Page 22 of Make Me Your Hitta

My brows snapped together. “What? Why?”

“Because I put a three million dollar hit on his daughter’s head. I’ll make it an even four if they can take out her father too.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. It was worse than I’d feared. With that kind of price on their heads, I knew the best of the best would be putting in their bids. I ended the call with my mind racing. I headed to the gym, trying to shake off the dread with each forward march. Xenobia was already there, dressed in a black sports bra and matching leggings, bouncing on her toes with eager energy radiating off her.

“Ready to get your ass kicked?” she taunted while pulling her hair up into a high messy bun.

I forced a smirk. “Dream on, princess.”

As I demonstrated a basic takedown, my hands on her hips to guide her stance, electricity crackled between us. Her scent filled my senses. I struggled to keep my touch clinical and professional.

“Like this?” she inquired, gracefully executing the move.

I nodded, throat tight. “Good. Now, if someone grabs you from behind…”

We moved through various scenarios, my body hyperaware of every point of contact. Her determination was evident in her set jaw and intense gaze. She was a quick study, absorbing and executing each technique with laser focus.

As Xenobia mirrored my movements, her body fluid and determined, I couldn’t help but admire her strength. She wasn’t just some mafia princess—she was a fighter, through and through. Each time our skin brushed, it sent an electric jolt through me, like touching a live wire. I tried to push it down, focus on the task at hand, but damn if it wasn’t getting harder by the second—literally and figuratively.

“You’re holding back,” she accused, eyes flashing. “Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass, Adonis. I can take it.”

I sighed, running a hand over my waves. “Trust me, Nobi, I’m not.”

But she was right. I was holding back—just not in the way she thought. As we circled each other on the mat, memories flooded back. The night of the attack. The fear in her eyes. The blood…

“Why’d you leave?” The question caught me off guard, her voice softer now. “After… you know. I thought…”

I froze, the weight of unspoken words hanging between us. This was the moment I’d been dreading and longing for in equal measure. Would she hate me after she found out the truth about who my father was? Would she banish me from her presence and cut me out of her life for good?

My heart galloped in my chest as I parted my lips to speak. “I didn’t leave willingly. I was kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped? What? By who?”

“My father.”

“Adonis. None of this makes any sense. Why would your father kidnap you? I mean, you were a grown-ass man at the time.”

“That’s because my father is Cecil Toussaint,” I admitted. The words tasted like ash on my tongue.

Her body went completely still as her mouth fell open. “W–what the fuck?”

I stepped toward her, and she took a few steps back, eyes bulging. “Nobi, please let me explain.”

“Were you in on it?”

“What? No. I would never be.”

“Then how, Adonis? How are you standing here telling me that the man who tried to take my life, the monster who sent men to kill my mother and brother, is your fucking father? What kind of twisted fucking fairy tale is this?”

“Xenobia, I—”

“Does my father know?” I nodded, and she scoffed. “Of course he fucking does! Because I don’t fucking matter in this house! I never did.”

I reached out to grab her, holding her squirming shoulders in place as she tried to break free from my grasp. “That’s not true, Xenobia. Please just listen to me! I never knew who my father was until the night of the attack.”

Her aggressive body movements froze momentarily. “I-I don’t understand.”

I sighed heavily. “Do you remember when I came to live here when I was twelve? Do you remember when you found out my mother died shortly after? She was murdered by the same hitmen my father sent that day—the same men who almost killed you. I didn’t know your family had secretly harbored me here for all those years, protecting me from him. The night of the attack, my father’s men killed your mother for being my mother’s best friend and taking me in for so many years. I’ve lived with this cloak of invisible guilt over me for six fucking years, Nobi. As badly as I wish I could, I can’t change who my father is.”

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