Salt arches, grunts, his nails scratching my back, as I let him ride his climax, loving the sight of him, deep in abandonment.
Then I stay connected for a beat before I pull out and settle next to him, pressed against his side.
As if drawn by a magnet, my hand returns to his belly, tracing slowly over that barely-there curve, feeling the powerful vibrations of the life growing there under my fingers.
"Our son."
Salt blushes a little, his cheeks warming like sunrise, but his eyes meet mine with a small smile, intimate, full of that shy joy.
"I will love him, Salt."
"I know."
We just look at each other like that, no words, only that grin spreading between us like a soft wind over the sunny ocean.
???
That evening, when a beta brings us dinner, Salt unexpectedly turns on the dusty television sitting in the corner of the room. As I carry this low-key buzz inside me, I welcome the distraction with a sense of relief. I have never owned a TVand never really watched television, preferring to have more control over my entertainment instead of passively consuming whatever is served.
Still, staring at moving images feels like a strange kind of mental rest in our situation, where we are essentially just waiting for the hand of fate. These moments work like a small shutdown of the brain.
A moment later, the local news comes on.
And suddenly I see the name Ferro scrolling across the breaking news ticker at the bottom of the screen. The sight of those familiar letters sends a jolt through me, like a mild electric shock.
The anchor, a beta, looks straight into the camera and says, "Breaking news. Today, a mysterious event involving a member of the Ferro family has occurred. This well known, wealthy family, long suspected of involvement in numerous semi legal businesses, has suffered a major blow. Its newly appointed boss, Rocco Ferro, was found dismembered in one of the Ferro warehouses along the coast."
I try to say something, but instead I start coughing, choking on a piece of baguette.
Salt pats my back.
The second reporter in the studio, a young omega, speaks up. "The Ferro family has been having a rough time lately. Just three months ago, the previous boss, Anzo, was sent to prison, and now his nephew, Rocco Ferro, considered a dangerous successor with a reputation for recklessness, has lost his life in very gruesome circumstances. Something strange is happening within the Ferro family. Is it time for a change in leadership? Perhaps there’s a more suitable candidate?"
I keep coughing violently.
The other reporter responds with a sly grin. "So, who’s brave or foolish enough to take the ‘throne of certain doom’ next?"
"Fuck," I blurt out, finally able to take a breath. "Fuck! Did Ennio do it that quickly?"
"There appear to be two potential candidates," the beta reporter continues. "Both are nephews of Anzo Ferro, Ennio Ferro and Luca Ferro. Two other brothers fled the fortress several months ago in the chaos that erupted during Anzo’s downfall, and their whereabouts remain unknown."
The omega spreads his hands. "My bet is on Ennio. That would be something, the first omega boss, and honestly, I think everyone would welcome the change in energy. We should keep our fingers crossed it’s him. He’s said to be more of a businessman than a mobster, and the Ferros could really use a new face and some damage control for their shady reputation."
They talk for a while longer, trading lightly sarcastic remarks about my family on air. Under Rocco’s rule, our business certainly did not grow stronger, and the anchors clearly sense that they can afford this tone now that the Ferros have taken yet another hit.
Because of some weird, hard-to-explain loyalty, I feel kind of annoyed at how they treat my family, and I’m mad at Rocco too for giving people a reason to look down on us, but I shake it off fast, since I’m not really part of them anymore.
Right…?
After one last cough, I clear my throat. For a good minute, I just sit there and stare, and Salt sits beside me, glancing at the screen as well.
"Has it finally ended, Salt? Or is it a dream?"
Salt clenches his teeth. "Honestly… I might be dreaming too. This feels like some kind of miracle."
"Miracle? I was hoping for it so badly. But, please. Repeat it to me like I’m slow. Is Rocco really dead?" I mumble in disbelief.
"I think… yes?" He shrugs helplessly.
