Page 17 of Make Me Your Hitta

My scars itched, a phantom reminder of the last time our enemies had come for us. I’d survived then. We’d survive now. We had to. Another explosion rocked the night. I stumbled back from the window, my heart lodged in my throat. This was bad… really fucking bad.

“What the fuck do I do?” I muttered, forgetting every safety protocol Adonis had gone over with me so many times it was practically baked into my brain. “What am I supposed to do?”

Stay put and hide like a good little mafia princess? Or grab the gun he’d placed in my nightstand drawer and join the fight? I raced back to the window, eyes once again searching for Adonis until I found him. He was a force of nature, all coiled strength, and lethal precision. The way he moved, it was like he could predict where the bullets would fly before they even left the chamber. I’d seen men twice his size crumble under less pressure, but Adonis? He was crafted from something more brutal.

“Shit,” I breathed out, my nails digging into the windowsill.

Part of me wanted to scream at him to get to safety—to stop being so damn heroic. But I knew better. This was who he was—The Guardian, the shield against the darkness my father had hired to watch over me. My heart raced with fear and something I didn’t want to name. Couldn’t name. If I put a name to it, everything would change. But watching him out there, risking everything to keep me safe… it stirred something in me I couldn’t overlook.

“Panic room,” I muttered, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. “I have to get to the panic room.”

I found myself at my bedroom door, reaching for the handle, my body moving before my brain could catch up.

The night exploded into a symphony of violence. Gunshots cracked through the air like thunder. Each blast sent a jolt through my body. My breath came in ragged gasps as I crept down the grand staircase, my bare feet silent on the cold marble. All I had to do was make it to the panic room.

Boom. Boom. Boom.The rhythm of death pulsed in my veins.

I pressed myself against the wall, peeking around the corner. The garden was still a war zone. Muzzle flashes lit up the darkness like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

“Two on your six!” Adonis’s baritone voice cut through the chaos, sharp and clear.

I inched closer to the door leading out to the garden, my eyes finding him instantly. He’d moved from the statue, now crouched behind an overturned table. Even in the madness, he was a rock, steady and unshakeable.

“Copy that,” one of his men growled, pivoting smoothly to eliminate the threats.

I should’ve been terrified. I should’ve run to the panic room as intended and barricaded myself behind the door or hid under the covers like when I was a kid. But watching Adonis command my father’s team and seeing their absolute trust in him was all too breathtaking to miss.

“Wow,” I whispered in awe.

Adonis’s head snapped toward me as if on command, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second. “Xenobia! What the fuck? Get to the panic room. Now!”

But I was rooted to the spot, mesmerized by the lethal dance unfolding before me. The air crackled with tension, thick enough to choke on. “I—”

“I said move!” Adonis snarled, his voice carrying a ferocious bite I’d never heard before. It sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with fear.

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died in my throat as I saw the change come over him. His eyes hardened, becoming chips of ice in the darkness. When he spoke again, it wasn’t to me.

“Flank left,” he commanded, his tone allowing no argument. “We end this shit. Now.”

The gunfire faded, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Adonis as he stalked through the garden, his movements predatory and precise as he took in the carnage.

“Secure the fuckin’ perimeter,” he barked, his voice unnaturally calm. “Dispose of the bodies. I want this place spotless.”

My stomach churned. Bodies. Plural. How many people had just died outside my window? Adonis’s men moved with grim efficiency, dragging lifeless forms into the shadows. I caught glimpses of blood-stained grass under the moonlight and heard the soft thud of dead weight being loaded into unmarked vans. It should’ve horrified me. Instead, a vile fascination took hold. This was my reality, stripped of its golden facade. Raw. Brutal. Real.

The commotion of my father’s voice through the speakerphone drew my attention. “What in the fuck—” he roared.

“Toussaint,” Adonis answered simply, wiping blood from his knuckles. “They’ve gotten bold.”

My father morphed into rage. “So soon? We were still negotiating terms over an agreement.”

I snorted.Agreements. As if those mean anything in our world.

Adonis’s jaw tightened. “With all due respect, Don, agreements can be broken. Your daughter’s safety is my priority.”

“Your priority?” my father spat. “My home is a fucking war zone again!”

I tensed, waiting for Adonis to snap back. But he stood there, taking Daddy’s anger through the receiver without flinching. His loyalty was disturbing. It made me want to scream, to shake him until he showed some goddamn emotion.

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