Page 32 of His to Have
“Sophia will keep the pressure on what little territory the Moccasins still have until we get a clear path to Orlando and Bianca. I’ll find the backer.” Teo spoke with finality and Marco grunted his agreement.
“Good, sounds like you have everything under control. I’ll leave the rest in your hands.” His gaze flickered to me briefly before rising from his seat. “And Ayanna... welcome to the family.”
I straightened my back, my chin lifting. “Thank you.”
Marco’s lips curved faintly, a glimmer of respect in his otherwise stony expression. With a nod to his son, he strode toward the door, pausing just before leaving the room.
“I’ll see you both at the ceremony,” he said, his voice carrying finality before he disappeared into the hall. At that moment, the gravity of my new reality settled over me. There was no turning back. I was either all in, or out entirely. I exchanged a glance with Teo, whose heated gaze reinforced my resolve. There was no room for hesitation.
I would be Ayanna Donatelli.
nine
Teo
Sleep wasn’t happening tonight. So, here I was at two in the morning doing what I always did when my mind refused to shut down — carving wood until the noise in my head stopped. Last year’s NBA finals played in the background, serving as ambient noise while my hands worked to create the perfect curve to a piece of dark wood intended to complete a gift for my bride-to-be. My hands moved with practiced steadiness as I shaved small pieces of wood, then sanded the handle until it took the shape I desired.
It wasn’t anything too crazy, just a jewelry box for her. An heirloom-inspired piece, reminiscent of the ones I’d made for my mother and Nona years ago. The plan was to present it before the wedding, then fill it with treasures over the coming years. Beginning with something I cherish most—my mother’s engagement ring.
Continuing my careful, but precise movements, I thought about Yanna, and how she had been tiptoeing around me for the past three days. Like I might bite. Which, to be fair, I might.
That made me smile.
That woman was everything I wanted and needed. As well as something I craved and cherished deeply. Seeing those deep pools of dark brown iris watching me, with deep-seated ire, and need was entertaining as hell. My fiery little wife to be, was torn between wanting to fight me and wanting me to remind her why it was always going to be us, and no one else.
Having her in a home I built for the two of us soothed me. Even if she’d chosen to settle in the guest wing while she held onto the illusion of distance between us.
I turned my attention back to the handle, running my thumb along the surface to check for imperfections, occasionally glancing up at the television to catch a glimpse of the game. As I got lost in my work my phone buzzed against the workbench, the screen lighting up with Isabella’s name.
At two in the fucking morning.
I glanced at it without stopping my work, already annoyed.
Isabella had been pushing all of the wrong buttons from the minute she correctly assessed that she was never going to be an option for me. Not then, and certainly not now.
She had the family and the name to align with someone else. Another growing family, in need of a status boost. Just not me, despite what she wanted.
Glancing at the screen the preview showed just enough for me to be annoyed, then pissed. Because anything concerning Yanna didn’t fuckin’ concern her.
Isa: I tried calling first, but you didn’t answer. I’m just now hearing about what happened to Ayanna’s boutique.
Setting down my knife, I picked up the phone and read the rest of her message.
Isa- Iwanted to check to see if you were okay?
I started typing.It’s two in the morning. Why the fuck are you on my line worried about my woman? Don’t ever—
But stopped realizing she wanted a reaction. She wanted a reason to communicate. It didn’t matter if I was talking bad to her or not, only that I was giving her my attention in any way. I wouldn’t give that to her. Staring at what I typed, I deleted every word, opting for something simpler — a thumbs up emoji.
Then immediately followed that with,stay off my line, unless it’s about business.
I tossed the phone aside and picked my knife up again, attempting to regain whatever peace was surrounding me before she interrupted my thoughts. Three precise strokes later, I heard soft footsteps in the hallway, then the door to my wood shop pushed open revealing a sight for sore eyes.
“I saw the lights on?” Her smile broke through the facade she had been intent on keeping up since she arrived in New York. She was still pissed at me despite the kiss we shared a few days ago. But not even she could stop the pull that we’ve always had.
She could act mad all she wanted, but the restraint I’d been holding for all these years was no longer. She was mine. And I only could show her better than I could tell her.
“You couldn’t sleep?”
