Page 2 of Mafia's Broken Omega

Salvo exhaled loudly and gripped the back of his neck. "Positive. We have the recordings."

I nodded, immediately knowing what Vince would do. What our father would have done. What I was expected to do. "Bring him to the warehouse. I'll handle it."

The words tasted like ash in my mouth, but I stayed stoic.

Salvo nodded once and left the office, probably surprised I’d finally grown a pair.

But had I?

Was I really gonna administer my first death sentence as the head of the family? Yeah, apparently I was.

My hands trembled slightly as I poured another drink. What I really needed was advice from someone who wouldn't see my discomfort as a weakness. Someone who had a vested interest in keeping the Mennetti name respected and in power because of our brother’s mating.

I pulled out my phone and stared at it for several minutes before pulling up Andro Ferrini's direct number. My thumb hovered over the screen as I tried to find the courage to make the call. This wasn't how a powerful leader behaved. Vince never would have reached out to a stranger for help.

But I wasn't Vince. And pretending to be him would get us all killed.

I hit the call button and held my breath. I could keep my cool with Andro. He had been nothing but kind to me since my brother rescued his. He’d assured me on multiple occasions that my family was his family and I could reach out at any time.

And after a quick call, I’d have Davison take me to one of my favorite places. An omega strip club owned by my cousin, Georgie. I’d been going since before I could drive and lost my V-card in one of the back rooms at just fifteen years old. It was a safe space where I could be one of the guys without having to puton a mask of strength and power. With the right attire, I could even pretend to be someone else for the night.

I just hoped there were some cute guys working. The afternoon shift could be hit or miss. It wasn’t usually the A team, but sometimes a hot omega needed to cover a shift or started early.

And with my luck, it would be a bunch of prudes who didn’t do private rooms no matter how big of a tip I promised. It had been too long since I’d been able to get away.

One thing was for certain, I needed to take the edge off if I was going to off the man who was selling our family secrets. A nameless, faceless omega would help me forget about the responsibilities that weighed me down like boulders cascading down a mountainside, knocking me loose one by one until my grip slipped and I let go.

2

AVERY

I left my apartment with the late-afternoon sun still warm on my skin. It was a little earlier than I usually went to work, but I had nothing else to do. Might as well get started on my pole early and bring in some extra cash. Every dollar I pulled out of my G-string was one step closer to early retirement from stripping. Then I’d finally have the freedom to do fun stuff. Stuff that didn’t involve alphas putting their grubby hands on me while I shook my ass.

As I passed a reflective window, I couldn’t help checking out my ass. At least I looked good. For fun, I added a hint of eyeliner that made my eyes pop without announcing my profession to the entire world.

Truthfully, I wasn’t ashamed to be a dancer in an omega strip club. People liked to judge sex workers and sex-adjacent roles…but I didn’t give a shit what they thought of me. They weren’t paying my bills. Being a stripper was filling my piggy bank, but it didn’t define who I was. It was a business decision more than anything else. I didn't touch drugs, didn't drink my tips, and I was careful who I went into the back room with. Most nights, I declined all the extras because I made enough on stage. Quitefrankly, I didn’t have the energy to play nice when up close with the alphas too often.

Choices were my drug, and I was addicted to seeing my savings grow so I could have even more of them.

Besides, my expenses were fairly low. Clothes were the only thing I spent serious money on and that was more of an investment. And technically, they were a write-off. At least that’s what I told myself when I filed my taxes every year.

As long as I was doing it, I put away the majority of what I earned while I still had the energy and looks to pull it off. The extra shifts I'd been picking up were brutal, but every day I started early was a grand in my pocket.

In five years, I wouldn’t be shaking my ass for drunken alphas. This was a short-term sacrifice to ensure I could do whatever the hell I wanted, whether that was traveling the world, starting a business, or just lounging on a beach somewhere without a care.

I reached the nondescript building that hid its neon soul behind dark windows and went inside. Music vibrated through the floor and walls as bodies moved in slow motion. Inside the club, no one could tell it was mid-afternoon outside. The sun didn’t reach this far. If the patrons didn’t know what time it was, then they couldn’t tell how much time had passed.

Another day, another dollar.

The club was almost empty when I arrived, so everyone looked up as I went inside. The other dancers and staff nodded as I passed on my way to the dressing room. I opened my locker and pulled out my stage clothes with the familiar scent of cologne and sweat surrounding me.

These afternoon gigs were nice because I was usually the most popular omega in the place until the night crew showed up. Without actual competition, I could rake it in without burning out. I pulled on a pair of tight shorts and a mesh tank then touched up my makeup in the mirror. I debated on putting one of the chic wigs over my hair, but today was a good hair day, so I opted not to. With a final slide of my palm over my head to smooth out my hair, I headed out front.

As soon as I got on stage, I owned it.

The lights hit my skin, and the bass thrummed through me like a second heartbeat. I moved with the music, slow and sultry, so the small crowd felt like I was dancing just for them. It was a power trip to hold their attention so completely. Every gaze was locked on me, and I fucking loved it. I spun and dropped on the pole, using it as an extension of my body.

The alphas in the room had hunger in their eyes. I knew what they wanted, and I gave it to them…on my terms.

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