Page 57 of Omega's Vengeance

I grab the big book and carry it over to a small table by the window. I sit down and begin looking through the book, although I’m not really seeing anything. I’m confused by why my heart aches lately every time I look at Dario. Oblivious to my mental meltdown, he joins me. He throws the empty plate in the trash and sits at the small table with me. When his leg brushes mine, I jerk away and he frowns.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing.” My voice is clipped and I focus on the photos in the book.

He wrinkles his brow. “Did I do something to annoy you? Are you mad because I ate all the cake by myself?”

“No.” I glance up and meet his puzzled gaze. “Nothing is wrong. I’m just annoyed that I have to choose a cake for a wedding I don’t want to have.”

He leans closer. “You know, I’d have shared the cake if you’d simply asked.”

“Dario,” I rumble, “I don’t care about thecake.”

“Well, something has you looking upset. I know you better than you think I do, Alessio. I can tell something is bothering you.”

I meet his gaze, annoyed when I notice how long and dark his lashes are. “I’m not upset. I promise. I… I just want to get this over with, okay?”

He looks skeptical as he says, “Hmmm.”

I turn a few more pages, aware of his leg touching mine again. I don’t want to pull my leg away though, or he’ll think I’m mad. I turn another page and come upon four smaller cakes. One of the small, two-tier cakes catches my eye and makes me stop turning pages.

The cake is enrobed in a silky, ivory colored buttercream frosting. Adorning the cake are delicate swirls and dots reminiscent of vintage lace. There’s also a small bouquet of edible lavender sugar flowers at the top, each tiny flower showing a marvel of detail. The cake is simple but elegant. I know instantly that’s the cake I want.

“Pretty.” Dario puts his finger on the photo of the cake I like. “I wouldn’t mind that one.”

I glance up surprised. “You like that one?”

He nods. “I do. I think it’s my favorite so far. We should probably taste it though before we decide.”

“Yeah.” I say softly, “I… I like that one too.”

He smiles at me, and that annoying ache returns as our eyes meet. I drag my gaze from his and stand quickly, bumping into the table. I carry the book over to the counter. “I think we know the cake we want.”

The old woman comes over. “Which one?”

I show her and she nods. “That one has layers of sponge cake, separated by raspberry buttercream filling. You can do strawberry if you’d rather. There’s just a hint of lemon zest too. It’s delicious if I do say so myself. It’s my husband’s favorite.”

Dario joins me. I can feel the heat of his body behind me, and my pulse picks up. I’m flustered by what’s going on with me today. I feel jittery anytime he’s near me. I don’t like it one bit. I want to be able to ignore Dario, but today that seems impossible. I keep hoping this pull toward him will wane, but it seems to be getting stronger.

“We can do either raspberry or strawberry,” I address Dario gruffly. “Which do you prefer?”

“I like either.”

I turn to the old woman. “We’ll do raspberry.” I just need to get this cake shopping crap over with. I need some distance from Dario.

We fill out all the paperwork and Dario pays her a deposit. Then we leave the bakery, and return to the car. Dario tries to talk about other wedding details on the way back to Valentino’s home, but I only answer him with one word responses. I feel his frustration. I’m sure he has no idea why I’m being standoffish again.

I get the sense that, while Dario didn’t want this marriage, he’s now fully on board. He’s accepted that this is how it’s going to be, and he just does what needs doing. Is that because Valentino has given him his orders, and he’ll blindly follow them?

Such a good little soldier.

I’m not sure why the idea he’s marrying me because Valentino told him to irks me. It’s not like I want him to marry me for any other reason. I don’t want to marry him at all. I’m definitely not looking forward to sharing his bed.

Liar.

I grit my teeth against the lust that shifts through me at the thought of being in his bed. Being his omega.Belongingto him. I touch the bite mark on my throat as heat flushes through me. If we truly are fated mates, the universe has a perverse sense of humor.

We enter the intersection on a green light. Still feeling agitated, I glance out the window to my right. I’m horrified to see a white SUV barreling toward us as it runs the red light. I open my mouth to shout a warning, but the SUV slams into us before I can get one word out.

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