Page 29 of Make Me Your Hitta

She nodded, eyes filled with certainty as they stationed on mine. “I’m positive. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the stress cloud my head. “I don’t know. I just can’t shake the feeling that you’ll wake up one day and resent me for everything.”

“Look at me, Adonis.”

I sucked my teeth. “What?”

“I said look at me. You wanna know what your problem is?”

“What’s that?” I inquired, looking her square in the eye.

“You think in order to be loved, you have to be loveable.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means?”

“I think you’re saying you love me.”

“I think I’m saying I am too,” she confessed.

“Say it again.”

She smirked and reached out, her paint-stained fingers intertwining with mine. “I love you, Adonis Cardelo. I don’t care what you’ve done. I don’t care how many mistakes you’ve made. What I feel in my heart for you isn’t your mother’s love, and it damn sure ain’t your father’s. I can’t take away your guilt, but I can promise to love you through it,” she vowed.

My Xenobia. Perhaps it had always been this way. She was mine, and I was hers. Doomed to a fate neither of us couldchange. We stood there, inches apart, her chest heaving as she looked up at me… waiting.

“I love you too, Xenobia. Always have,” I acknowledged. “Whatever happens, I’ll protect you.”

“We’ll protect each other,” she corrected with a smirk.

“Alright, Nobi. Have it your way.”

And just like that, I caved, giving in to the love that had been between us all along. Fuck what anybody had to say about it.

Xenobia

It was a quiet, moonlit night at the mansion. The clock mocked me. Its ticking was a constant reminder of Adonis’s absence. I paced my room, each step stoking the bile threatening to spew from my throat. Logically, he was scouring information, trying to find the mole, but realistically, I wanted him in bed beside me. The clock flashed an angry one o’clock a.m., and I was tired of waiting.

I paused at the window, tracing a finger along one of my scars. The cool glass reflected a face I barely recognized anymore—eyes too hard, jaw too set. It wasn’t me. This wasn’t living.

“Fuck it,” I muttered, resolve crystallizing. “I’m done waiting.”

I carefully eased open my door and slipped into the shadowy hallway, my heart bucking like a wild bronco against my ribcage. The mansion felt different at night, oppressive—like it was trying to swallow me whole, but I wouldn’t let it. Not tonight. I crept past paintings of stern-faced Hawthorne patriarchs, their eyes seeming to follow my every move.

At the top of the grand staircase, I hesitated.What if Adonis catches me? What if—No.I squared my shoulders. I knew the risks of sneaking out, but the uncertainty was eating away atme. My period had been a few days late. As much as I wanted to chalk it up to stress, I knew all too well how many times I’d allowed Adonis to spill his seed inside me. Dressed in all black, I moved silently down the stairs, avoiding the creaky floorboards I knew all too well. I descended quickly, each step carrying me closer to freedom. To danger. To knowing. The foyer loomed ahead, moonlight spilling through stained glass.Almost there. Just a bit further and—

A floorboard creaked behind me.

Shit.

I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. Slowly, I turned, praying it was just my imagination. But there he was, a dark silhouette cutting through the moonlight, his presence as unmistakable as it was unwelcome.

“Going somewhere, Xenobia?” Adonis’s voice sliced through the silence, sharp enough to draw blood.

I lifted my chin, defiance surging through me. “What’s it to you, Guardian?”

He stepped closer, and I saw the fury etched into his features. But something else was there, too, and my stomach twisted.

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