Page 27 of Make Me Your Hitta

Adonis

The mahogany door slammed behind me, echoing through the hallway. My blood boiled, but I forced it to ice over. I couldn’t let emotion cloud my judgment. Not now. Not with Xenobia’s life on the line. My father or one of his assassins had drawn the line in the sand, and it was time to go all in.

I stalked down the corridor, my footsteps silent on the plush carpet. My mind raced, dissecting every word of that fucking text. How did they know her number? That was a private line, only for family and Damara.

A maid scurried past, averting her eyes. I watched her go, suspicion gnawing at my gut. Was it her? Or the groundskeeper I glimpsed through the window, replanting and pruning roses with meticulous care? Hell, it could be any of them. I didn’t trust anyone. I leaned against a wall, letting the cool marble seep into my skin.

Breathe, Adonis. Think.

“Everything alright, Cardelo?”

I turned to see Giovanni, Don Hawthorne’s right-hand man and the ex-head of security, eyeing me with concern. Or was it caution?

“Fine,” I grunted. “Just planning our next move.”

He nodded a little too eagerly. “Of course. We’re all behind you, one hundred percent.”

I forced a smile. “Good to hear. I’ll need everyone’s cooperation.”

As he walked away, I cataloged every detail—the slight hitch in his step and how his hand twitched toward his pocket. Innocent quirks or tells of a guilty conscience? I was too paranoid to let anything slide without question.

I pushed off the wall, heading toward the security room. It was time to review the footage and analyze every grainy frame for a clue. As one foot overtook the other, I felt the weight of eyes on me. Friend or foe, I couldn’t say. I needed to focus. There was a mole in our ranks, a threat that could bring down everything we’d built.

Titus was already reviewing the footage from the last week, working hard to figure out what went wrong with the perimeter’s defenses. He looked up as I entered and nodded when I instructed him to search for a mole.

I stalked through the estate’s winding corridors, needing air and space to clear my head. But as I rounded a corner into the conservatory, I froze.

There she was. Xenobia. Alone. Unguarded.

She stood among the lush greenery, trailing her fingers along a leaf. The early afternoon sun filtered through the glass ceiling. My throat went dry.

She turned, those piercing eyes finding mine. “Donny,” she said, her voice low and husky. “I was secretly hoping you’d find me.”

The air between us crackled with tension. I took a step forward, then caught myself. She was looking at me with such love it burned through my veins.

I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my composure. “Xenobia, we need to talk. About… about the dangers we’re facing.”

My voice came out rougher than I intended, a mix of concern and something darker, more primal. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms.Focus, nigga.

“There are risks,” I continued, forcing each word out. “Getting close to me… it’s not safe for you. I’m a target. That means anyone associated with me becomes one too. When my father took me away, your father never lost contact with me. I became a mole in my father’s operation, knowing I’d have to pay for my sins one day. The Toussaints are after you, but if my father knows I’m here protecting you, his assassins will be out for my blood too,” I confessed.

Xenobia took a step closer, her eyes never leaving mine. “And you think that’s supposed to shake me?” she challenged, her tone laced with that familiar defiance that thrilled and terrified me. “I’m a Hawthorne, Adonis. Danger has been my shadow since the day I was born.”

I shook my head, frustration building up inside me. “This is different. The threat is inside our walls now. And I can’t... fucking you is one thing, but opening the door to this, to us, will destroy us both. You know it too.”

She closed the distance between us, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of vanilla on her skin. “You don’t get to make that decision for me,” Xenobia said softly, her words like steel wrapped in silk. “I choose my own path, my own risks. And I choose to stand by you, come hell, high water, bullets, or brute.”

My breath caught in my throat. Dammit, if she wasn’t impressive in her stubbornness. And it was going to get her killed if she got too close to me.

“You don’t understand,” I growled, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her. “I’m not a good man, Xenobia. The things I’ve done… the blood on my hands… You deserve better than that. Better than me.”

But even as I said the words, I knew they were hollow. Because deep down, in the darkest corners of my soul, I wanted her. Needed her. And that terrified me more than any blood relative or enemy ever could.

“There is nobody better than you, Adonis.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. Xenobia’s words echoed in my ears.Maybe if I find the mole and neutralize the threat…

“Come with me,” I said, my voice rougher than intended. “I’ve got something to show you.”

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