Page 1 of Omega's Vengeance

Prologue

Dario

I’m flabbergasted when the sexy blond omega seated alone at the bar refuses the drink I bought him. I can’t remember the last time an omega turned me down. Doesn’t he know who I am? I’m Dario Coppola, Black Knives syndicate leader Valentino Syracuse’ssecond. That commands respect in Los Demonios. That little omega should be trembling in fear that he just disrespected Valentino’s right-hand man. But as he glances at me over his shoulder, his expression isn’t anything close to fear. He looks… smug?

Lewis, the bartender, gives me an apologetic smile and a little shrug. My cheeks heat because he looks almost sorry for me.

Fuck that.

I stand, bumping the table, and the two guys I’m with, Lucio and Paul, look up at me questioningly.

“Something wrong, boss?” Paul asks, glancing around warily, putting his hand on his piece under his jacket. “You see something coming?”

“No. Relax,” I rasp, eyes still trained on the omega who refused my drink.

Lucio’s gaze follows mine. “Oh.” He elbows Paul. “Boss is on the hunt.”

Not responding, I move slowly toward the bar and stand behind the omega. I can tell he feels my presence. His shoulders are rigid, belying the dismissive look he shot me a moment ago. I inch closer, wanting him to feel the heat of my body hovering. I inhale his sugary lavender omega scent. He must know who I am, so I’m intrigued by his standoffish behavior. But that’s okay. I like the chase.

Sometimes it’s the best part.

“Something wrong with the drink?” I ask gruffly.

The omega hesitates and then once more glances over his shoulder at me. The second our eyes meet, my cock is hard. Up close, he looks even tastier. Thick, black lashes surround stunning jade-green eyes. His lips are full and red like ripe cherries, and his features aristocratic and refined. He’s fucking gorgeous. He’s like something Johannes Vermeer might paint. A little smile has the corner of his mouth inching upward.

“When an alpha buys me a drink, I prefer it when he does so in person.” His voice is husky. Confident.

Okay, I can work with that.

So, he’s not disinterested. He’s high-maintenance. Fair enough. I take the empty barstool next to him. “Well, I’m here now.”

“Yes, you are.”

“What’s your name?” I ask, signaling to Lewis to get the guy another drink and me as well.

“Alessio.”

“Do you have a last name, Alessio?”

“Does it matter? Are you planning on embroidering my initials on something?”

I laugh. I can’t help it. He’s a smart ass, and I’m partial to mouthy omegas. The mouthier they are, the more I love conquering them in bed. “Okay, so no last names.”

He studies me, and I’m surprised to feel my pulse flutter a bit. That isn’t like me. Omegas don’t get under my skin very often. But he does. I really want to fuck this omega. I don’t care where either. I’ll take him right here on the bar if he wants. I can just imagine what it would feel like to have his warm, lithe body trembling beneath mine. I haven’t wanted anyone this much in a while. I think it’s his snooty manner that’s getting me so turned on. I doubt he’d look that unflappable with my cock pounding his ass.

Lewis sets our drinks down in front of us. Alessio picks up his martini, and I grab my whiskey and hold out my glass. “To new connections.”

He smirks a bit. “Sure. That works.” He sips his drink, licking his lips once he’s swallowed.

“I haven’t seen you in here before. You look too classy for this joint.”

“Yeah?” He shrugs. “Well, sometimes I like to slum around with the little people. It pisses off my dad, and I love pissing him off.”

“Is that right? I don’t suppose you’ll tell me who your dad is?”

“Nope.” He laughs, and it sounds sincere.

“Okay, I don’t mind not knowing.” I sip my drink and then add, “I hated my old man too.”

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