Page 104 of I See You

She’d never admit this out loud, but Hassan’s cooking might’ve just rivaled her mother’s.

When she looked up, he was already watching her.

"This is good," she admitted, taking another bite, this time of the pancakes.

Hassan nodded, uninterested in compliments as he kept eating. "Did you get your payment?"

Sevyn put down her fork. "About that… That was way too much for one session. I’m sending most of it back."

The look he gave her made it clear—don’t you dare.

But, as always, Sevyn didn’t follow orders. "I’m serious, Hassan.I don’t feel right accepting ten grand for a two-hour session. That’s excessive."

His jaw tightened. "Don’t send that shit back. I paid you what I thought you were worth."

Her lips twitched, fighting the smile threatening to break through, but she wouldn’t be Sevyn Love if she didn’t challenge him. "I’m good, but I’m not ten thousand dollars for two hours good, Hassan."

Hassan leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "I don’t give a fuck how you feel. Send that shit back if you want to."

The weight of his tone left no room for argument as he stood, grabbing his empty plate and walking to the sink. Sevyn huffed, already knowing she’d lost yet another battle with this man.

She finished her food and carried her own plate to the sink, washing it before placing it on the rack. The scent of his coffee reached her, and curiosity took over.

"Why do you do that?" Her voice carried an edge of irritation. Hassan didn’t even look at her. "Do what?"

She turned to face him fully. "Try to control everything. Everyone." His eyes finally met hers. "I don’t."

She scoffed, drying her hands. "You do. But I’m not one of those people you can control. You will be getting most of that money back by the end of the day."

Sevyn turned to walk past him, but before she could make it two steps, a firm grip caught her waist, pulling her back hard against him.

She gasped, her heels making her lose balance, but Hassan caught her effortlessly. Their bodies pressed together, his grip firm, steady— possessive.

The air shifted instantly. Sevyn’s breath hitched.

His face was right in front of hers. Their lips mere inches apart. She could smell the faint bitterness of coffee on his breath, feel the heat radiating from his skin. His hand lingered on the small of her back, fingers grazing the fabric of her shirt, sending a shiver down her spine.

He said nothing. Did nothing. Just held her there. Watching. Waiting.

"I'm gonna say this shit as nice as I can, Sevyn."

Hassan’s voice was low, steady, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. His free hand ran down his beard, a small, controlled movement, but Sevyn knew better. He was trying to keep himself from saying—or doing—the wrong thing.

She stayed quiet, knowing she’d probably pissed him off, but also knowing if she spoke now, she might not like his response.

"The shit you do creeps me the fuck out." He admitted, eyes locked onhers,voicecold."Butithelps.Youworthmorethanthatlittle hundred-an-hour shit you be charging. I gave you what you deserve." Sevyn’slipstwitched,fightingtheurgetosmile.Histonewas sharp,detached—likeeverythingelseabouthim—buthiswords?

They were warm.

Then his eyes darkened slightly.

"And, I'm not trying to control you. You’ll know when you’re being controlled."

His grip on her waist lingered for a beat longer before he finally let go.

Sevyn swallowed, pulse hammering. She didn’t know whether to be offended or turned on, but she was feeling one a little stronger than the other.

Clearing her throat, she stepped back. "I should be leaving." Her voice was softer than she intended, her own reaction catching her off guard.

---