Page 18 of A Don & His Doll

“Lemme get you right one last time, OG,” Moe said, draping the cape around Mitch’s shoulders.

Afterwards he took a shower, and changed into an exclusive onyx Tom Ford suit tailored to perfection, paired with customized Italian loafers. His gold, diamond-encrusted cufflinks, sage and gold pocket square, gold diamond encrusted patek, Cuban link chain, and ring on his right ring finger added the perfect amount of personality to his overall look. When he stepped out of the prison's side exit, he looked like a billionaire. Monroe stood outside the gate, leaned against his whip, excitedly waiting for his uncle to walk out of that hellhole he'd been in for over a decade.

"Unc!" Monroe exclaimed, exuding pure joy.

"Nephew!" Mitch returned the same energy, ready for his next phase of life.

The moment was hard to put in words, but one thing was certain in life, everything wasn't tangible... some things were only meant for the heart to feel.

"This you?" Mitch asked, stepping back slowly, eyeing the 2026 Rolls-Royce Centenary Private Collection.

He was familiar with this edition because he was a low-key foreign car enthusiast. He'd been looking at this car since it was released. Syn had told Monroe a week after Mitch's parole hearing was finalized. Monroe had rubbed shoulders with a lot of key people to get his uncle's parole granted, and he wanted to make sure he had all the right things lined up for him.

"Nah, Unc. This you," Monroe casually stated, stepping back, handing him the key fob.

Mitch stared at it for half a second before letting out a low whistle. "Now that's what the fuck I'm talkin' 'bout. I know this mu'fucka ride smooth as hell," Mitch muttered, walking slowly around his new whip, his hand brushing lightly across the hood. "Come on. Let's get the fuck out of dodge," he stated, hopping in the driver's seat.

The engine purred to life like it had been waiting for him specifically. Monroe climbed into the passenger seat, relaxed but observant as Mitch pulled off from the curb. Freedom looked good on him.

Monroe chuckled, glad to see his uncle truly happy. "Ma Dukes said she wanna see you as soon as you touch down," Monroe said, remembering what his mom had told him in St. Tropez.

Mitch nodded once, already knowing the reason why. "A'ight, just tell me how to get there," Mitch replied, stopping at the traffic light.

Monroe gestured toward the dash. “Already handled. The GPS is set.”

“Bet,” Mitch replied, slowly getting back into his own groove.

Just as Monroe was about to turn the music up, his phone rang with Promise’s beautiful face flashing across his screen. “What’s good, Doll?” he answered smoothly.

“Hey, handsome. How’d everything go with picking up your uncle? I can’t wait to meet him,” Promise said, rearranging one of her drawers.

“You already know I’ma make it happen. You gon’ spend the night wit’cha man tonight or what?” Monroe asked, looking out the window.

“Nope. I gotta go to work in the morning.”

“You can go to work from my place.”

“I could, but that’s not the point.”

“What’s the point, Doll?”

“The point is… I need my damn rest, and I know you not gone let me get none if I come to your place.”

“That’s that bullshit I be talkin’ ‘bout, Doll. You know a nigga don’t sleep right when you ain’t close by.”

Promise tittered. “Well, I’m a lot closer now,” she said softly. “I’ll come over after I get off work tomorrow, and I’ll do something special for you.”

“Yea, a’ight. Special, huh?” He quizzed rhetorically, not trying to hear none of what she was talking about.

“Mhm,” she said sexily. “But, go ahead and catch up with your uncle. Call me before you call it a night.”

“Already,” Monroe said before disconnecting from the call.

Mitch had ear hustled the whole time, discovering instantly that his nephew had fallen for the woman he was on the phone with. It had nothing to do with the words spoken. He picked up on how Monroe’s body language had shifted. His tone had changed. His gaze deepened. He smiled, and Mitch peeped how the whole scene had played out, and nodded when Monroe concluded the call.

“What’s her name?” Mitch asked simply, maintaining his focus on the road.

Monroe chuckled. “Promise,” he answered smoothly, gazing out of the window.