Page 174 of I See You

“If he’s such a murderer,” she said smoothly, “why isn’t he locked up?”

He opened his mouth, but she didn’t give him the chance.

“Oh. Right. Because you don’t have proof.” Her tone was soft, but lethal. “You got photos, Braxton. That’s it. No confession. No weapon. No witness. No case.”

Her voice didn’t match the sickening images that had just flashed across her eyes, and that’s what unnerved him the most. He expected her to fall apart, to scream, to cry, to beg him to protect her. But Sevyn wasn’t scared. She was sharper. Colder. Clearer.

“And let’s be real,” she continued, “even if it’s true… that man killed the person who killed his parents. He was a child. Broken. Alone. That was his justice. His only peace. And unlike you, he never once lied to me or tried to hide who he was.”

“So you really sticking beside this sick bastard?” Braxton snapped. “You no better than his fucked-up ass.”

Sevyn laughed. Not nervously. Not out of discomfort. But loud and deliberate. Like she was genuinely amused by how pathetic he sounded.

“No, Braxton. The only sick man in this room is you. You’re sick that I left. You’re sick that you're stuck with a spoiled, spineless baby mama who’s only got her daddy’s money and a uterus to her name. You’re sick because you know Henry’s not gonna carry that baby— you are. And once that little designer devil pops out, Ariel’s gonna bleed you dry like the broke, bitter puppet you are.”

Braxton’s jaw locked tight. His fists clenched at his sides. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“And as for these horror-movie photos? You don’t know anything. Just like the rest of the feds. If you did, Hassan would be behindbars instead of inside me.” She smirked, eyes narrowing. “What you thought would scare me, only made me understand him more. He’s lived through shit you couldn’t survive on your best day—and he still became the kind of man you couldn’t touch in your dreams.”

“You’re gonna regret fucking with that nigga,” Braxton seethed, fury bubbling in his throat.

Sevyn grinned as she stood tall and walked toward the door just as security appeared behind him.

“Oh, but my mind, my body, and this pussy?” She stepped in close, whispering with a deadly edge. “We don’t.”

Braxton turned crimson.

“And Braxton?” she called after him as security opened the door. “He fucks me better too.”

He snapped around, rage exploding behind his eyes—but the guards already had their hands on him, ushering him out before he could say another word.

“And don’t come back. You step foot in here again, I’m telling my fatheryou’restalkingme.Let’sseehowlongyoustayonthiswild goosechase once he hears his daughter’s being harassed by a bitter ex with a law degree and a bruised ego.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

The second Braxton was gone, Sevyn let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. It escaped her like pressure from a shaken bottle, and she leaned against her desk to steady herself. Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked up the envelope and shoved it into the drawer, slamming it shut like she could lock the memories inside.

But the images lingered.

Hassan’s parents—bloody, lifeless, frozen in the last tragic moments of their lives. The eerie stillness of the murder scene. The body of the man Hassan killed, twisted and dismantled like vengeance had taken human form and unleashed hell.

And somehow, through it all, she didn’t judge him.

She couldn’t. Not after what she knew. Not after what he’d been through. But she was concerned.

Did he know Braxton was watching him? Did he know they were collecting dirt, snapping photos, following his every move—their every move?

Her heart hammered against her ribs as she picked up her phone and pulled up Hassan’s contact. Her thumb hovered for a moment, then hit call.

But before the ring could sound, the door burst open with a force that sent the breath straight back out of her lungs.

Hassan.

He stepped inside like a storm. No knock. No warning. Just fury wrapped in black-on-black designer, jaw tight, and eyes filled with ice and fire. Cold rage radiated off his body like a furnace frozen over.

Sevyn stood up fast.

His eyes scanned the room like he was ready to kill whoever touched her—whoever dared step foot near what was his.

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