Page 210 of I See You

“I told you what I want.” His voice was graveled steel. “But this doesn’t have to end with both of y’all in a fucking body bag.”

He leaned forward now, slow, eyes dark and hollow like a graveyard.

“I need my wife. Unharmed. Breathing. And in my arms. You get your granddaughter back the second she’s safe. No games. No double backs. You fuck around, and I make sure the next generation of DeVilles don’t see daylight.”

Carlos stared at him, quiet. Measured. And after a long, heavy beat, he nodded.

Just enough.

Hassansatbackinhischair,thesilencewrappingaroundthe room like smoke. This was war—but he was finally holding the board. “But I’m not just here for revenge,” Hassan said, his voice low,steady.“I’mheretoclosethebook.Myfatherowedyou.I’llpayit— with interest.”

Carlos studied him, his expression unreadable. He didn’t respond right away, and Hassan didn’t rush him. This wasn’t just about leverage anymore—it was about legacy, and Hassan was done letting his father’s sins stain his future. He didn’t know if he’d still be worthy of Sevyn once this was over, but if he chose love, he needed to make sure his past wouldn’t haunt her. Not again. Not ever.

Losing Sevyn broke him in a way nothing else ever had. Not even watching his parents die had hollowed him out like this. Maybe it was because he was too young back then to fully feel it. Maybe itwasbecauseSevynwasdifferent.Maybeitwasbecauseshemade him feel something other than rage. She was his calm. His fire. His saving grace. Even now—lost, out there somewhere—she still saved him. She came to him in dreams during the brief moments he passed out from exhaustion, held him in the shadows of his mind, whispered to his soul like she knew how close he was to breaking. Her absence wrapped around him like a noose. Her memory kept him breathing.

He looked at Carlos, unblinking. “You’re willing to clear a dead man’s debt?” the older man asked, skeptical.

Hassan leaned forward. “You love your wife?”

Carlos scoffed, almost insulted. “Hell yeah. I’d take any bullet for her.”

Hassan’s jaw flexed. “Then you get it. The woman your great- nephew has chained up like she ain’t got people—she’s mine. My woman. I’d lay my life down for her, no hesitation. Kill anybody who touches her. Hell, I almost killed myself over her.”

The room went still. Roman looked up. Jules blinked. Von froze.

Hassan didn’t look at anyone. He kept his eyes on Carlos, voice steady but thick with everything he’d been burying.

“I hate guns. Haven’t touched one since I watched my mama bleed out. But after I hurt Sevyn, I put one to my head and pulled the trigger. That bitch jammed. I know it was my mama saving me… again.” He swallowed hard. “But that woman—my woman—she pulled me back before the trigger ever did. And now… I’m not just trying to bringher home. I’m trying to build a world where she’ll never be in danger again. A world where I can hold her and know she’s safe.”

He leaned back, exhaled slow. “So yeah, I’ll clear my father’s debt. I’ll pay whatever price I have to. Just know—if you get in the way of me bringing her home, you gon’ be in the ground with every other nigga who thought I wouldn’t go that far.”

No one said a word.

Roman, Von, and Jules sat stunned. They’d never seen this version of Hassan before. A man cracked wide open. A man who bled love the way he used to bleed violence. And yet—Carlos didn’t look surprised. Because that kind of love? The kind that pulled a man back from death?Carlosknewthatlove.Thatwasthesameloveheheldforhis wife.

And now… he understood exactly who, and what, he was dealing with.

“What you got in mind?” Carlos asked, voice low, intrigued now. “I’llburythepasttobuildthefuture,”Hassanrepliedcoolly, pulling another folder from the desk. “What I’m offering is bigger. We take that cleared debt... that trust... and flip it into legacy. Real business. Global. Casinos, offshore accounts, ports, product. Your reach. My infrastructure.”

Carlos watched as Hassan slid the file across the table.

Inside was the blueprint of an empire—a billion-dollar operation penned by Hassan himself. Vittorio and the Marino family had already agreed to expand the partnership, offering Hassan more international land than ever before. Now, Hassan was laying it onthe table: a three-way syndicate. Carlos would get underground port access for his product. Vittorio would supply top-tier goods and global distribution. And Hassan? He’d launder and multiply it all through his casinos—his empire. With Carlos’ tech folded in—his software, his data systems—they’d dominate online gambling, bitcoin, stock manipulation, even digital laundering.

It was ruthless. It was genius. And it would be unstoppable.

Carlos flipped through the file slowly, brow furrowing in grudging respect. “A billion-dollar partnership… built on blood.”

Hassan leaned back, the faintest smirk curling at the edge of his mouth. “All the good ones are.”

A beat passed. Silence thickened. Then Carlos closed the folder, his movements measured, thoughtful.

“Give me the name of the safehouse you’re holding Celine in,” he said, looking up. That was his answer. His agreement. His buy-in.

But Hassan just smiled, slow and lethal.

“Not until Sevyn is in my arms. You help me take Braxton out— quiet, clean. No fuck-ups, no noise. Once she’s back safe, we move forward. Ironclad loyalty. No cracks.”

He reached for the Henny, pouring two glasses like he already owned the outcome. Carlos watched him, then picked up his glass.

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