Page 154 of I See You

The Marino family was still holding up their end—he had land, they had access, and business was still moving weight through his casino with no hiccups. But for the first time, even the comfort of clean calculations and financial reports didn’t register.

His mind was somewhere else. On someone else.

Sevyn.

Hehadn’twantedtoleaveher—notafterthewayshecurled into him, soft and warm, tangled in those white sheets like she was made for him. But business called. And like always, he answered. He dipped in the middle of the night without a word, and now she wasn’t answering his calls. Not one.

She was pissed. He knew it. And she had every right to be.

He hated that she probably thought he used her—just took her body and bounced like she didn’t mean shit to him. Like she wasjust another late-night craving. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. He missed her. Missed her voice. The way she looked at him like she saw something more than "Ice." The way her energy calmed the war inside his chest.

And now? Her silence was fucking him up.

Every time he got her voicemail, the fury bubbled up. He wanted to pull up. Wanted to force her to look him in the eye and say whatever she needed to say—even if it was just to cuss him out. He’d take it. Hell, he deserved it.

ButSevynwasstubborn.Proud.Softinthemiddlebutsharpas fuckwhen crossed. And he knew showing up unannounced wouldn’t change a damn thing—not if her mind was made up.

The part that fucked with him the most? She didn’t just give him her body that night. She gave him her trust. Her softness. Her guard. And he walked out on it like she was just another notch.

And now he couldn’t shake her.

He’d never wanted a woman like this before. Never needed someone’s presence like oxygen. But Sevyn? She wasn’t just under his skin—she was in his blood now. And he couldn’t go another day pretending like she wasn’t.

Because she wasn’t just his therapist anymore. She was everything he didn’t know he needed.

And now he had to figure out how to get her back.

The longer Hassan sat staring at the numbers, the more pissed off he got. Nothing was computing. Not the columns, not the math, not the bullshit reports in front of him. He was already on edge, and ignoring the urge to call Sevyn again was making it worse.

Finally, he grabbed his phone and dialed Harper.

She answered on the third ring. “How do you apologize to someone who you think is mad at you?” he asked without a greeting.

“Well, hello to you too, Hassan. I’m doing just fine, thanks for asking,” she shot back, full of sarcasm.

He sighed, frustrated. “You gone help me or not?”

“Hold on, who is this someone? And what did you do to think you piss her off?” Harper asked, amusement rising in her voice.

“Why the fuck does it matter who it is? And who said it’s a woman?” he snapped, already annoyed.

Harper laughed. “Because I know you not calling me for advice on how to apologize to a nigga. I’m just surprised you calling period. You don’t do apologies.”

“Harper,” he warned, voice tight. “You helping or not?”

“Aight, aight. First—figure out if she’s actually mad at you,” Harper started. “Ain’t no point in apologizing for shit if you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Hassan stayed quiet. He already knew Sevyn was mad. Her silence said it all. Sevyn never ignored his calls, not even when she was busy— and that was one of the things he appreciated most about her. But the fact that she’d been dodging him for days? Yeah, she was pissed.

“Next—be intentional,” Harper said, her tone firmer. “Ain’t no woman trying to hear a dry ass ‘I’m sorry’ with nothing behind it. You gotta say what you did, why it was wrong, and mean that shit. No bullshit, no ego. Just own that shit.”

Hassan nodded to himself, taking mental notes. He wasn’t good at this kind of thing—but for Sevyn, he was willing to learn.

“Flowers work. But not no corner store bullshit. You got money, nigga—use it. Better yet, give her something she said she liked. Something you picked up on in conversation. That lets her know you see her.”

“Mmhm,” he muttered.

“And whatever you do, be genuine. I don’t care if you drop five racks on an apology—if your words don’t mean shit, neither will the gift. Unless she just one of them basic hoes you be fucking, then—”

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