You need permission to sabotage a strategic alliance that's been years in the making."Hestalked toward me, alpha rage rolling off him in waves of pine and amber turned acrid with fury. "TheSouzagirl brings territory, political connections, alliance opportunities.Whatdoes your accountant bring besides a tight ass?"

The crude assessment ignited something primal in my chest, a growl building beforeIcould suppress it. "Becareful,Father."

"Or what?"Helaughed, the sound devoid of humor. "You'lldefend his honor?Theomega you've known for what—a day?Theconvenient distraction who appeared just when theSofiaarrangement became imminent?"

I sipped my scotch, using the burn to focus my thoughts. "Lucaisn't a distraction.He'smine."

"He's nothing," my father spat. "Aweak omega who stumbled into something bigger than himself.He'llbreak the first time real pressure is applied."

The words struck closer to my own doubts thanIcared to admit—not aboutLuca'sworth, but about his safety in our world.I'dbrought him into deeper danger by claiming him publicly, painting a target on him that couldn't be erased.

"You're wrong about him,"Isaid, setting down my glass with more force than necessary. "Andyou're wrong about this alliance.TheSouzaswant our distribution routes, not a merger of bloodlines.Sofiawas their bargaining chip, nothing more."

"AndIsuppose your accountant told you this?"Contemptdripped from every word.

"No.Mysources in their organization did."Imoved to stand directly before him, matching his posture—alpha to alpha, son to father, future to past. "Thesame sources who report thatEmilioSouzahas been meeting with theVenuccifamily to discuss alternative arrangements.Thisdinner was always a formality.Theynever intended to honor the marriage contract."

Doubt flickered across my father's features before hardening back to certainty. "Evenif that's true, it doesn't justify throwing away years of planning for some omega office worker."

"I'm not asking for your approval."Thewords hung between us, the unspoken challenge they carried clear as broken glass. "I'vemade my choice."

My father studied me with the cold calculation that had built our empire from nothing. "You'llregret this.He'sweak.He'llcompromise you when it matters most."

"He's mine,"Irepeated simply. "I'llmake him strong."

For a moment, something almost like pride flickered in my father's eyes—not for my choice, but for my unwavering stance.Itvanished quickly, replaced by theDon'strademark resolve.

"Get out," he said quietly. "Takeyour omega and go.Butknow this—the next time you enter this house, you'll come prepared to explain exactly what you know about our missing funds.Oryou won't enter at all."

The implicit accusation hung between us like smoke—thatImight be involved in the theft, thatLucamight be my accomplice rather than my informant.Ishould have anticipated this angle of attack.

"I'll bring you answers,"Ipromised, moving toward the door. "Butthey won't be the ones you expect."

I left without waiting for his response, striding through the hallways of my childhood home with the certainty that boundaries had been redrawn tonight.Therole of dutiful son had been shed like an outgrown skin, revealing something more dangerous beneath—a man with his own territory to defend, his own omega to protect.

Carlo waited beside the car, his expression carefully neutral asIapproached. "Thepackage is secure," he reported, our code forLuca'ssafety.

The tactical efficiency was exactly whyCarlowas my consigliere—he'd stationedLucain the car the moment the dining room doors closed, a protective perimeter established before anyone could follow.Myfather's men wouldn't have had time to intercept them whileIkept theDonoccupied in his study.

"And?"

"Three of theDon'smen attempted to approach.Theywere... discouraged."Theslight satisfaction inCarlo'svoice told me whatIneeded to know—my consigliere had defended my claim, established my autonomy from my father's authority.

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