Page 43 of His to Have
“Good, then it’s a breakfast date.” I straightened up and walked toward my room, knowing she’d follow. “You still like pancakes, right? With extra syrup?” I turned just in time to see her suppress a smile. It was too late, I had already caught her.
“Yes,” she graciously told me.
“Good deal. Let me shower and we can grab food, and then swing by your new boutique. Give me ten. Unless you want to join me.”
My smile deepened when she paused like she might say yes... then rolled her eyes instead.
“Didn’t think so. Don’t go anywhere.” I lightly kissed her forehead.
By the time we sat down for breakfast, Ayanna had softened even more. The tension she’d been holding on to like a vice grip was slowly dissipating. It showed in the way she laughed, or the way her hand lingered on mine longer than it had any other day. Like now, her manicured fingers traced the lines of my tattooed hand. They were featherlight caresses, pausingoccasionally when she seemed to take an interest in a piece of artwork. Though these particular tats weren’t chosen for their aesthetics. Each one held significance.
She appeared to be mesmerized as she closely examined each detail. Her touch was gentle, but also curious… which thrilled me. I liked an exploratory lover and couldn’t wait to see how that translated into our love life as our bond became closer. I wanted someone who wasn’t afraid to explore me intimately and emotionally. This exploration felt intimate.
“I never knew you had this,” she whispered softly. “I knew you had the ones on your chest. But these are new. What does it mean?”
My lips tugged into a small smile as her thumb continued to trace the dagger, shield, and crown. But I was also impressed she caught that each tat held meaning.
“That means you really have been ignoring my ass, huh,” I teased. She smacked her lips, but never removed her hands from my flesh. “Nah, I’m just fuckin’ with you.”
Turning my hand slightly, I gave her a better view of the ink wrapped across the back of my hand, that crept up my wrist and flowed into the full sleeve on my right arm. ”I’ve had this one for years.”
While she fondled my hand, wrist, and arm, I explained, “This—” I nodded toward the ink she was studying, “—means I’m a capo. A boss. And this—” I pointed to the dagger and laurel wreath wrapped around the crown, “—represents the blood I’ve spilled to earn my rank. The wreath? That’s for victory. My wins for the family. And the crown? That’s my real status. It’s not just about being a boss—it’s about beingtheboss. The heir to the Donatelli family empire.”
Her fingers paused, her eyes lifting to mine. “So, this is how I can tell who family is and who’s not?”
“Yes, and no.” I confirmed, softly brushing my thumb over her knuckles. “Only capos and made men are inked. Each one is unique to their role, life and sacrifices they’ve made for the family. No two are the same, and each is only identifiable by the family. From the outside, it’s just another piece of body art. But for those who understand, it’s an unspoken badge of honor and loyalty. You’ll learn.”
She fell silent, her fingers resuming their gentle tracing.
“Will I have to get one?”
The corner of my mouth lifted into a grin. “You won’t need ink to show your place in this world. You’ll get something more powerful.”
Her brows raised slightly, curiosity flickering in her dark eyes. “And what’s that?”
I laced my fingers with hers, letting the weight of my next words settle between us. “My last name.”
For the first time, she smiled at the idea.
The next hour went by in a blur. We ate in a comfortable silence for a while before her hand found mine again. She sipped her coffee with her free hand and I let her ask more questions. Some were about the family, and others were more vulnerable. Like if I thought we would ever have a normal life. Usually, I didn’t have the patience for a ton of explanations. But with Yanna, I wanted her to understand and fully embrace us. Embraceme.
It wasn’t lost on me that she craved simplicity, and sometime even predictability. I wished I could promise her that, but the truth was, this life was far from normal. Instead of lying and insulting her intelligence, I gave her truths I hoped she could handle.
“We’ll have our version of it, Amore mio. Normal, in the way most people think of it—the way that you think of it — is notsomething I can give you. But you’ll always have my loyalty and love.”
She stared at me for a long moment, as she processed my words. There was no ill will in her eyes, just acceptance. And not the begrudged kind either. This was the kind of acceptance that came from understanding and choosing to embrace our reality. It was a step in the right direction.
“Come on,” I stood, pulling her with me. “I got a surprise for you.”
Yanna’s new boutique was the first stop on my agenda today, a prime storefront that sat in the heart of Manhattan’s luxury shopping district, right between Chanel and Louis Vuitton.
When our realtor, Rylan, sent over the listings the week she arrived, Yanna wasted no time weighing the pros and cons of each location. Then she visited the ones with the most potential. For at least three days straight, she had Rylan all over the city, and I knew she was using him to avoid me. Which was fine. I wanted Rylan to help my woman find the perfect space without my influence. And he did, with this boutique that perfectly matched Yanna’s vision. When she saw this location, Rylan told me her whole face lit up.
So, I bought it... cash offer.
“You never said where we were going,” Yanna casually said, looking out the window.
“I thought it was time I showed you my city properly. But first, there’s something I need you to approve.”
