Page 38 of Make Me Your Hitta

My father’s sad eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw past the mafia boss to the man beneath. “I see her fire in you, Xenobia. But this world… it snuffs out flames like that. As proud as I am to watch your flames dance, you need to be careful.”

I nodded, my throat tight. “I get it, Daddy. I do. This isn’t a fairy tale. It’s reckless and dangerous, and yeah, I know the risks. But Adonis? He’s worth it.”

My voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “I promise I’ll be smart about it. We both will. But I can’t turn off how I feel. And I won’t pretend to be someone I’m not. Not anymore.”

His expression softened just a fraction. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “You’re as stubborn as a goddamn mule, you know that?”

I couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Wonder where I got that from?”

He chuckled, a low rumble that eased some of the tension in the room. “Alright, Nobi. I will start making calls. Youhave my word that I won’t stand in your way, but I cannot speak for the Toussaints. But know this: If Adonis so much as breathes wrong, if he puts you or my grandchild in danger—”

“He won’t,” I said quickly, cutting him off. “He’d die before he let anything happen to me or our baby.”

My father nodded slowly. “See that he does. And, Xenobia? Be careful. Not just with him, but with your heart. Our dark world isn’t kind to romantics who’d rather paint a canvas than take a life.”

I swallowed the lump caught in my throat, realizing this was as close to a blessing as I’d ever get from him. “I will, Daddy. I promise.”

As I turned to leave, his voice stopped me. “You’re more like me than you know, Nobi. God help us both.”

I didn’t look back, but I smirked as I felt the weight of his words follow me out the door. The future stretched out before me, dark and uncertain. But for the first time, I wasn’t afraid to face it. I gently closed the door behind me, my legs shaky as I leaned against the cool wood. My heart was pounding, but I felt lighter somehow. It was as if I’d finally set down a weight I’d been carrying for years.

“Breathe, Xenobia,” I whispered to myself. “Just breathe. It’s over now.”

I was thankful the hallway was empty. I didn’t think I could handle facing anyone. My mind was racing, replaying everyword of that conversation with my father. Had I really just stood up to him? Had he actually accepted it?

I pushed off from the door, my heels clicking in step as I approached the grand staircase. Each step felt like a small victory.

“Xenobia?”

I froze, my heart finding its new home in my throat.Adonis. He was standing at the bottom of the staircase with worry etched across his face and dried blood on his knuckles.

“Hey,” I managed to call out, trying for a smile.

He took the steps two at a time until he was close enough to reach me. “Are you okay? Did he—”

“You have blood on your hands,” I noted, cutting into his question before he could finish.

He swung his head as if to wave off my statement. “What happened when you went to see Don?”

I fell into his arms, burying my face in his bulletproof vest. “I told him,” I mumbled against his crisp, black dress shirt. “About us and that I wanted to be with you.”

Adonis’s hard body went still. “And?”

I pulled back, meeting his eyes. “And… we’re not dead. So that’s gotta count for something, right?” I semi-joked with a half-smirk.

He let out a shaky laugh, cupping my face in his palms. “You’re insane, you know that? Completely fucking insane.”

I shrugged lightheartedly. “Yeah, well, you’re the one who fell for me, so I guess that makes you just as unhinged as me.”

His lips crashed into mine, eager and driven. When we finally came up for air, I saw the realization of what my father’s blessing meant and the fear in his eyes.

“What happens now?” he inquired.

I took a deep breath, still wrestling with the how and when I’d tell him about the baby. “Now? We figure it out. Together.”

Adonis

Ireturned to the basement, ready for round two of my torture tactics. The dim light cast long shadows across Donovan’s face, distorting his features into a bloodied, grotesque mask of fear. I stood over him, my face carefully blank as I assessed the pitiful figure bound to the chair before me. The air hung thick with the stench of his blood, sweat, and desperation.

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