Page 7

Adonis

T he next day.

The shadows crept along the hallway walls, dancing in the dim light like restless spirits. I paced, each step echoing my racing thoughts. My phone buzzed again. It was the second time I’d ignored my father’s call. I knew I needed to call him back and check in, but I couldn’t focus on him. My mind kept drifting back to last night. To Xenobia. To her soft skin under my rough hands, her breathy moans in my ear.

Fuck. I needed to get it together.

I ran a hand over my beard, trying to shake off the memory. “Get your head in the fuckin’ game, Adonis,” I muttered.

A movement at the top of the stairs caught my eye. There she was, like a vision from my darkest fantasies. Xenobia stood there, head held high and eyes blazing, as usual. My breath caught in my throat.

“I’m going to my studio,” she announced, her voice ringing through the silent hall. “And you can’t stop me.”

Damn. How quickly she went from passionate lover back to bratty-ass princess. That shit gave me whiplash sometimes.

“Like hell you are,” I growled. “It’s not safe out there, Xenobia. You know that. They got into the garden last night. There’s a breach, and we haven’t found it yet.”

She descended the stairs, each step deliberate. “That’s your job, not mine. I have work to do.”

I clenched my jaw, torn between admiration for her fire and frustration at her stubbornness. A part of me wanted to throw her over my shoulder, carry her to the panic room, and lock her inside. Another part wanted to bend her over my knee and spank that fuckin’ attitude right out of her pretty, privileged ass. Maybe next time. The thought sent a jolt of heat through me.

“This isn’t up for debate,” I said, calming my voice. “You’re staying put until we neutralize the fuckin’ threat. End of story.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t control me, Adonis. I’m not one of your underlings to order around. You work for me.”

Xenobia was infuriating enough to make me want to call her out of her fuckin’ name. I refrained. She was deliciously irresistible like that. I stepped closer, crowding her space. “No,” I agreed, my voice low. “You’re much more dangerous than them.”

Focus, dammit. I was about to form a rebuttal when she sighed.

Then her chin lifted, and her eyes met mine. “Fine. But I’m not sitting around doing nothing. I need to move, to do something.”

A wave of nasty, freaky ass ideas struck me, but I kept them to myself. If it were up to me, I’d have her ass climbing the walls and yelling my name all day and night.

“Meet me in the gym in ten. We’ll do some sparring.”

Her eyes lit up with interest. “Really?”

I nodded, already regretting the suggestion. Close contact, sweaty skin, adrenaline pumping… this was a dangerous game. But if it kept her safe and occupied, I’d play it. As she turned to go, I watched her walk away, my body thrumming with conflicting desires. Protect her. Possess her. Keep her safe. Make her mine.

Fuck, I was in trouble.

I stepped outside, the cool evening air a welcome relief against my skin. My fingers shook slightly as I returned my father’s phone call. I expected another update—another reminder that his men circled the waters like sharks, waiting to strike again. They’d retreated to lick their wounds, but word had it my father was on the hunt for an assassin, and I needed to know the truth.

“Son.” A gruff voice answered on the third ring. “Why the fuck haven’t you been answering my calls?”

“Sorry. I was handling an issue with one of the guards at the warehouse.”

“What issue?”

I glanced over my shoulder, gears churning to come up with a lie quickly. “Just had to remind a couple of niggas who the fuck was really in charge now, that’s all. It’s handled.”

“Good. We don’t have time for any fucking rifts in the system.”

“Are you any closer to coming to an agreement with Don Hawthorne?” I probed.

“Fuck an agreement. It’s all or nothing as far as I’m concerned.”

“What do you mean?”

A low, evil chuckle crackled through the line. “Let’s just say it won’t be long before the Toussaints run all of New York.”

My stomach twisted as I gritted my teeth. “When’s the next move on the Hawthornes? I want in.”

“You’re right where I want you to be for now, Adonis. All you need to be focused on is preparing to expand our territory.”

“So you plan to move in on the Hawthornes soon?”

“I’ve ordered my men to stand down for now.”

My brows snapped together. “What? Why?”

“Because I put a three million dollar hit on his daughter’s head. I’ll make it an even four if they can take out her father too.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. It was worse than I’d feared. With that kind of price on their heads, I knew the best of the best would be putting in their bids. I ended the call with my mind racing. I headed to the gym, trying to shake off the dread with each forward march. Xenobia was already there, dressed in a black sports bra and matching leggings, bouncing on her toes with eager energy radiating off her.

“Ready to get your ass kicked?” she taunted while pulling her hair up into a high messy bun.

I forced a smirk. “Dream on, princess.”

As I demonstrated a basic takedown, my hands on her hips to guide her stance, electricity crackled between us. Her scent filled my senses. I struggled to keep my touch clinical and professional.

“Like this?” she inquired, gracefully executing the move.

I nodded, throat tight. “Good. Now, if someone grabs you from behind…”

We moved through various scenarios, my body hyperaware of every point of contact. Her determination was evident in her set jaw and intense gaze. She was a quick study, absorbing and executing each technique with laser focus.

As Xenobia mirrored my movements, her body fluid and determined, I couldn’t help but admire her strength. She wasn’t just some mafia princess—she was a fighter, through and through. Each time our skin brushed, it sent an electric jolt through me, like touching a live wire. I tried to push it down, focus on the task at hand, but damn if it wasn’t getting harder by the second—literally and figuratively.

“You’re holding back,” she accused, eyes flashing. “Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass, Adonis. I can take it.”

I sighed, running a hand over my waves. “Trust me, Nobi, I’m not.”

But she was right. I was holding back—just not in the way she thought. As we circled each other on the mat, memories flooded back. The night of the attack. The fear in her eyes. The blood…

“Why’d you leave?” The question caught me off guard, her voice softer now. “After… you know. I thought…”

I froze, the weight of unspoken words hanging between us. This was the moment I’d been dreading and longing for in equal measure. Would she hate me after she found out the truth about who my father was? Would she banish me from her presence and cut me out of her life for good?

My heart galloped in my chest as I parted my lips to speak. “I didn’t leave willingly. I was kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped? What? By who?”

“My father.”

“Adonis. None of this makes any sense. Why would your father kidnap you? I mean, you were a grown-ass man at the time.”

“That’s because my father is Cecil Toussaint,” I admitted. The words tasted like ash on my tongue.

Her body went completely still as her mouth fell open. “W–what the fuck?”

I stepped toward her, and she took a few steps back, eyes bulging. “Nobi, please let me explain.”

“Were you in on it?”

“What? No. I would never be.”

“Then how, Adonis? How are you standing here telling me that the man who tried to take my life, the monster who sent men to kill my mother and brother, is your fucking father? What kind of twisted fucking fairy tale is this?”

“Xenobia, I—”

“Does my father know?” I nodded, and she scoffed. “Of course he fucking does! Because I don’t fucking matter in this house! I never did.”

I reached out to grab her, holding her squirming shoulders in place as she tried to break free from my grasp. “That’s not true, Xenobia. Please just listen to me! I never knew who my father was until the night of the attack.”

Her aggressive body movements froze momentarily. “I-I don’t understand.”

I sighed heavily. “Do you remember when I came to live here when I was twelve? Do you remember when you found out my mother died shortly after? She was murdered by the same hitmen my father sent that day—the same men who almost killed you. I didn’t know your family had secretly harbored me here for all those years, protecting me from him. The night of the attack, my father’s men killed your mother for being my mother’s best friend and taking me in for so many years. I’ve lived with this cloak of invisible guilt over me for six fucking years, Nobi. As badly as I wish I could, I can’t change who my father is.”

“So why are you here? Because you feel guilty for being the reason my fucking brother and mother were killed?” she barked, starting to squirm again.

“Part of it!” I yelled, arching my brows toward my crisp hairline. “The other part is because I couldn’t stand the thought of anything fucking happening to you again.”

She scoffed before mustering up enough strength to push away from my grasp. I let her go that time. “How am I supposed to believe anything you fucking say when you’re the son of the fuckin’ enemy?”

“I know you don’t know this, but I fought off men by the dozen trying to get to you—trying to get to all of you. Y’all were my family, Nobi. I’d have died to keep you safe. I killed your attacker and held you for a split second before being taken by the other half of my bloodline I never even fuckin’ knew existed.”

She slowly shook her head. “I’ve prayed for your father’s death every night for the past six years.”

“Me too. I’ll never, ever claim the Toussaint bloodline. That’s on my mother.”

Xenobia fell speechless for a few seconds. “So that’s where you’ve been all this time? Working under your father?”

I dipped my chin. “Yes, all while keeping in secret contact with your father. Who do you think warned him that the Toussaints were planning to attack and kill you? You’re the only reason I’m here, Xenobia. Can’t you see my whole fuckin’ world revolves around you?”

Xenobia’s eyes widened, a mix of shock and something else—hope, maybe—flickering across her face.

“I would always ask what happened to you, why you weren’t at the funeral, why the things in your room had been moved out. My father told me we could never speak of you again.”

“I wanted to reach out,” I continued, my voice rougher than intended. “To tell you the truth so many years ago. But your father… that man’s got a way of making offers you can’t refuse.”

I watched the realization dawn on her face, years of misunderstanding crumbling away. Part of me wanted to reach out to bridge the gap between us. Xenobia’s eyes locked onto mine, searching for every drop of the truth. I could almost see the gears turning in her head, reevaluating every interaction since I’d returned. It was like watching a wall crumble, brick by brick.

“All this time,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I thought you didn’t care.”

I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to pull her close. “I’ve always cared, Nobi. More than I should. All these years… I’ve watched you. You were never without my protection.”

She took a step toward me, and I instinctively tensed. This was dangerous territory. But damn if I didn't want to throw caution to the wind and close that gap between us.

“Does your father know you’re here?”

“Hell no.”

“How are you doing any of this without his knowledge?”

“My father had been pressing me to oversee a specific part of our territory that would put me close to your mansion. I’d been turning him down for years, but when I found out about his intention to attack your family again, I knew I had to do whatever I had to do to make sure that didn’t happen.”

“So, you’re risking your life just being here?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“For me?”

“All for you.”

Xenobia nodded with a new understanding in her eyes. As she turned to gather her things, I smiled. She wasn’t the fragile girl I’d left behind years ago. This Xenobia was a force to be reckoned with.

I watched her leave, her silhouette framed by the fading light streaming through the high windows. Pride swelled in my chest, and a fierce protectiveness threatened to overwhelm me. She was strong, sure, but the world out there was brutal. And I’d be damned if I let a mothafucka touch her again.

The mansion’s silence pressed on me as I stood guard outside Xenobia’s room. Night had fallen, and with it came a new set of dangers. Every creak, every shadow had me on high alert. But if I was being honest, the real threat wasn’t out there. It was right here, inside these walls, inside my fucked-up head.

I couldn’t stop thinking about her—the way she’d looked at me in the gym, all fire and determination, how her walls crumbled with the knowledge of the truth I’d been harboring for six years, and how she was when we were together and weren’t at each other’s throats. We were perfect.

A soft click behind me nearly made me jump out of my skin. I spun around, hand already on my piece, only to find Xenobia standing in her doorway. The dim light from her room cast a halo around her, making her look like some kind of angel.

“Adonis,” she whispered, her voice low and husky. She didn’t say anything else; she held my gaze and stepped back, leaving the door open.

An invitation. A challenge. A fucking minefield.

I knew I should’ve turned away, continued my patrol, and pretended I hadn’t seen. But my legs had other ideas. Before I could stop myself, I crossed the threshold and stepped into the lion’s den.

“You shouldn’t be inviting strange men into your room, Nobi,” I growled, trying to inject some humor into the situation. “Especially not in a house full of killers.”

Xenobia’s lips curved into a smile that was equally sweet and dangerous. “You’re not strange, Donny. You’re you.”

I watched Xenobia move toward her bed, her steps slow and deliberate. My throat went dry as she perched on the edge, her eyes never leaving mine. Goddamn, she was beautiful. And deadly. Like a rose with thorns sharp enough to draw blood.

“You gonna stand there all night?” she asked, one eyebrow arched in a challenge.

I took a step closer, then another. My body was on autopilot, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. “This is a bad idea, Xenobia,” I muttered, even as I closed the distance between us. “Your father’s sleeping down the hall. Besides, you said one night. This makes two. What happens when it becomes three, four, five?”

She tilted her head, those fierce eyes boring into me. “Since when do you care about bad ideas, Guardian?”

I was close enough now to catch the scent of her soap and something darker, more dangerous. My hands clenched at my sides, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her. “I care about keeping you safe,” I said, my voice rougher than intended. “And that includes from me.”

Xenobia shifted on the bed, her bare leg brushing against mine. A jolt of electricity shot through me, and I had to bite back a groan. She looked up at me, a mix of vulnerability and defiance in her expression.

“What if I don't want to be safe from you?” she whispered. “What if I want to feel you deep inside me again—tonight, tomorrow, or however many other times I’d like?”

Fuck. I was losing the battle, and I knew it. My mind was a war zone, duty and desire locked in mortal combat. I should leave. I needed to leave.

But as Xenobia’s soft hand reached for mine, I knew I was well and truly fucked. I sank onto the bed beside her, my heart hammering like a junkie’s after a fresh fix. The darkness swallowed us, thick and heavy, hiding our sins from the world outside. But it couldn’t hide them from me. Every breath, every slight movement of Xenobia’s body next to mine, made my dick swell in my pants.

“We can’t,” I muttered, more to myself than to her. But my traitorous hand was already reaching out, tracing the lining of her scarred jaw.

Xenobia leaned into my touch, her skin warm and soft under my calloused fingers. “Why not?” she inquired. “Give me one good reason, Adonis.”

I could’ve given her a hundred. Her father. Her brother. My loyalty. My duty. My father’s assassins breathing down our necks. But at that moment, with Xenobia so close that I felt the heat radiating off her body, none seemed to matter.

“Because,” I said, my voice raw. “Once I start, I won’t be able to stop.”

She shifted closer, her lips brushing my ear. “Then don’t.”

That’s when I knew Xenobia Hawthorne would be my undoing and my salvation.

I pulled her closer, burying my face in her hair. This was madness—pure, unadulterated insanity. And I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

“Xenobia, one night is a mistake, but two makes it real. Think about what you’re asking here.”

“I don’t care anymore, Adonis… We were robbed of what we could have been for years, and I don’t want to wait for permission anymore. It’s always been you.”

My heart simultaneously soared and burned. She was right. I’d done everything asked of me, and she was the only thing that I’d ever had that brought me some semblance of joy, of peace. There was no more running. I planned to bury my dick inside her and find my way back home.