Page 195 of I See You

“Hey, baby,” she whispered, brushing her lips over his jaw.

His eyes opened slowly, heavy with guilt and pain. Tears welled in the corners, threatening to fall. “I didn’t mean to hurt you—” he started, his voice cracking.

But Sevyn silenced him with a kiss, slow and deep, her forgiveness poured into every press of her lips. “I forgive you,” she breathed against his mouth. “I know that wasn’t you. It was your demons. And I know how hard you’ve been fighting.”

Hassan pulled her into his lap, her thighs wrapped around him as she straddled his waist, their foreheads pressed together. “I love you, Sevyn. I swear on my life, I’ll never hurt you again,” he said, his tone firm yet soft—only for her. His hands slid to her waist, gripping her like he never wanted to let go.

“I believe you,” she whispered, tears building behind her lashes as their lips met again, tongues dancing slowly in sync. But then the air shifted—her breath hitched. Her grip tightened around him. “Save me,” she whimpered, voice cracking.

“I’m coming,” Hassan growled, the softness in his tone replaced by that cold, lethal edge he only wore when someone threatened what he loved.

Seconds later, she jolted awake, gasping as a wave of freezing water crashed over her.

She shot up, breath catching in her throat, eyes wide with confusion and pain. Her body screamed in protest—limbs sore, head pounding like it was splitting in two. The brief warmth of her dream disappeared, replaced by chilling reality.

She wasn’t in Hassan’s bed. She wasn’t wrapped in his arms. She was still chained to a cold mattress in a dark room, soaking wet, heart pounding, and very much alone.

She’d been in this hellhole for a week now. A week of waking up sore, shackled to a bed like an animal, drugged into oblivion, and force-fed like a prisoner. The only thing keeping her from slipping completely was Hassan. The memory of his touch, the softness in his voice,thewayhiseyessawher—trulysawher—wastheonlylight in this darkness. Dreaming about him, holding on to the echo of his presence, was the only thing keeping her sane.

But every day, Sevyn’s confusion deepened. Why her?

She wasn’t a threat. She wasn’t in the streets, didn’t live a dangerous life, and damn sure wasn’t the type to hurt a soul. Yet here she was, chained and bruised, dragged into someone’s revenge like a pawn on a board she never agreed to play on.

She wanted to believe Hassan had nothing to do with this, but it was hard not to see the timeline. The day Braxton showed up with those disturbing photos—pictures of her and Hassan, his parents, and that grotesque murder scene—was the same day she was run off the road. The same day she disappeared.

Whoever was behind this wasn’t some random psycho. From what little she could see from the cracks in the door and the faint detailsin the hallway, she was in a damn mansion. Expensive floors. Heavy doors. Power lived here. Money lived here. And that meant danger.

Her train of thought broke as the door creaked open again. In walked the woman—tall, masked, and already talking shit.

“Finally awake,” the woman said with a sarcastic lilt. “You moan and snore too damn much in your sleep. I don’t see what he sees in you.”

Sevyn glared at her. “Try sleeping while chained to a bed, drugged out your mind, and see how graceful you sound.”

The woman didn’t respond, but her silence crackled with hate. Sevyn rotated her wrists against the cuffs, biting back the wince as pain shot through her joints. Still, her tone stayed sharp, unforgiving. “Who’s behind this? Because I know your birdbrain ass ain’t the mastermind.”

The woman stilled, her hand twitching like she was seconds from slapping Sevyn again. Sevyn braced herself—but a deep voice sliced through the room like a blade.

“Hit her, and I’ll kill you.” The woman froze.

Sevyn’s eyes whipped toward the door, heart thundering in her chest. She couldn’t see through the shadows, but the energy shifted. Whoever just walked in—his presence suffocated the air, thick with power and cruelty. Her skin crawled. And for the first time since she’d been taken, Sevyn felt real fear. Not from the chains. Not from the woman with the mask.

But from the man in the dark… whose voice made her blood run cold.

The man stepped into the light, and for a moment Sevyn thought the drugs were playing with her head. Her body stiffened. Her breath caught. But no—there was no mistaking that smirk. That voice. That sick, twisted grin.

“Braxton?” she rasped, her throat dry, heart jackhammering in her chest.

“Hey, my baby,” he said with a grin that could slice skin. He didn’t wear a mask like the others. He wanted her to know it was him. That he was the devil behind all of this.

“Giveusprivacy,”hesaidwithoutevenlookingatthemasked woman. She picked up the tray and syringe but hesitated at the door. “Leave it,” he said calmly, but the threat in his voice was clear. “I want the honors of feeding my wife.” Sevyn’s stomach twisted.

“Where the fuck am I?” she snapped, locking eyes with him. Despite the haze clouding her head, she refused to shrink beneath him.

“Paradise. Or we will be, soon. Just give me a few days,” he said, easing closer like he hadn’t just had her chained to a bed. She tried to shift away, but the cold metal around her wrists didn’t budge.

“Don’t be scared of me. I’m not the monster. I’m not that nigga you’ve been running around with, playing house, pretending you in love with,” he sneered.

“It’s not pretending,” she snapped. “I am in love. And he loves me.”

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