Page 99 of I See You

And yet, she could feel the ghost of that six-year-old boy in the room with them, standing in the corner, watching.

Sevyn clenched her fingers into her lap, willing herself to stay composed as Hassan’s voice wrapped around the room like a vice.

“Hebeggedforhislife.Didn’tevenaskhimtosparemymother. Just himself.”

Her throat tightened. The weight of his words pressed into her chest like a cinder block, suffocating, heavy, inescapable. But she didn’t dare move.

Then he raised his hand at her, his fingers forming the shape ofa gun. Most people would’ve flinched. Most people would’ve gasped, maybe even recoiled in fear. But Sevyn? She didn’t move a muscle.

His smirk was deadly, something cold and detached. But Sevyn didn’t see a killer in front of her. She saw a man who had gone somewhere else, someone lost in the past, drowning in the memory of blood and betrayal.

"The nigga laughed. Then pow." His fingers mimicked the recoil of a gun, his voice eerily casual, like he was narrating a scene from a movie rather than his own tragedy. "He shot her first.”

A long silence. Heavy. Suffocating.

“Then he shot him. Right in front of me. Two bullets each. One in the chest. One in the head. Clean. Precise.”

That smirk curled his lips again—twisted, detached, as if he was unbothered. As if it didn’t matter. But Sevyn knew better.

“That’s the thing about men like that,” he mused, his tone almost amused. “They don’t rush. They take their time.”

Sevyn felt her heart pound, but Hassan? He just sat there, like he had already suffocated a long time ago. Like he had never really been breathing since that night.

The silence stretched, wrapping around them, filling every inch of the room. The only sound was the slow, quiet crackling of the blunt as Hassan took another pull.

Sevyn finally found her voice, soft but steady. “And you?”

Hassan exhaled, the smoke swirling between them, his expression unreadable. “He left me. Looked me dead in my face and walked out like I wasn’t even there.”

Sevyn’s breath caught in her throat. Because for the first time, she understood. Why he didn’t flinch. Why he didn’t react. Why emotions never seemed to touch him. Because they had already taken everything from him that night.

At six years old.

And now? He lived in the ruins.

“That’s why I don’t gamble. Not a single dollar. Not a single bet. The game that took everything from me? I own that shit now. ButI’ll never play it.” Hassan’s voice was low, calm—too calm. His eyes met Sevyn’s, and for the first time, he was actually looking at her, not through her.

Sevyn studied him, her heart beating too fast, too heavy in her chest. She wanted to say something, wanted to give him comfort. But what comfort existed for a six-year-old boy who learned, in a single night, that the world wasn’t meant to protect him? There wasn’t one. So she did the only thing she knew he would accept.

She stayed silent. And in that silence, he didn’t have to be strong. Not for her. Not for anyone. Just for himself. And for once, that was enough.

"I killed that nigga the first chance I got," Hassan admitted, his voice laced with something darker, something final. "Looked death in the face at six, held its power at ten, and never let it go."

Sevyn didn’t flinch. Didn’t react. She just sat there, taking in his truth. She understood him in a way most never could—even as the cold-blooded killer the world saw him as.

They sat in heavy silence before she finally spoke. "Breathe."

She saw it—how he hadn’t taken a breath in too long, his body tense like he was bracing for impact. Her voice was soft, but firm, and somehow, it broke through. His chest expanded as he exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

"I'm a monster, Sevyn. And it started with that nigga." His voice was quieter now, but still sharp.

Sevyn stood, closing the space between them, but careful not to invade what little distance he still needed.

"You're not a monster," she said gently. "You’re just someone who’s never been protected."

His breath hitched. Protection? He was Hassan fucking Ice Gaines. He didn’t need protection. Not from anyone. So why did her words feel like they cracked something inside him?

Hisjawtensed,hisbodyrigid,buthedidn’trespond.Hedidn’t haveto. She could see the way his mind was processing, the way he tried to reject her words even though they hit deeper than he wanted to admit.

---