Page 201 of I See You

He exhaled, slow and tight, his throat aching. “This isn’t your fault either.”

He wanted Roman to hang up. He wanted to walk out. But Sevyn’s voice echoed in his head—“Listen, Hassan.”

“So don’t leave her. Don’t shut down on her. She needs you, and not just now—but after this. Don’t hurt her again by walking away.”

Hassan’s chest tightened. His jaw clenched harder, like it was the only thing keeping him from breaking apart.

Everyone kept telling him not to leave her. And even though that was the last thing he wanted to do, he didn’t know if staying was safe.

“I love you both… even you, Jules,” Harper added, trying to lighten the heaviness in the room.

Jules chuckled in the background as Roman smiled.

“We love you too, Haz. Kiss my baby on the cheek for me. And you two get some damn rest—it’s three in the morning.”

Harper laughed. “Yo ass so in love. I can’t believe you actually settling down with one woman.”

“Dorian’s all the two wives I need,” Roman said without hesitation. “You’ve seen both sides of her. I can’t handle another woman even if I wanted to.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’ll cut that dick off and feed it to you if you try,” Dorian yelled in the background, making them all laugh.

“Aight, Roman, ya’ll be safe. Wait…” Harper paused. “Did he listen to what I said?”

Roman smirked, glancing at his brother who hadn’t moved since the call started.

“Every word, cuh.”

Then the line went dead.

“We can move on her ass tomorrow. It's late… and nigga, you need some sleep,” Roman said, standing up from the chair.

Hassan looked at him like he’d just said the dumbest shit in the world. “You expect me to sleep without my baby?” he bit out, voice low and laced with venom.

Roman held up his hands. “Nah, that’s not what I meant, San—”

“Sheouttherehurt.Tortured.Probablycoldasfuckinsome basement, and you want me to lay in a comfortable-ass bed like everything’s okay?” Hassan stepped forward, his chest rising with fury.

Roman didn’t back down. They stood toe to toe, tension thick. “Nigga,youain’tgon’bestrongenoughtosaveherifyoudon’t sleep or eat something. You ain’t did either since she left—”

“She didn’t fucking leave!” Hassan roared, cutting him off, his voice cracking from the pain. “She was taken, snatched from me—and I’m not eating shit or closing my eyes until she back in my fucking skin!”

His fists clenched, chest heaving. The rage couldn’t hold back the tears burning behind his eyes. “I can’t lose her, bruh… she my peace. My air, my fucking lifeline!”

His voice broke mid-sentence, and the weight of it all came crashing down. Roman didn’t hesitate. He pulled him in, and for the first time in his life, Hassan let himself fall.

His body shook in his brother’s arms, his cries guttural and raw. Roman held him tight. “We gon’ get her back, nigga. I promise you that,” he whispered, his voice firm but filled with emotion.

Hassan didn’t say a word. His tears said enough. His body burned with grief, his soul starving for Sevyn’s touch.

They left Jules’s gym in silence. Hassan didn’t go home. He couldn’t.

He drove straight to Sevyn’s penthouse, parked outside like he had every night since she’d been taken. He stared up at her window, refusing to let go of the fantasy that she was in there. That she was doing her nightly routine, walking around barefoot in that silk robe, her curls wrapped, face glowing, peace radiating from her like always.

But she wasn’t. She was somewhere dark, maybe starving, maybe cold, maybe—

No.

He slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He couldn’t let his mind go there.

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