Omega Trapped: MM Mafia Romance Mpreg, page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Author’s Note
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
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Copyright (c) 2023 by Beau Brown
Omega
Trapped
By Beau Brown
Author’s Note
Dear reader,
This story contains violence, discussions of abortion, and graphic sex scenes. If this is something that upsets you, please don’t read this story. Of course, there is a happy ending.
I hope you enjoy reading about Valentino and Nico as much as I loved writing their story.
Beau
Prologue
Nico
I’m in heat and high as a kite.
I feel drowsy from all the drugs and pheromones swirling inside of me. Sweat covers my body, and I can barely open my eyes. The alpha fucking me doesn’t care if I’m conscious or not. That’s how he always is. I don’t even know his real name. He makes me call him El Supremo. I can’t stand him. He’s got a fucking huge ego, but he brings me drugs, so I let him use my body. I’ve long since given up caring that he’s a dick. It’s how I survive. I have no money. No family. No home.
But I have heroin.
Might as well get high and let this alpha fuck me. At least then, I have some degree of pleasure in my life. Sometimes I even come. I’m alone. Unclaimed. It’s hard never being touched. Kissed. Stroked. That desire to be caressed is part of an omega’s DNA. So I let El Supremo take what he wants, and I get what I need too.
Well, I do it for the drugs. Let’s not kid ourselves.
Heroin helps me forget how shitty my life is. I just drift off, and it’s like I’m not even here anymore. It’s not like there’s a lot of joy in my life that I’m missing out on. Why be awake when I could be numb?
El Supremo finishes inside me with a grunt. He pulls out and swears under his breath. “Fuck. The condom broke,” he grumbles.
I hold his irritable gaze, trying to make sense of his jumbled words. “What?”
He studies me with his cold dark eyes. He’s older than me, and there’s a streak of white hair at his temple. He’s not particularly attractive. His body is okay, but he looks mean.
He is mean.
“The condom broke again?” I mumble. “Why do they always break with you?” I know why. Because he’s rough. Brutal.
“Shit. You’re in heat too.” His eyes harden. “That’s not good.”
I’m finding it difficult to focus on anything but the drugs buzzing deliciously through my bloodstream. “It’ll be okay,” I say, hoping he’ll just leave so I can enjoy my heroin high.
“Not if you’re knocked up it won’t be,” he mutters.
I scowl. “You’re ruining my buzz.”
“Is that right? Don’t want to come down yet?” He glances around at the grungy little motel room he rented for the hour. “I guess I can’t blame you for that.”
I grunt and close my eyes.
I feel him watching me, and then he says, “Hey, you want another bag? I have an extra. You can have it for free.”
My eyes fly open. “For free?” I’ve known him a few months, and he’s never once offered me an extra bag of heroin. He’s definitely never given me a damn thing for free. There’s always a cost. “You don’t want anything for it?”
“Nah.”
I squint at him. “Really?”
“I’m in a generous mood.” He curls his lip. “Do you want it or not?”
I know he’s not doing this out of the goodness of his heart, but my greed overrides the warning bells. “Yeah. Yeah, I… I want it.”
He reaches into his suit jacket and then holds the little baggie out. “Here.”
I reach for it, and he pulls it away.
“Hey.” I scowl at him, not sure what game he’s playing.
“Let me watch you take it.”
“But it’s too soon.” He must know that. I’m still extremely high. “I… I’ll take it later.”
He shrugs. “You either take it now, or the offer is off the table.”
I quickly hold out my trembling hand. “Give it to me. Don’t take it away.” My need burns through my body as I look at him pleadingly. It’s dangerous to take more drugs so soon, but I can’t just let him walk away. I need that heroin. I fucking need it.
He tosses it to me, his expression icy. “Hurry up. I have places to be.”
Hands shaking, I fumble around for the piece of foil I use to heat the drugs and my lighter. I know this is reckless, but if I don’t use the drug now, he’ll take it away. I can’t let that happen. It’s free. How the fuck can I turn that down?
I shake out the heroin onto the foil, holding my straw between my teeth. I click the lighter a few times, and when the flame finally appears, I heat the bottom of the foil until the powder turns to liquid. As a vapor appears, I inhale it through the straw. My lungs burn, and I hold the vapor there, excitement rushing through me.
It only takes a few minutes, and the effects hit me. “Oh, fuck yeah,” I whimper, closing my eyes. At first, it’s heaven. The rush and following euphoria surround me like a lover’s arms. My mouth is dry, my skin is flushed, and my arms feel heavy. Everything is perfect until my breathing becomes slow and shallow. Too shallow. I can’t seem to pull air into my lungs.
Feeling alarmed, I open my eyes. El Supremo watches me with a strange expression. I’m surprised he’s still here. Usually, he’d have left already. The intensity of his gaze makes me feel like a bug under a microscope.
“I don’t feel so good,” I mumble, rolling onto my side. “Something’s wrong.”
“Yeah.”
My skin is clammy, and the nausea increases. My lungs feel like deflated balloons as I struggle to suck in some oxygen. I struggle to sit up because I feel like I’m suffocating. But my muscles are too weak, and I slide back down as my entire body begins to shake. Still, he just watches me, his expression impersonal. When my muscles convulse, real fear jolts through me. I’m overdosing. I grit my teeth and whimper, “Help me.”
“No. I don’t think so.”
I hold out my hand to him. “Please. Please.”
He sighs. “It’s a shame. I really liked fucking you.”
It takes a minute for me to comprehend what’s happening. He’s not at all concerned I seem to be overdosing right in front of him. He’s not the least bit surprised either.
“I’m begging you,” I whisper, but he ignores me. Through blurry eyes, I watch him leave the grimy motel room without a glance back.
Chapter One
Valentino
“I shouldn’t even be telling you this. I could get killed,” hisses the old woman as she sets a basket of bread on the table. “But they’re conspiring against you, sir.”
I frown and help myself to a slice of warm french bread. “Who’s conspiring against me?” I butter the bread, holding her gaze. “Have you been hitting the vino again, Marguerite?”
She glances around uneasily. “No. Listen to me, Valentino. I’m being serious.”
I sigh. “Okay, spill it. Who’s colluding against me this time?” Marguerite means well. She’s fiercely loyal to my family, which is a plus in this world. The problem is she often sees conspiracies where they don’t exist. At least once a month, she comes to me to warn me of doom and gloom. I appreciate that she’s looking out for the Syracuse family, but I have a lot of real problems to deal with.
“Roberto. Who else?”
I frown. “I have people watching him. They haven’t noticed anything.”
She rolls her eyes. “People talk around me when they might keep quiet around others. They don’t notice me. It’s the one benefit of being a server. I’m basically invisible.”
I study her. She seems legitimately agitated. But then, Marguerite always seems on edge. “Okay, tell me what you’ve heard.”
“Roberto is coming for you.”
I try not to laugh. I already know that Roberto is coming for me. It’s well-known that he wants to take over as head of the Black Knives syndicate. If he were a stranger, I’d have had him assassinated long ago. Unfortunately, he’s my brother. Although not by blood. My father killed Roberto’s father over a debt many years ago. My father took pity on the five-year-old Roberto, and he raised him as his own. The problem with my father’s generosity was that he already had two sons. Bringing Roberto in caused some friction among the family. My younger brother Paolo always resented Roberto more than me. Perhaps that’s because I’m the eldest, therefore, my place was set from birth. Paolo felt more threatened when Father brought Roberto home.
Plus, Roberto has always been arrogant. He’s easy to dislike.
Even as a child, Roberto wanted to boss everyone around. I mostly ignored him, which did
“Do you have any specific plans that Roberto has made?” I ask.
Marguerite gives a sharp nod. “I heard him tell his men that the best way to bring you down is to make you look like a fool.”
“Okay. But how exactly does he plan on doing that?” I take a bite of soft bread, chewing as I hold her gaze. Her words don’t thrill me, but I need details.
She grimaces. “Well, I don’t know exactly what he’s going to do. But, sir, you’re the rightful heir to your father’s seat. Roberto shouldn’t even be scheming. I don’t understand why you don’t put a stop to it.”
“So far, it’s just talk. How would I stop him from talking?”
“Well… you’re a very powerful man. You can shut him up if you want.”
I lift one brow. “Would you have me murder him?”
She swallows hard. “I’m not saying that exactly.”
“What are you saying? Because unless I have him killed, he’s just going to keep having meetings and scheming. I can’t tie him up in my basement.”
She laughs gruffly. “Actually, you could. That might not be a bad idea, sir.”
I study her, taking in her crooked teeth and the deep lines in her tanned face. I’ve known her most of my life. I’ve known a lot of people in this area my entire life, but I don’t trust them all like I do, Marguerite. “I appreciate your loyalty, Marguerite. I won’t forget it.”
“Oh, I don’t need anything for being loyal. Besides, I’ve never really liked Roberto. He’s too much like his father. He thinks he’s entitled to things without any consequences.”
“A lot of people think that.”
“Yes.” She nods. “I’ll keep my eyes and ears peeled, sir.”
“I have little doubt of that.” I smile at her, feeling a nudge of something close to affection. Other than my family and Dario, I don’t tend to get attached to people. It’s safer that way. Easier too, in case I need to… discipline someone.
She moves away to help another table. Our conversation reminds me that I do need to keep more of an eye on Roberto. He can be quite conniving. I probably give him too much leeway because I pity him. But I’m my father’s legitimate successor. It’s a problem that Roberto keeps questioning that. The more he does that, the more questions form in the minds of men who never would’ve had questions to begin with.
I finish my meal and go out to my Mercedes. Dario, my secondhand man, leans against the car, smoking a cigarette. When he sees me becoming, he flicks the cigarette down and crushes it under his shoe.
“How was lunch?” he asks.
“Lonely. You should have joined me.” He opens the door for me, and I slide onto the back seat.
“I told you I’d already eaten.” He closes the door and gets behind the steering well.
“So what? You still could’ve kept me company.” I grab my briefcase that’s on the seat next to me. I flick the locks open and pull out a stack of papers.
“I had no idea you were so needy, Valentino,” Dario says. I can’t see his expression because he’s wearing sunglasses, but he sounds amused.
“I don’t like eating alone. I never have. You know that. Or you should, seeing as you’ve been with me since we were toddlers.” I smirk. “Were you afraid I’d make you pick up the check?”
He grins, his cheek curving as he starts the car. “Maybe.”
I scoff. “When’s the last time that happened?” I’m interrupted from saying anything else when my phone rings. I dig my cell from my suit pocket and look at the caller ID. “Hello, dear mother,” I say drolly. “What can I do for you?”
“Your father needs to talk to you.” She sounds tense.
I hesitate. “Is it serious?” My father is dying of lung cancer, so lately, every conversation feels serious. He’s running out of time, but trying to get all his ducks in a row. I can feel how frantic he is, and it makes me feel sick. I’ve always known I’d take over from him. I just never expected it to be so soon.
I’m only twenty-six. That’s young for this job. This position requires the respect of the men around you. I believe I have that, for the most part. But I’m decades younger than many of the men who have served my father. I’m not sure if my youth will be a problem for them in the future. The scary part is, I won’t know until my father’s gone who’s truly loyal to me and who isn’t.
“Yes. It’s very serious.”
My gut churns. “I’ll be right there.”
There’s obvious relief in her voice as she says, “Thank you, Valentino.” As hard as this is on me, it’s much harder on her. My father and her were brought together as a business deal. Their marriage was the melding of her father’s smaller Lambino syndicate and the larger Black Knives. As the years passed, their arrangement turned into love. So now, she faces the loss of the love of her life.
I hang up, and Dario is already turning the car around and heading toward my family estate. When we reach my home, we drive through wrought-iron gates adorned with intricate scrollwork. The gates open onto a winding cobblestone driveway lined with cypress trees, white and purple Bougainvillea, and Oleander.
Even though I’ve lived here all my life, I’m always struck by the beauty of my family home. The mansion has warm, earth-toned stucco walls, which are an understated blend of ochre and cream hues. This color palette complements the terracotta roof tiles, giving the estate an air of rustic elegance. The architecture is a delicate fusion of Mediterranean and Spanish styles, with arches, Italianate columns, and French country shutters.
Dario parks the car, and I get out and hurry up the steps into the house. It’s cool inside the home. The open floor plan and tile floors do nothing to combat the chilly autumn temperature. It’s October, one of my favorite months of the year, but with my father’s impending death, it’s hard to find joy lately.
Despite my father’s illness, he refuses to be bedridden. I know I’ll find him in his study. Sure enough, when I enter the big room, he’s there behind his large mahogany desk. He’s lost many pounds the last few months, but despite his frail appearance he’s as strong-willed and commanding as ever.
“Valentino.” He waves me over. “Good. You’re here.”
“Of course.” I perch on the arm of an oversized armchair near the desk. I refuse to sit in the smaller Queen Anne style chairs he places in front of his desk. I know very well that he has people sit there so that they feel small.
“Something’s come up.” His voice is terse.
I instinctively brace myself for a battle of wills. Illness doesn’t keep my father from being a formidable foe. “Okay, what is it?”
“I’ll just cut to the chase.” He rests his elbows on the desktop, the only indication that he’s possibly fatigued. “There are some rumblings among the men. Rumor has it they might migrate to other syndicates once I’m gone.”
“Are you serious?” I frown, a chill shifting through me. “Why?”
“Some of the men aren’t happy with the idea of taking orders from someone so young.”
Fuck. I knew it.
“You mean me?” I frown.
“Of course I mean you.”
“Since when?”
“Since always,” he rumbles.
I scowl. “Not much I can do about my age.”
“No, I know.” He twists his lips, his gaze intense. “There is, however, a way to calm them down.”
“What’s that?”
“You already know what.”
“Refresh my memory.”
He sighs. “The men don’t like that you’re unmarried. It makes them see you as immature.”
“I’m not fucking immature.” I can’t believe he’s bringing this subject up again. “My marital status is my business.”
He shrugs. “That’s not how they see it.”
“That’s bullshit. I’ve been groomed for this job. What the hell do they care if I’m married or not? Do they want to sleep with my omega or something?” I can admit I’m flustered. While I knew my being young could be a roadblock, it pisses me off to no end that my unmarried status is a problem.
