Wow. I actually succeeded in inviting a mafia man to dance. That is something.
I take his hand and lead him toward the dance floor. His hand is cool and firm. The rule is that the taller partner leads, regardless of gender, especially when two omegas dance together. Ennio is probably close to five foot ten, so he is noticeably taller than me. The music is thankfully slow enough that we can sway without much technique or direction.
My left hand rests on his shoulder and our right hands are loosely joined. It feels strange, and interestingly his touch is not as unpleasant as the touch of other people, more neutral than anything else.
Ennio stays silent as we begin to dance.
"You wanted something from me, Alex Strada?"
"Nothing specific. I just wanted to meet again the person who did something for me that no one else ever did."
"And what would that be?" Ennio asks in his particular tone.
I allow myself a bit of dramatic flair.
"You saved the love of my life."
His perfectly even brows lift slightly. "I thought you two weren’t together anymore."
"I intend to change that," I say in a tone that borders on arrogant.
"How do you change incompatibility?" Ennio asks with mild boredom, looking off to the side above my head as if the whole subject were doomed from the start.
"Genetic therapy? I hope something like that will work."
His cool face shows a tiny flicker of interest, although he still keeps staring somewhere over my head.
"Then good luck."
That was his whole comment, I guess.
"Are you still in touch with him?" I ask.
His brow lifts a little. "You are not expecting me to answer that question."
I hesitate. "I always felt like you helped him more than I did back then. I wanted to thank you for that too, and I never really had the chance. People can say a lot of terrible things about your family, but that one thing you did for us, you will never be bad to me. You will always be our… savior."
His face remains cold, but the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth and the subtle shift in his energy tell me he is not grateful for the compliment.
"You do not know what you are saying. But I cannot blame you because you do not know me."
"True, I do not know you. But even if you are a monster, that one time you were not."
Ennio does not reply.
"Can I ask you something? It is about that Mark Ferguson. I do not know him at all, but my cousin has convinced himself he is going to build a family with him… I think someone like you might have a better read on the situation than I do, and I am a little worried about him…"
Ennio’s black eyes settle on my face and study me for a moment, and I study him right back. It is fascinating how he radiates this incredible coldness. He looks almost too perfect in his tailored suit with his hair combed back into a tight ponytail, his facial features so flawless, yet that frost that saturates him strips away part of his charm, drains his vibrancy, makes him feel like a sketch of a man rather than someone fully alive.
Since he does not answer, I dare to ask differently, maybe phrasing it this way will work.
"Would you marry him?"
"I do not date alphas."
"But if you did, would you marry him?"
"Never."
