Page 198 of I See You

Hassan blinked, his throat tight as he did what he was told, wiping his face with a trembling hand.

“I fucking failed her,” Hassan muttered. “I’m the reason she in this shit.”

“Then go get her the fuck out,” the hallucination snapped. “Go fight for your woman. Kill every motherfucker in your way.”

Hassan’s eyes shifted to the soaked shirt his other self wore. “That her blood on you?”

Silence.

His jaw clenched. “Don’t make it be.”

The bloodied version didn’t blink. “You don't deserve her.” Hassan looked down, his chest heaving.

“I know.”

“But you need her, bruh. And she loves you. Leaving her after all this? That’ll kill her quicker than any of them niggas ever could.”

“She’s in this because of me!” Hassan shouted, slamming his fist on the steering wheel again. “She don’t need a nigga like me dragging her down.”

The bloodied version let out a dark chuckle, shaking his head like he was disappointed. “Nigga, you ain’t hear shit mama told you. Go save your wife. And make that shit right.”

Just like that, he vanished.

Hassan sat in the stillness, heart pounding, mind racing. Every breath reminded him of Sevyn—her warmth, her laugh, the way she looked at him like he was more than just Ice.

And now she was gone.

His phone rang, slicing through his thoughts.Jules.

“San, where the fuck you at?” Jules barked.

Hassan looked up at the penthouse one last time, then started the engine. “On the way,” he said, voice low and steady, then hung up.

He peeled out, engine roaring through the city as he sped toward Jules’ gym. He couldn’t afford to think anymore. He couldn’t afford to break. Sevyn needed him. And this time, he wasn’t stopping until she was back in his arms, safe, protected, and his.

No matter who had to die for that to happen.

Hassan walked into Jules’s gym, jaw tight and shoulders squared like he carried the weight of the whole city on his back. He went straight for the office, pushing the door open without a word. Roman was already inside, leaning back in the chair with a blunt between his fingers. Even though they’d just seen each other, they dapped up—no words exchanged, just a mutual understanding. Life had been hitting hard, and losing Sevyn reminded them both just how deep their bond ran.

Hassan sat down, his face a mask of stillness, but Roman and Jules could see it in his eyes. The fire, the guilt, the war brewing inside him. Seconds later, Norman walked in, and the room shifted. Roman raised a brow in surprise, and even Hassan, who didn’t flinch for shit, sat up straighter. Jules was the only one who didn’t seem fazed.

“Gentlemen,” Norman greeted with a stiff nod, his eyes bouncing between them.

“I’m not getting involved in whatever you’re planning with Braxton or DeVille,” he said firmly, tossing a thick file on the table. “But after watching that nigga spiral, I had one of my FBI friends to dig into his background. Something felt off. This confirmed it. Do what you want with it, but don’t let my name come up in shit. Period.”

Hassan gave a subtle nod and picked up the folder. Norman left without another word, and the second the door clicked shut, the room tensed.

“Braxton?” Roman asked, confused. “Thought that nigga was old news. He ain’t even a prosecutor anymore.”

“Nah,” Jules said, voice low. “That nigga got everything to do with this.”

Hassan didn’t respond. He flipped open the file, his face unreadable as he scanned each page. The deeper he read, the darker his eyes turned. Then, without a word, he passed the file to Roman. Roman’s expression shifted instantly—shock, then disgust.

“Man, what the fuck…” Roman muttered as he handed it off to Jules, who let out a cold chuckle and leaned back.

“Make sense now,” Jules said with a smirk. “We been lookin’ at the wrong angle.”

Inside the file was the truth: Braxton wasn’t just obsessed, he was connected—by blood. Grayson, the man Hassan killed, wasn’t just Carlos DeVille’s nephew by marriage—he was family. His mother was Lena DeVille’s older sister. When she died, Lena took Grayson in and raised him like her own. And Braxton? He was Grayson’s son.

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