Page 74 of His to Have
Bash let out a humorless chuckle. “Not even Gianni?”
“He acted like it was news to him when it came up.”
“Hmm,” Bash hummed. “I guess that also explains why one of my men saw Isabella’s hoe ass leaving Sorella a few days ago—with none other than Bianca Moccasin. When I got word she was in town, I canvassed the entire city. All of their asses was ghost.”
That confirmed what I’d already pinned together.
“Figures, she’s cementing alliances.” I said, thoughtfully.
“That’s exactly what she is doing. I heard she’s been braggin’ that she has the North fighting. And that Georgia is up for grabs now that Pop’s out of the picture.” His fingers tapped against the table.
I nodded, my jaw tight. “She made a move on our wedding day, knowing it would start a war. And leave everyone distracted.”
Bash exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You think Gianni in on it?”
I considered it. “Nah.”
His eyes snapped to mine. “You sure?”
“If he was, he wouldn’t be hiding.” I folded my arms, thinking. “Gianni’s been moving defensive; beefing up security, ducking calls. That’s not a man in control, that’s someone trying to keep from losing everything. I think he knows he has a problem with his daughter. But she must have the leverage and the men now to put him in hiding.”
Bash muttered a curse under his breath, shaking his head when the sound of my wife’s combat boots banged against the hardwood floors.
“Bash you’ve had my husband for almost thirty minutes. I want him back,” she barged in not even bothering to knock. She looked at her brother pointedly. “Y’all can talk strategy later.”
Bash let an unusual grin cover his features, leaning back. “I swear, you really think you run shit, huh?”
Yanna didn’t even blink. “I know I do. At least in this instance.” Then she looked at me with those hypnotic eyes, and I knew I’d do whatever she fucking asked. “Come visit daddy with me.”
The visit with her parents ended up lasting a bit longer than expected, but I didn’t rush her. She needed the time with her people, and more importantly, her mother needed her. Samuel was still in the same condition as the night we got the call—fucked up, but holding on... barely. Fortunately, Bash and Yannaagreed on moving him back home with round-the-clock care and heavy security. Bash stuck around for a while, but eventually, he left out needing to handle business. We weren’t too far behind him, but before we left, Yanna made sure to promise her mom we’d be back soon to check in on everyone.
The drive home was quiet, but not heavy.
By the time we made it back to the penthouse, we both were moving on autopilot, settling into the comforts of our home for the time being. After a quick dinner and a shower, we both were eager to ease into bed. Once she emerged from the bathroom, she was still damp from the shower, while I had been out and chilling for at least thirty minutes, letting the television watch me.
The faint flicker of the screen filled the room, while the soft murmur of some television series played in the background. Neither of us paid much attention to it, as the words seemed to fade into the night.
Yanna climbed into the bed beside me, smelling like fresh strawberries, her arm brushing against mine as she pulled the sheets over her legs, settling into the pillow. She exhaled slowly, releasing some of the built-up tension. Eventually, her head found a spot on my shoulder, and I wrapped my free arm around her while my free hand absently fidgeted with a set of small weighted rollers I often used for relieving anxiety.
“Feel better?” I asked, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
“Mmm.” Her answer was soft, tired.
I tightened my arm around her, letting my thumb brush along her shoulder. “Good.”
A beat of silence passed before she shifted slightly, snuggling even more into me. Something I wholly welcomed.
“What are we watching?” she murmured, eyes barely open as she barely looked at the screen.
“Hell, if I know. It was just on.”
“Mmm.” Another tired sound. “Looks boring.”
“Probably is.” I chuckled, looking at the screen to see a group of people sitting around a table, talking endlessly about something mundane.
She let out a sleepy giggle, curling into me.
Neither of us moved to change the channel or turn it off. We were both too comfortable and relaxed to bother with it. Before long, the room was filled with the soft sound of her steady breathing, signaling that she had drifted off to sleep.
