Page 39 of Make Me Your Hitta

“You ready to fuckin’ talk this time?” I queried, my voice cutting through the suffocating silence.

Donovan flinched, his eyes darting wildly around the room as if searching for an escape that didn’t exist. I could almost hear the frantic beating of his heart, a countdown to his inevitable confession.

“I… I didn’t have a choice,” he stammered, words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “They threatened my family, Adonis. What was I supposed to do?”

I remained silent, letting the weight of his betrayal sink in. My mind was already several steps ahead, piecing together the implications of his actions. The Hawthorne family had been compromised, and I needed to know how deep the rot went.

“Tell me everything,” I said, tolerating no argument. “Every fuckin’ detail, every whispered conversation. And remember, your life depends on it. So you better not fuckin’ lie.”

As Donovan spilled his guts, I fought to keep my expression neutral. Inside, a storm brewed. That fuckin’ rat had endangered not just the family but Xenobia. The thought of her in danger made my blood run cold.

I listened intently, filing away each scrap of information for later analysis. The pieces were falling into place, revealing a picture I didn’t like at all. My father was making his move, and we’d been caught with our mothafuckin pants down. Donovan’s sniveling voice faded into background noise as I formulated our next steps. We needed to shore up our defenses fast. And as for the mole…

I refocused on Donovan, noting the hope that had somehow crept into his eyes.Poor, stupid mothafucka thinks he might leave this room alive.

“Tell me what they know about the security rotations,” I demanded, keeping my voice steady despite the churning in my gut. Loyalty to the Hawthornes burned in my veins, but so did the darkness of what I knew I had to do. It was a tug-of-war in my head, and neither side was winning.

Donovan started babbling again. “They know we change guards every four hours, but there’s a fifteen-minute overlap. That’s their window.”

I nodded, filing it away. “And the cameras?”

“There’s still a blind spot on the east side, near the old oak. They could slip a whole team through there.”

I couldn’t shake the unease crawling under my skin as his words sank in.Shit, this is bad. Real bad.With each word, the noose tightened. Not just around Donovan’s neck, but around mine too. How the fuck did this happen?

I kept pushing, kept digging. Each revelation was another nail in somebody’s fuckin’ coffin, but whose? The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on, and I felt the weight of what was coming, pressing down on me like a boulder. Xenobia’s face flashed in my mind, those fierce chocolate brown eyes and the scars that only made her stronger. I’d be damned if I let anything happen to her. So I pressed on, my mind racing ahead, planning our next move even as Donovan continued to talk, sealing his fate with every word.

I stared at him as my mind churned every piece of intel he’d revealed. It was good shit—the kind of information that could turn the tide in our favor if I was quick enough. But the price? Steep as hell. Donovan’s life. The dim light cast shadows across his face, making him look more like a corpse than a man. Maybe that was fitting. I felt the familiar chill settle in my bones. The one that always came before…

“You’ve been helpful to me, Donovan,” I said, my voice low and steady. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

His eyes lit up with hope. I ignored it. “So, we’re good, right? I-I can go?” he stammered out his question. I didn’t answer. Instead, I reached for the gun at my hip. The metal was cold against my palm. Donovan’s face crumpled in disappointment. “No, please… I told you everything!” He sobbed as he looked up at me. “At least protect my wife and kids.”

“You did tell me everything,” I agreed, raising the weapon. “And that’s why this has to happen. I will send a guard to relocate your family and pay them a stipend. It’s more than what you’re worth, but they didn’t deserve to have a lying traitor put them at risk.”

My finger tightened on the trigger. One breath. Two. Then—

Pow!

The shot echoed in the small room. Donovan slumped forward, strings cut. I stood there, gun still raised, the bittersmell of gunpowder filling my nostrils. It was done. Quick. Clean. Necessary. But necessary didn’t make it easy. I felt the weight of it settle on me, another ghost to add to my collection.

I holstered my piece while watching Donovan’s blood spread into a dark stain on the concrete floor. I’d seen enough death to last me a lifetime, but for some reason, he felt different. Heavier than usual.

“Fuck,” I muttered, rubbing the edge of my jaw. The scar there tingled, a phantom pain from another life. Another war.

I paced the room, my mind churning. I briefly closed my eyes, trying to center myself. “Focus, Adonis,” I growled. “One step at a—”

Then, the world exploded.

The blast hit like a freight train, slamming me against the wall. My ears rang, vision blurring as dust and debris rained down. For a split second, I was in the middle of a war the Don had started with the McClendons. Body parts were strewn about as the grenade killed half my men.

But this wasn’t the McClendons. This was home. And that meant—

“Xenobia,” I grunted, pushing myself up. My body moved on autopilot, years of training kicking in. Assess. Plan. Act.

The mansion was under attack. And I had to protect the woman I loved. I burst out of the cellar, my senses on high alert. Once again, the once quiet mansion had transformed into a war zone, this time inside. Alarms blared, their shrill wails mixing with panicked shouts and the distant sound of gunfire.

“Shit,” I muttered, my heart pounding. “Xenobia, where are you?”

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