Page 190 of I See You

Dorian cracked a grin. It was the first time she’d seen Harper genuinely interested in someone since her healing started. “I guess popping a bullet in your trauma really do open space for some romance.”

“Cute is for puppies, love. I keep tellin’ you that,” Von replied, voice rich with amusement.

Harper smirked. “Blah blah. Just get some eyes on her dorm window. Let us women do what women do.”

She didn’t wait for an answer. With her back straight and her head high, she led Dorian toward the dorm building like they owned it.

“What the fuck are y’all doing?” Hassan’s voice boomed in their ears, low and dangerous. Cold. Sharp. Dorian literally shivered at the vibration in her ear.

“Damn. It just got cold,” she muttered, her skin prickling. Harper laughed under her breath.

“No wonder Sevyn be stuck. That nigga’s voice got side effects.”

“Hassan, relax,” Harper said, cool and steady. “We got this.”

A pause. Then his voice came back, still ice. “Aye. You niggas better keep four eyes on them at all times. Don’t let nothin’ touch them.”

Harper cut her eyes toward the dorm. “Let the games begin.”

Harper and Dorian stepped into the dorm building, riding the elevator in silence to the fourth floor—the level Von confirmed as Celine’s. When the doors slid open, they were greeted by two tall men in black suits standing rigid outside the door like statues. Not even blinking. Just staring straight ahead like the wall was telling them secrets.

“She the president’s daughter or some shit?” Dorian muttered under her breath, making Harper chuckle despite the nerves.

They walked side by side, confidence in every step until they stood directly in front of the guards.

“Hey, can you let us in?” Harper asked casually, her tone light. The bigger one shifted slightly, eyes narrowing as he scanned her.

“And you are?”

“Celine’s friend. Hazel. We have dance class together.” Harper kept her face smooth, unbothered, like she'd done this a hundred times. Her voice didn’t waver, not even a little.

The guard squinted, clearly trying to read her, but Harper didn’t flinch. Just smiled.

“And you?” the second one asked, turning to Dorian with the same scrutiny.

“I’m her cousin,” Dorian said coolly, tilting her chin toward Harper. “Just here to do her nails, get paid, and dip. That’s it.”

The guards exchanged a skeptical glance but eventually stepped aside. One of them knocked on the door three times. A few seconds later, it cracked open—and Celine appeared, already irritated.

“What do you overbearing pieces of shit want now?” she snapped at her security, not hiding her annoyance. But her attitude shifted the second her eyes landed on the two women standing behind them.

Celine was beautiful—flawlessly so. Her skin a warm cinnamon brown, her long curly hair pinned up as she worked on her makeup. She had on a cropped University of Memphis jersey that slid off one shoulder, paired with a pleated tennis skirt and blue-and-black Nike Dunks. Her lip gloss shimmered in the low hallway light.

“Oh—hey?” she said, a little unsure, a little curious.

“Hey girl! You remember me, right? Hazel from dance?” Harper chirped brightly before Celine could think too long.

Celine’s brows furrowed slightly, clearly searching her memory, but Harper kept going.

“Well,” she said with a smooth smile, “I overheard you were looking for a bomb nail tech in Memphis to hook you up before the game tomorrow. This is my cousin, Dior—she’s the best. Got magic in her hands, I swear.”

Dorian waved, sweet and casual, as Harper held out her hand, flashing the fresh set Dorian had done for her just days ago to distract from the stress of Sevyn’s disappearance.

“Ouuuu, those are bomb!” Celine lit up, reaching to admire the nails.

“You know them?” one of the guards cut in again, tone flat, as if still trying to find a reason to say no.

Celinerolledhereyessoharditlookedpainful.“Didn’tyour bird-brain ass just hear her say we have the same dance class?” she snapped, then turned back to the girls with a glowing smile. “Come in! Come in.”

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